"Joan D. Vinge - Fireship" - читать интересную книгу автора (Vinge Joan D)

in money. Or in chips from the Hotel XanaduтАЩs casino, which was
pretty much the same thing. And I couldnтАЩt remember anything
about last night. TheyтАЩd done it to me again, Ring and that
computerтАФgotten me so stinking drunk I was putty in their hands:
Michael Yarrow, the all-day sucker. тАЬWhy do I put up with this?тАЭ I
pressed my hands against my head, having answered my own
stupid question. Because you need them . Besides, I couldnтАЩt blame
Ring; if I was blind drunk last night, so was heтАж except he was
supposed to be in charge, and heтАЩd let ETHANAC take over. тАЬYou
promised, you promised you wouldnтАЩt do this tтАЩ me again! What if
somebody noticedтАФтАЭ
But they werenтАЩt even listening; I wasnтАЩt plugged in. If I was
gonna yell at myself, I might as well have an audience. Not that
theyтАЩd listen; I was just the body around hereтАж Oh, knock off the
self-pity: plug in and youтАЩll feel better .
I fumbled around in the chips until I found the cord that was
attached to ETHANACтАЩs bread-loaf-sized case on the floor beside
the bed. I pulled the cord up and stuck it into the socket low on my
spine, felt the electric flow of the change start and spread, turning
all my nerve endings into starsтАж
I stretched and shook my head until the static cleared, finishing
YarrowтАЩs almost obscene sigh of pleasure for him. The mental ratтАЩs
nest of his hangover mercifully cleared out with the static, for
which I was supremely grateful; even though there wasnтАЩt much we
could do for his body: his bloodshot baby blues stared back at me
forlornly from the phone mirror, half obscured by rumpled brown
hair, in a face the color of oatmeal. I donтАЩt like oatmeal. I looked
away, grimacing, feeling YarrowтАЩs indignation at his betrayal push
up through my control again; I hate those mornings when I canтАЩt
seem to wake upтАФ Damn it, is that any way to treat the body thatтАЩs
gotta carry you around? тАж be a sport, michaelтАФeven ETHANAC
was butting in, flushed with his triumph at the gaming tablesтАФlet
yourself enjoy life once in a whileтАж Enjoy life? GettinтАЩ your own
mind totally wiped, and then takinтАЩ advantage of it, ainтАЩt my idea of
a good timeтАж all right, i know it took ten or twelve drinks to break
down your inhibitions. but wasnтАЩt it worth itтАФ?
I looked down again at the pile of chips around my feet, and felt a
gloating recapitulation of last nightтАЩs gambling spree overload my
consciousness. I frowned, disgusted, and let Yarrow go on
complaining for both of us. TryinтАЩ to break the bank, on neutral
ground! Where anybody couldтАЩve seen it, anтАЩ be half a million U.S.
bucks richer for turning me in, by now! My God. I mean, just who
the hell is waiting for us downstairs right now? тАж donтАЩt cause
yourself unnecessary distress, if hew knew you were here, they
would simply kick in the door and drag you awayтАж
тАж Why am I arguing with myself ? I reasserted and reintegrated,
getting rid of the aggravating schizo conversations. Leaning
forward, I drew the drapes and let in some daylight. Clouding over,
just as predicted: This was the day of the Rain. I squinted out at the
brick-red Martian sky, patterning with oppressive mud-colored