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

I shrugged. тАЬI dunno. I ... that is, itтАЩs what weтАЩre here for. It makes me feel
like I have a purpose. A reason. It makes me feel aliveтАФтАЩтАЩ

тАЬKnowing someone exists who can prove that you are.тАЭ

тАЬYeah.тАЭ I looked down again.

тАЬThereтАЩs nothing wrong with that. YouтАЩre only letting her help you.тАЭ He
glanced at the sculpture; it reversed direction. тАЬBut whatтАЩs going to happen if you
canтАЩt help her? If she wonтАЩt be helped? Can you let it go, or is this thing an
obsession?тАЭ I finally began to let myself believe that he only meant what he said.

тАЬI can handle it.тАЭ I let my hands hang loose at my sides. тАЬIf I have to forget
her, I will.тАЭ But I wonтАЩt have to. My fingers twitched.

Siebeling smiled at Jule. She matched the smile without really meaning it,
because she knew he wanted her to. I wondered if we were all thinking about his first
wife then, and what had happened to her. тАЬThen I donтАЩt see any reason not to
continue; at least until youтАЩve reached a decision. As you say, itтАЩs what weтАЩre here
for.тАЭ Several kinds of longing were in his voice.

тАЬThanks.тАЭ I opened the door and went out, not wanting any of us to have
more time to think.

****

But that night the Corpses came back; three deadheads in matching gray, looking
more like businessmen than police. The Transport Authority had taken what had
once been sepa-rate corporate police forces and made them its own here in Quarro.
The Corpse who asked most of the questions was a Transport Special Investigator
named Polhemas; his coming in person meant that the matter under investigation was
making a lot of people upside sweat. . . . And it meant that even though Dr. Ardan
Siebeling was a teek who didnтАЩt try to cover it up he was still Dr. Siebeling, who had
a few friends Up There.

But the Corpses were looking for someone who could pick the brains of
important officials and researchers and sell what they found to the most interested
party. Not just the usual combine political backstabbing, but something with
under-world roots. They were looking for psions; and here we were in the middle of
Oldcity, right where theyтАЩd expect us to be.

We spent hours arguing the truth and our right to exist; the way weтАЩd had to
do so many times since weтАЩd begun the Center, and probably would have to do
forever. They didnтАЩt leave until the time of the DreamweaverтАЩs show was long past. I
went up to my room and stayed there staring into the darkness, like a burnout aching
for a fix.

And the next night it happened again. Just as we were closing Polhemas
showed up, his hired help pushing the door back into my face. This time theyтАЩd