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

тАЬSometimes it feels like the Center is becoming my whole life, consuming
me,тАЭ Jule was saying. тАЬI need to break away for a while and let my mind uncoil. I
wondered if maybe you felt that way too.тАЭ She wondered: Jule, who was an empath,
who knew how everyone felt; who knew, who didnтАЩt just guess. Everyone but me.

It wasnтАЩt just the Center that was consuming me, even though I spent all my
time here watching over it. It was the rotting emptiness of my mind. тАЬI donтАЩt have
anything to uncoil.тАЭ

She looked at me as though sheтАЩd expected to hear that. But she only said,
тАЬYou have a body. You ought to let that out of here once in a while.тАЭ

тАЬAnd do what?тАЭ I tried to make it sound interested.

тАЬGo out into Oldcity, see the parts IтАЩve never seen . . . parts you know.тАЭ

My skin prickled. тАЬYou donтАЩt want to do that.тАЭ

тАЬProve it.тАЭ

тАЬDamn it, Jule, it ainтАЩtтАФisnтАЩt anything you want to see. Or anything I want to
see again.тАЭ

She nodded, folding her arms, drawing herself in. тАЬAll right. Then can you
take me somewhere I do want to see? Give me a fresh perspective for a few hours,
Cat.тАЭ

I dropped the print IтАЩd been reading onto the windowsill. тАЬSure. Why not?тАЭ

She picked it up as I moved away, looked at the title. тАЬCORPORATE
STRUCTURE AND THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE FEDERATION
TRANSPORT AUTHORITY.тАЭ She looked back at me, half smiling.

тАЬNot bad for a former illiterateтАЩ?тАЭ I said. She blushed. She was the one whoтАЩd
taught me to read and write. I picked up my jacket from a corner of the floor. Only a
year ago. A lifetime. Forever. тАЬYou know something?тАЭ

She raised her eyebrows.
 тАЬStupidity is easier.тАЭ

She laughed. We went down the creaking stairs, through the silent rooms of
the Center for Psionic Research, and out into the street.

The streets of Oldcity were bright and dark: the bars and gambling places and
whorehouses were lit up like lanterns; the heavy glass pavements were inlaid with
lights that fol-lowed you wherever you walked, down the narrow alleyways between
the walls of buildings almost as old as time. None of the light was real light, it was all
artificial. Only the darkness was real.