"Vernor Vinge - Rainbows End" - читать интересную книгу автора (Vinge Vernor)

For Lieutenant Colonel Robert Gu, Jr., this should be a joyous time. His father, one of America's most
beloved poets, was returning from an extended campout in the valley of the shadow of death. Bob took a
long look at Robert's still, relaxed features. No, if this were cinema, it would be a Western and the title
would be The Return of the SOB.

03
A Minefield Made in Heaven

"My eyeballs are... fizzing!"

"This shouldn't be painful. Do they actually hurt?"

"... No." But the light was so bright that Robert saw fiery color even in the shadows. "It's all still a blur,
but I haven't seen this well in..." he didn't know how long; time itself had been a darkness "... in years."

A woman spoke from right behind his shoulder. "You've been on the retinal meds for about a week,
Robert. Today we felt we had a working population of cells present, so we decided to turn them on."

Another woman's voice: "And we can cure your blurred vision even more easily. Reed?"

"Yes, Doctor." This voice came from the man-shaped blur directly in front of him. The figure leaned near.
"Let me put this over your eyes, Robert. There'll be a little numbness." Big gentle hands slipped glasses
across Robert's face. At least this was familiar; he was getting new lenses fitted. But then his face went
numb and he couldn't close his eyes.

"Just relax and look to the front." Relaxing was one thing, but there was no choice about looking to the
front. And then... God, it was like watching a picture come up on a really slow computer, the blurs
sharpening into finer and finer detail. Robert would have jerked back, but the numbness had spread to his
neck and shoulders.

"The cell map in the right retina looks good. Let's do the left." A few more seconds passed, and there
was a second miracle.

The man sitting in front of him eased the "glasses" off Robert's head. There was a smile on his
middle-aged face. He wore a white cotton shirt. The pocket was embroidered with blue stitching:
"Physician's Assistant Reed Weber." I can see every thread of it! He looked over the man's shoulder.
The walls of the clinic were slightly out of focus. Maybe he'd have to wear glasses out-of-doors. The
thought set him laughing. And then he recognized the pictures on the walls. This was not a clinic. Those
wall hangings were the calligraphy that Lena had bought for their house in Palo Alto. Where am I?

There was a fireplace; there were sliding glass doors that opened onto a lawn. Not a book in sight; this
was no place he had ever lived. The numbness in his shoulders was almost gone. Robert looked around
the room. The two female voices тАФ they weren't attached to anything visible. But Reed Weber wasn't
the only person in sight. A heavyset fellow stood on his left, arms akimbo, a broad smile on his face.
Robert's look caught his, and the smile faltered. The man gave him a nod and said, "Dad."

"... Bob." It wasn't so much that memory suddenly returned as that he noticed a fact that had been there
all along. Bobby had grown up.

"I'll talk to you later, Dad. For now I'll let you wrap things up with Dr. Aquino and her people." He