"Kate Wilhelm - April Fools' Day Forever" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wilhelm Kate)

news department; Dennis Kolchak, political-news expert; David
Wedekind, the art director. Hilary Boyle paced as they discussed the
hour special on the extraordinary weather conditions that had racked
the entire earth during the winter. Boyle was a large man, over six
feet, with a massive frame that let him carry almost three hundred
pounds without appearing fat. He was a chain smoker, and prone to
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nervous collapses. He timed the collapses admirably: he never
missed a show. His daily half hour, "Personalized News," was the
most popular network show that year, as it had been for the past
three years. The balloon would burst eventually, and the name
Hilary Boyle wouldn't sound like God, but now it did, and no one
could explain the X factor that had catapulted the talentless man into
the firmament of stars.
The continuity writers had blocked in the six segments of the show
already, two from other pointsтАФWashington and Los AngelesтАФ
plus the commercial time, plus the copter pictures that would be
live, if possible.
"Looking good," Hilary Boyle said. "Half an hour Eddie will have
the first film ready. . . ."
Martie wasn't listening. He watched Boyle and wondered if Boyle
would stumble over any of the words Martie had used in his
segment. He hoped not. Boyle always blamed him personally if he,
Boyle, didn't know the words he had to parrot. "Look, Martie, I'm a
reasonably intelligent man, and if I don't know it, you gotta figure
that most of the viewers won't know it either. Get me? Keep it
simple, but without sacrificing any of the facts. That's your job, kid.
Now give me this in language I can understand." Martie's gaze
wandered to the window wall. The room was on the sixty-third
floor; there were few other lights to be seen on this level, and only
those that were very close. The storm had visibility down to two
hundred yards. What lights he could see appeared ghostly, haloed,
diffused, toned down to beautiful pearly luminescences. He thought
of Boyle trying to say that, and then had to bite his cheek to keep

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from grinning. Boyle couldn't stand it when someone grinned in his
presence, unless he had made a funny.
Martie's part of the special was ready for taping by eight, and he
went to the coffee shop on the fourteenth floor for a sandwich. He
wished he could get through to Julia, but telephone service from
Ohio to Washington to Maine was a disaster area that night. He
closed his eyes and saw her, huddled before the fire in the living