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

room glowing with soft warm light. Her pale hair hiding her paler
face, hands over her ears, tight. She got up and went to the steps,
looking up them, then ran back to the fire. The house shaking with
music and the wind. The image was so strong that he opened his
eyes wide and shook his head too hard, starting a mild headache at
the back of his skull. He drank his coffee fast, and got a second cup,
and when he sat down again, he was almost smiling. Sometimes he
was convinced that she was right when she said that they had
something so special between them, they never were actually far
apart. Sometimes he knew she was right.
He finished his sandwich and coffee and wandered back to his
office. Everything was still firm, ready to tape in twenty minutes.
His part was holding fine.
He checked over various items that had come through in the last
several hours, and put three of them aside for elaboration. One of
them was about a renewal of the influenza epidemic that had raked
England earlier in the year. It was making a comeback, more
virulent than ever. New travel restrictions had been imposed.
Julia: "I don't care what they say, I don't believe it. Who ever heard
of quarantine in the middle of the summer? I don't know why

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travel's being restricted all over the world, but I don't believe it's
because of the flu." Accusingly, "You've got all that information at
your fingertips. Why don't you look it up and see? They banned
travel to France before the epidemic got so bad."
Martie rubbed his head, searched his desk for aspirin and didn't find
any. Slowly he reached for the phone, then dialed Sandy, his
information girl. "See what we have on tap about weather-related
illnesses, honey. You know, flu, colds, pneumonia. Stuff like that.
Hospital statistics, admittances, deaths. Closings of businesses,
schools. Whatever you can find. Okay?" To the picture on his desk,
he said, "Satisfied?"


Julia watched the Hilary Boyle show at six thirty and afterward had
scrambled eggs and a glass of milk. The weather special at ten
explained Martie's delay, but even if there hadn't been the special to
whip into being, transportation had ground to a stop. Well, nothing
new there, either. She had tried to call Martie finally, and got the
recording: Sorry, your call cannot be completed at this time. So
much for that. The baby cried and cried.
She tried to read for an hour or longer and had no idea of what she
had been reading when she finally tossed the book down and turned
to look at the fire. She added a log and poked the ashes until the
flames shot up high, sparking blue and green, snapping crisply. As
soon as she stopped forcing her mind to remain blank, the thoughts