"Dave Wolverton - Siren Song at Midnight" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wolverton Dave)

thought about it. You want proof that Don Stef├бn is innocent, but you wonтАЩt find the proof in scraps of
paper.тАЭ

I looked at old Senor Hidalgo, and my eyes became wet, and I blurted, тАЬAre you saying he is guilty?
You believe these lies?тАЭ
But Senor Hidalgo shook his head. тАЬYou donтАЩt need papers. The truth of his innocence is in your heart.тАЭ
He sat next to me, smelling of sweat and beans. He placed his leathery hand on my shoulder. тАЬYou
know, your father has been sick for many years, suffering from depression.тАЭ I nodded, for IтАЩd known
this. тАЬWhen he was young, he was worse. For days at a time he would laugh and his eyes would glow,
and he would come to work practically walking on the ceiling! Oh, he was so happy, he did not need
wings to fly.

тАЬBut then, the smile would fade and heтАЩd come to work and you would see him drag, as if wrapped in
chains, and heтАЩd sit for days and do nothing. We were all afraid for him, thinking he might kill himself, so
one day I asked, тАШDon Stef├бn, why put yourself through this? You could cure this malady with a pill!
Then, why do you suffer?тАЩ and do you know what he said?тАЭ

тАЬNo,тАЭ I answered.

тАЬYour father told me that the time he spent flying through the air more than rewarded him for the time he
spent in the abyss. He said, тАШMavro, I know you worry for me, and I know I could take the cure. But I
love my illness. You peopleтАФhow can you appreciate life as I do? How can you live even one moment
with passion? It is all so grand, so beautiful. Even when I am lost in the blackest well of midnight,life
tastes so sweet to me! Life is so sweet!тАЩ тАЭ

Senor Hidalgo patted my shoulder, told me to go home, then began to straighten the office. I knew he
was right. I didnтАЩt need more proof of my fatherтАЩs innocence than the life heтАЩd led. My father could not
have given explosives to the Sirens. IтАЩd seen his innocence in the tender way he fed his fish by hand at the
aquariums, in the way he kissed the pain away from my childhood injuries, in the way he relished to draw
a breath. Life, all life, was too precious to be wasted.

That night, I drove to Concepci├│n, to the sea house, and arrived at dawn. The police had scavenged the
house until it was in ruins. I cleaned the mess, walked the beaches in the mornings. I kept the mem-set
hidden in my room, and twice the police came to question me, always asking names of my fatherтАЩs
friends, of those IтАЩd seen him with. I answered by declaring his innocence.

The details of my fatherтАЩs trial were never publicized. I learned through the news that my father was
convicted of treason and accused of stealing a vast fortune through graft. He was found guilty of
complicity in the murder of two million Brazilians and was sentenced to die. I find it ironic that they
convicted him in a secret trial, yet respected his right to privacy so much that they refused to pry his
memories from him. Perhaps for them it was just a waiting game, and they believed they would get his
accomplices in time.

After that, I learned that a news special would be broadcast by a famous reporter, a gringo cyborg
named Todd Bennett who promised to have an тАЬInterview with a Madman.тАЭ The interview was
advertised for days, and I could not sleep because I wanted so badly to see my father, to hear his voice.
I watched the holo at home, enlarging the image so it filled the entire living room.

When the interview started, they showed Se├▒or Bennett wearing a smooth white tungsten half-face with
six glittering eyes that recorded all he saw in different spectra. The bottom half of his face was still human.