"A. R. Yngve - Parry's Protocol" - читать интересную книгу автора (Yngve A. R)

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A.R.Yngve

PARRY'S PROTOCOL
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Prologue:


WESTMOREHAM INSTITUTE FOR TREATMENT OF THE CRIMINALLY
INSANE
WASHINGTON STATE, SOUTHEAST REGION, USA
SEPTEMBER 8

Perkins, the night-watchman, strolled into his narrow booth. He had been walking
his first round through the worn, whitewashed corridors of the institution.

"One o'clock and all's well," he mumbled almost inaudibly -- and immediately
shook his head, as if reproaching himself for saying so.

The night-watchman eased his fat, uniformed body into a swivel-chair made of
pale wood. He switched on a tiny color TV set on the desk before him; one that
had earlier been used for the surveillance cameras, before the institution replaced
them with infra-red sensors. Perkins's favorite show came on, and the comedian
on the screen was going through his end monologue:

"...and my Prozacs wouldn't understand me, and my girlfriend failed to comfort
me -- or was it the other way around?"
(Laughter from the audience)

"And it was then, when my lawyer said: 'Eddie, your overdraft facility is sending
me telepathic messages', and I asked him 'What's the shit, man?', and he said:
'Eddie, get your life in order; you should seek out some wise man and find the
meaning of your life', it was then I flew to see this guru in Nepal, who lived in a
little hut by the foot of the Himalayas.

"I entered, said hello, and asked him -- no, begged him: 'Talk to me, Master! My
life has lost its meaning. And the world seems to be falling apart around me; why
does nothing make sense anymore?!'

"And the guru stroked his long, stripy beard -- he looked like a hundred years,
could easily have been that guy in 'The Golden Child' -- and answered: 'At the top
of this mountain lies a cave. In that cave lives a holy man, who has beheld the
secret of Creation. The last time I heard from him was fifty years ago. If you
hurry, you might get to meet him before he leaves this world.'

"So I hired a couple of Sherpas who took me all the way up that high, snowy
mountain. The wind blew like hell all the way. But after walking for two days
across slippery, icy paths, we reached the holy man's cave. It was all covered with
snow; we had to dig out the opening; and I staggered inside, dead beat.