"Timothy Zahn - Manta's Gift" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zahn Timothy)

"Your so-called opportunity," Raimey shot back. "I read the newsnets. You want me for thatтАФwhat's
it calledтАФthat alpha-link stuff you're playing with. Forget it. I'm not going to spend the rest of my
life wired up in a lab somewhere seeing if you can run a space barge off my brain."

"Ah," Faraday said, nodding. "You have other plans, then?"

The flash of anger vanished like dust scattered on a pond. "Go away," he muttered. "Just get lost.
Okay?"

"I had a word with your doctors," Faraday said, as casually as if he were discussing the weather. He
showed no signs of getting lost. "They seem reasonably optimistic about your chances."

"Oh, really?" Raimey bit out. "Which doctors were you talking to? Mine say I'm a cripple." It was
the first time since the accident he'd spoken the word aloud. The sound of it was terrifying. "I'm
paralyzed from the neck down. They can't repair it, they can't transplant into it, and there's too much
damage for forced regrowth."

"There are always neural prosthetics," Faraday pointed out. "They're pretty good these days."

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Manta's Gift


Raimey turned his head away. Neural prosthetics. Lumpy protuberances sticking out of his neck that
would let him lurch around like Frankenstein's monster and manage to grip a spoon after a few
months of practice. Even then, there was no guarantee he'd be able to hit his mouth with it.

And just enough of a sense of touch to let him know if he was walking on broken glass or sticking
his hand in boiling water. Like being wrapped all over in a centimeter of velvet.

All over. Those special nights he'd had with Brianna, and Tiffany before her, and Jane before her,
had been the last of that sort he would ever have.

Ever.

"Actually, I didn't come here to offer you test-dummy work," Faraday said. "I came to see if you'd
like a chance for a life again."

"Really," Raimey growled. "And what'll this miracle cost? My immortal soul?"

"No," Faraday said. "Just your very mortal body."

Raimey turned his head back around, prepared to say something truly withering.

But Faraday wasn't smiling, or grinning, or leering. The man was deadly serious.

Or else he was just plain flat-out insane. "What are you talking about?" Raimey demanded
cautiously.