"Asimov, Isaac - Izzy and the Father of Terror" - читать интересную книгу автора (Asimov Isaac)

because I lied about my medical history,
which you would too if you had a back like
mine, and I’d appreciate it in
consideration of which, if you didn’t
wrestle me quite so vicious next time I do
you a favor."

"Sorry." I sipped my coffee slowly, just
to feel the warmth spread, like dye
staining the part of my world that was me.

"Forget it. Anyways, I happen to be able
to see inside things, like your noggin for
example, past, present, and future,
regardless of distance?sometimes. Certain
responsibilities accrue. Which is why I am
spending half of this vacation, which I
only get two weeks of at my present level
of seniority at Gibson, and my next
vacation also, when it comes up, on you.
Gawd, I guess there’s no limit to how bad
you can make a cup of goddamned coffee."
He wrinkled his nose and swallowed the
rest of it at a gulp. Then he squashed the
Styrofoam and threw it down with a shiver.

"Spending your vacations on me? What’s
going on? A guy did something to my mind .
. ."

"Shaman."

"Yes! Then you fixed me somehow. That’s
all I know."

"How can you drink that stuff so easy? You
look like you like it! You know, you can
tell a lot about various civilizations by
the kind of coffee they put up with;
that’s what I find. . . . Listen to me.
Shaman is trying to set you up to be his
pabulum, Mel boy."

"He wants to eat me?"

"Yes, Mel, he wants to eat you, farm you
and eat you. He’s tired of hunting and
gathering, let’s say. He’s been living
catch-as-catch-can for five, six thousand
years, and now he wants to cultivate,