"Dick - We Can Remember it For You Wholesale" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dick Phillip K)

"I'm in trouble." His voice came out husky and coarse.
And shaking. "Probably I'm heading into a psychotic episode;
I hope not, butmaybe that's it. It would explain everything,
anyhow."
Setting down the bag of groceries, Kirsten stalked to the
closet. "I was not kidding," she said to him quietly. She
brought out a coat, got it on, walked back to the door of the
conapt. "I'll phone you one of these days soon," she said
tonelessly. "This is goodbye, Doug. I hope you pull out of this
eventually; I really pray you do. For your sake."
"Wait," he said desperately. "Just tell me and make it
absolute; I did go or I didn'ttell me which one." But they
may have altered your memory-track also, he realized.
The door closed. His wife had left. Finally!
A voice behind him said, "Well, that's that. Now put up
your hands, Quail. And also please turn around and face this
way."
He turned, instinctively, without raising his hands.
The man who faced him wore the plum uniform of the
Interplan Police Agency, and his gun appeared to be UN
issue. And, for some odd reason, he seemed familiar to Quail;
familiar in a blurred, distorted fashion which he could not pin
down. So, jerkily, he raised his hands.
"You remember," the policeman said, "your trip to Mars.
We know all your actions today and all your thoughtsin
particular your very important thoughts on the trip home
from Rekal, Incorporated." He explained, "We have a telep-
transmitter wired within your skull; it keeps us constantly
informed."
A telepathic transmitter; use of a living plasma that had
been discovered on Luna. He shuddered with self-aversion.
The thing lived inside him, within his own brain, feeding,
listening, feeding. But the Interplan police used them; that
had come out even in the homeopapes. So this was probably
true, dismal as it was.
"Why me?" Quail said huskily. What had he doneor
thought? And what did this have to do with Rekal, Incorpo-
rated?
"Fundamentally," the Interplan cop said, "this has nothing
to do with Rekal; it's between you and us." He tapped his
right ear. "I'm still picking up your mentational processes by
way of your cephalic transmitter." In the man's ear Quail saw
a small white-plastic plug. "So I have to warn you: anything
you think may be held against you." He smiled. "Not that it
matters now; you've already thought and spoken yourself into
oblivion. What's annoying is the fact that under narkidrine at
Rekal, Incorporated you told them, their technicians and the
owner, Mr. McClane, about your trip; where you went, for
whom, some of what you did. They're very frightened. They
wish they had never laid eyes on you." He added reflectively,