"Gordon R. Dickson - The Last Master" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dickson Gordon R)

“Jerry?” it said. “I’m Dr. Morgan Carwell. Were you expecting someone named Jerry?”

“No,” said Ett. “Pleased to meet you. Dr. Carwell.”

The eyes above the green mask stared down at him.

“You’ve already met me, Etter,” the physician said. “It was brief enough, that’s true. But we met just an
hour ago, before your final examination. Remember?”

“Yes,” said Ett. “I met a Dr. Carwell. Did you meet someone named Mr. Ho?”

Their gazes held each other.

“Sorry, Mr. Ho. They tell us it’s a good practice to use a patient’s first name. I apologize. Now, please
relax. We want you as calm as possible.”

“I’m relaxed,” said Ett.

“Fine.” Carwell turned away. “Now you shouldn’t expect to notice physical sensations as a result of
being given the medication. Lots of people tell us they feel various kinds of reactions, but the best we can
come up with is that these are just the result of their expecting to feel something—something like the
placebo effect, in fact. Still, if you think you sense anything at all out of the ordinary, I want you to tell me
right away—”

Still talking, he had turned his back to Ett, moving so that, even with the mirror above, his bulk hid his
hands from the patient’s view. Ett felt the light pressure of something pressed momentarily against his
neck, at the nape, and then the table tilted him up and forward, closer to a vertical posture. Immediately
the doctor was behind him and a heavier pressure came to his neck, which was exposed in its harness at
the back. Almost as quickly it was ended, and the doctor stepped back; the table put Ett back into a
horizontal position. Carwell’s voice had continued, quietly and steadily. That was it, then. The RIV was
already in him.

“—because, as they’ve probably told you several times over, that’s the whole purpose of administering
RIV under the controls we do. There’s a countermedication available as a blocking agent, but if it’s
needed, it has to be used as quickly as possible, to do the most good. And since there’s so little
physiological effect with RIV, anything you can notice with your own perceptions might be highly useful.”

“Doctor—” began Ett, then fell silent again.

“Very good, that’s right,” said Carwell after a moment. He had checked his own talking immediately
when Ett had opened his mouth. “We don’t want you to speak unless it’s necessary to tell us something
important. The reason for that is also, of course, to keep you from distracting the physician, who’s trying
to observe you, to look for any signs you might show outwardly, of a bad reaction. That’s also why you
have to lie there without your clothes for some minutes yet, while I watch you. Any physical change at all,
even movements, can be important…”

Carwell’s deep voice went rumbling on in a monotone that was obviously intended to be soothing. Ett
had been repeatedly cautioned to relax as much as possible after getting the RIV treatment. He tried to
do just that. There was no point in pretending that he had no concern at all about what might happen to