"Stephen Goldin - The Last Ghost & Other Stories" - читать интересную книгу автора (Goldin Stephen)

"I don't know, Melissa. I was hoping that you could help me end the story."
"How? I don't know anything about computers."
"Yes you do, Melissa, only you don't remember it. I can help you remember all about a lot of things. But
it will be hard, Melissa, very hard. All sorts of strange things will come into your head, and you'll find
yourself doing things you never knew you could do. Will you try it, Melissa, to help us find out the end of
the story?"
"All right, Dr. Ed, if you want me to."
"Good girl, Melissa."
Dr. Paul was whispering to his colleague. "Switch on 'Partial Memory' and tell her to call subprogram
'Circuit Analysis.'"
"Call 'Circuit Analysis,' Melissa."
All at once, strange things happened in her mind. Long strings of numbers that looked meaningless,
andyet somehow she knew that they did mean different things, like resistance, capacitance, inductance.
And there were myriads of lines — straight, zigzag, curlicue. And formulae ...
"Read MLSA 5400, Melissa."
And suddenly, Melissa saw herself. It was the most frightening thing she'd ever experienced, more scary
even than the horrible nightmares.
"Look at Section 4C-79A."
Melissa couldn't help herself. She had to look. To the little girl, it didn't look much different from the rest
of herself. But it was different, she knew. Very much different. In fact, it didn't seem to be a natural part
of her at all, but rather like a brace used by cripples.
Dr. Ed's voice was tense. "Analyze that section and report on optimum change for maximum reduction of
data seepage."
Melissa tried her best to comply, but she couldn't. Something was missing, something she needed to
know before she could do what Dr. Ed had told her to. She wanted to cry. "I can't, Dr. Ed! I can't, I
can't!"
"I told you it wouldn't work," Dr. Paul said slowly. "We'll have to switch on the full memory for complete
analysis."
"But she's not ready," Dr. Ed protested. "It could kill her."
"Maybe, Ed. But if it does ... well, at least we'll know how to do it better next time. Melissa!"
"Yes, Dr. Paul?"
"Brace yourself, Melissa. This is going to hurt."
And, with no more warning than that, the world hit Melissa. Numbers, endless streams of numbers —
complex numbers, real numbers, integers, subscripts, exponents. And there were battles, wars more
horrible and bloody than the ones she'd dreamed, and casualty lists that were more than real to her
because she knew everything about every name — height, weight, hair color, eye color, marital status,
number of dependents ... the list went on. And there were statistics — average pay for bus drivers
inOhio, number of deaths due to cancer in the U.S. 1965 to 1971, average yield of wheat per ton of
fertilizer consumed ...
Melissa was drowning in a sea of data.
"Help me, Dr. Ed, Dr. Paul. Help me!" she tried to scream. But she couldn't make herself heard.
Somebody else was talking. Some stranger she didn't even know was using her voice and saying things
about impedance factors and semiconductors.
And Melissa was falling deeper and deeper, pushed on by the relentlessly advancing army of information.
Five minutes later, Dr. Edward Bloom opened the switch and separated the main memory from the
personality section. "Melissa," he said softly, "everything's all right now. We know how the story's going
to end. The scientists asked the computer to redesign itself, and it did. There won't be any more
nightmares, Melissa. Only sweet dreams from now on. Isn't that good news?"
Silence.
"Melissa?" His voice was high and shaky. "Can you hear me, Melissa? Are you there?"