"Lisa Goldstein - The Narcissus Plague" - читать интересную книгу автора (Goldstein Lisa) sign a release form." She waved her hand, nearly knocking over the glass
of champagne she had set down. "They all agreed that if they got the plague I could administer the drug. Our receptionist Debra was one of people who manifested symptoms." Debra nodded. "So she gave me a pill --" "You're the one who did the answering machine message!" I said, recognizing her voice. "Oh my God!" Debra said, and ran down the hallway. "You see, you don't remember what happened to you when you've been ill," Dr. Clark said. "After you recover it seems a blur to you, as if it happened to someone else." "How soon will your drug come on the market?" I asked. "Not as soon as I'd like, unfortunately. Because of the crisis the Food and Drug Administration is moving as quickly as possible, but even at their quickest they're not very fast. And a good many of them are out with the plague. Have you ever tried dealing with a bureaucrat with the plague?" I nodded sympathetically. "At the soonest we'll get FDA approval in six months, maybe a year." She took a bottle of pills off her desk. "Here they are." The pills -- red and yellow capsules -- caught the light and shone like jewels. "How long does the cure take?" "A week. The pills should be taken twice a day. But the results are immediate, within a few minutes of taking the first pill." "And are there side effects?" I cleared my throat. "My -- uh, my boyfriend Mark --" Dr. Clark shook her head. "I'm sorry -- I can't prescribe anything to anyone who hasn't signed a release form. I don't want to jeopardize our standing with the FDA." She set the bottle back on its shelf. Just fourteen of them, and Mark would be the person he had been before. If I could distract her somehow ... But there were at least a dozen people crowded into the doctor's office. There was no way I could get a pill. I got some background information from Dr. Clark -- where she was born, where she went to school -- and made my way back to the office. My editor Thomas stopped me before I got to my cubicle. "Amy," he said. There was an edge of excitement in his voice I had never heard before. Because of the plague I never know what to expect from the paper. Some days the printers run whole sections of autobiography, some days they catch it in time and leave huge parts of the paper blank. "What is it?" I asked. "Gary got the plague," he said. "You've got to come see this." "Gary? How can you tell?" "Come on," he said. Gary seems to have always had the plague -- that is, Gary has never paid attention to anyone else in his life. Unlike the victims of the plague, though, he's always been very sneaky about it, managing to turn the conversation toward himself with all the subtlety and dexterity of a master chess player. Intrigued, I followed Thomas down the hall. |
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