"Kathleen Ann Goonan - The Bridge" - читать интересную книгу автора (Goose Mother)

“Because they are sure that they’ll sell me the real thing.”

She leveled a look at me. “They will.”

I looked around at the smooth, bookless surfaces of the library. “I
hardly believed it, but it’s true. No books.”

“Oh, there are books! Millions more than we ever had when they were
made of paper and cloth.”

“I’m actually looking for several things.”

“We’ll get you set up first.” She glanced at the clock. “That should
take fifteen minutes.”

“And it will wear off ?”

“Your ability to comprehend information metapheromonically will,
unfortunately, last only twelve hours.”

“Is it really that precise?”

Her voice was stern. “Of course. It is completely biological. Nothing is
more precise than biochemistry.”

“Let’s go, then.”

She opened a package and pressed a strip of something sticky to the
skin on the back of my hand. In the package was also a sugar-cube-sized
black object, onto which she pressed the strip. It made no sound; it did not
flash; it was simply a black cube.

After a moment the cube turned white.

“Eat it,” she said.
 “Nothing happened,” I said, after it dissolved in my mouth, tasting not
unlike a sugar cube.

“Give it a minute.” She went back to her desk and busied herself with
some chores, during which time several small, pale green ovals formed on
both of my palms.

I called to her. “I think it’s ready.” I looked at my hands with some
trepidation. What had I done?

She hurried over. “Orientation.” She handed me a pair of gloves.
“Please stay seated for the next few minutes.”

I could hardly have budged.