"Frank Herbert - Operation Syndrome" - читать интересную книгу автора (Herbert Brian & Frank)

 A woman in a red fur cape approached, her sandals tapping a swift rhythm on the
concrete. Her cape billowed behind in a puff of breeze.
He looked up to her face framed in dark hair. Every muscle in his body locked. She was the
woman of his nightmare down to the minutest detail! His eyes followed her. She saw him
staring, looked away, walked past.
Eric fumbled his papers together, closed the notebook and ran after her. He caught up,
matched his steps to hers, still staring, unthinking. She looked at him, flushed, looked away.
"Go away or I'll call a cop!"
"Please, I have to talk to you."
"I said go away." She increased her pace; he matched it.
"Please forgive me, but I dreamed about you last night. You see -- "
She stared straight ahead.
"I've been told that one before! Go away!"
"But you don't understand."
She stopped, turned and faced him, shaking with anger. "But I do understand! You saw my
show last night! You've dreamed about me!" She wagged her head. "Miss Lanai, I must get to
know you!"
Eric shook his head. "But I've never even heard of you or seen you before."
"Well! I'm not accustomed to being insulted either!" She whirled, walked away briskly, the
red cape flowing out behind her. Again he caught up with her.
"Please -- "
"I'll scream!"
"I'm a psychoanalyst."
She hesitated, slowed, stopped. A puzzled expression flowed over her face. "Well, that's a
new approach."
He took advantage of her interest. "I really did dream about you. It was most disturbing. I
couldn't shut it off."
Something in his voice, his manner -- She laughed, "A real dream was bound to show up
some day."
"I'm Dr. Eric Ladde."
She glanced at the caduceus over his breast pocket. "I'm Colleen Lanai; I sing."
He winced. "I know."
"I thought you'd never heard of me."
"You sang in my dream."
"Oh." A pause. "Are you really a psychoanalyst?"
He slipped a card from his breast pocket; handed it to her. She looked at it.
"What does 'Teleprobe Diagnosis' mean?"
"That's an instrument I use."
She returned the card, linked an arm through his, set an easy, strolling pace. "All right,
doctor. You tell me about your dream and I'll tell you about my headaches. Fair exchange?"
She peered up at him from under thick eyelashes.
"Do you have headaches?"
"Terrible headaches." She shook her head.
Eric looked down at her. Some of the nightmare unreality returned. He thought, "What am I
doing here? One doesn't dream about a strange face and then meet her in the flesh the next
day. The next thing I know the whole world of my unconscious will come alive."
"Could it be this Syndrome thing?" she asked. "Ever since we were in Los Angeles I've -- "
She chewed at her lip.
He stared at her. "You were in Los Angeles?"
"We got out just a few hours before that ... before -- " She shuddered. "Doctor, what's it