"Barry B. Longyear - The Hangingstone Rat" - читать интересную книгу автора (Longyear Barry)

THE HANGINGSTONE RAT
by BARRY B. LONGYEAR

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Illustration by John Allemand

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The line between “who” and “what” is likely to get less and less
distinct....

Early on a late summer morning Artificial Beings Crimes took a call
from Okehampton Station reporting a dead bio in North Dartmoor at a place
called Hangingstone Hill. The location was seven kilometers
south-southeast of the army camp, deceased was a dead male rodent
amdroid reported by a hiker: no apparent signs of violence, scene marked,
hiker’s statement received, constable standing by. Rodent bios aren’t
terribly long lived, and it was likely the fellow simply happened to be on the
moor when he pegged it. Likely the death was natural and the owner of the
engrams had another meat suit in stasis. Nonetheless, it had to be
investigated, and it was a welcome opportunity to get out of the city. At
home in Exeter, as I waited for Shad to pick me up with the cruiser, I used
Val’s computer and looked up Hangingstone Hill: a minor legend,
unremarkable history, third highest elevation on the moor.

“Guy’s here,” Val called from the hallway. She padded into the lounge
and hopped up on the desk. I gave her ears a perfunctory scratch. My wife
was a Golden Tonkinese.

“Have a good day, dear,” I said as I went to get my coat.

She looked at the computer screen. “You have a call out on the
moor?”

I pulled on my coat and sealed it. “Yes. Shouldn’t be much of
anything, dear. Dead rat bio reported by a hiker.”

“Well, take care, Harry. I have a premonition.”

I smiled. “Remember your last premonition, dear? Wasn’t it a
furball?”
 “Even so, Harry, take care. I don’t like rats.”

“I understand rats feel the same way about cats. Good-bye, dear.”

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