"David Marusek - Getting to Know You" - читать интересную книгу автора (Marusek David)

“Naaaancy,” cried the voice, its gender uncertain. “Nancy, I need
you.”

“Excuse me,” Nancy said.

“I’ll go with you,” Zoranna said and hopped off the stool.

The bedroom was half the size of the living room and contained half
the number of holo beds, plus a real one against the far wall. Zoranna sat
on it. There was a dresser, a recessed closet, a bedside night table.
Expensive-looking men’s clothing hung in the closet. A pair of men’s
slippers was parked under the dresser. And a holo of a soccer match was
playing on the night table. Tiny players in brightly col-ored jerseys swarmed
over a field the size of a doily. The sound was off.

Zoranna watched Nancy sit on her walker seat beneath a bloat-faced
woman bedded upside down on the ceiling. “What exactly are you doing
with these people?”

“I listen mostly.” Nancy replied. “I’m a volunteer hos-pice attendant.”
 “A volunteer? What about the—” she tried to recall Nancy’s most
recent paying occupation, “—the hairdressing?”

“I haven’t done that for years,” Nancy said dryly. “As you may have
noticed, it’s difficult for me to be on my feet all day.”

“Yes, in fact, I did notice,” said Zoranna. “Why is that? I’ve sent you
money.”

Nancy ignored her, looked up at the woman, and said, “I’m here, Mrs.
Hurley. What seems to be the problem?”

Zoranna examined the holos. As in the living room, each bed was a
separate projection, and in the corner of each frame was a network squib
and trickle meter. All of this interactive time was costing someone a pretty
penny.

The woman saw Nancy and said, “Oh, Nancy, thank you for coming.
My bed is wet, but they won’t change it until I sign a permission form, and I
don’t understand.”

“Do you have the form there with you, dear?” said Nancy. “Good, hold
it up.” Mrs. Hurley held up a slate in trembling hands. “Houseputer,” Nancy
said, “capture and display that form.” The document was projected against
the bedroom wall greatly oversized. “That’s a per-mission form for
attendant-assisted suicide, Mrs. Hurley. You don’t have to sign it unless you
want to.”

The woman seemed frightened. “Do I want to, Nancy?”