"Maureen McHugh - Virtual Love" - читать интересную книгу автора (McHugh Maureen F)

Eventually, I couldn’t stand it anymore. That’s when I set up the green room.
I made Sulia, first. I didn’t plan to wear Sulia but I knew she was amazing. Sulia’s
the most into the moment of my personas. She’s tall and she’s got comrows all the
way down her brown back in a waterfall of hair. She’s muscular and sleek and
innocently fetal with a beautiful open smile. I’d wear her in the green room for hours,
where no one could see me, just being her. Then, when I’d pull the helmet off there
would be this moment when I had to remember I was just me. And I hated it.

But I have to be really riding high to wear Sulia. I built her first and she was
inspired, but I didn’t wear her first.

I started with Terese. Terese is a pale wisp of a thing in a soft, flowered dress,
rose and pale green like spring to go with her pale hair. Terese doesn’t overpower a
room, she works on it like perfume. Terese listens a lot and people confide in her.
People will say the most amazing, intimate things if you let them. It was easy to be
Terese because one of her traits is that she’s still. People think it means that she is
calm. I can be very still.

Today I think I’ll do Alicia. She’s the persona I wear most often anymore.

There are a bunch of things besides makeup on the desk. There’s a rose in a
bud vase — that’s Terese. If I pick up the rose I put on Terese. I pick up a fine gold
chain and I am Alicia, a sleek woman with long warm brown hair swept up in a
French braid. Almost all my personas have long hair. I worry about that, but my hair
is mousy brown and thin and I always wanted long hair even though it would be so
much trouble. Still, I am afraid it might become part of a signature. They should all
be different, all be individual.

Alicia looks back at me from the mirror, her sun brown arms bare and
smooth, her little ivory silk shift simple. That’s Alicia, simple and unadorned and
direct.

I point with the glove and I’m moving to the door. I open the door and go out
into the world.

The access is always a big lobby, with menus posted. I study the menus,
skipping the games, Illuminati, Knights Templar, Cthulu, Voodoo Horsemen,
International Spy, looking for places. Doc’s is all right, I’ve been there. The Black
Hole is fun. Nightmare is a dud. Madame Stael’s is one of my favorites, so I tap the
menu, and the elevator door opens. Take a deep breath in the elevator.

The elevator opens and I’m looking down a long room, something like the
Hall of Mirrors in Versailles. To the left are windows looking out on a garden, to the
right are huge, gilt framed mirrors, and between the mirrors are doors to Salons. I
head for the cafe, three doors down.

“Allo, Alicia,” says Paul-Michel, the bartender. “Champagne?”

“A glass of Bordeaux.” Paul-Michel is an eliza program. He’ll let you pour out
your troubles for hours and he always remembers your name. The only problem is