"Judith Merril - The Future of Happiness" - читать интересную книгу автора (Merril Judith)

with the gentlest of air pressures. A spicy scent - she frowns, and makes a small adjustment, and
lemon whiffs up over cinnamon. She focuses outward, and the gleaming shape on the horizon
shows itself to be a gilded catamaran, crimson-sailed. On the ship's deck a bronzed figure is now
visible. The sail tightens against the wind.
Shivering deliciously, Zelda makes another small adjustment. Diaphanous clouds of gauzy silk
enfold her limbs. Music? No. Realism, she decides, is better: the breeze in the leaves and the
lapping of waves are all the sound she needs. She pushes the button for Play-through .. .
. . . and as the moon rises over the lagoon, Zelda savors the taste of roast pork and pineapples
still on her tongue, and revels in the marvelous torpor suffusing her body. Night dew patters on
the bower of palm fronds arched over her couch of balsam and pine. The gentle night wind blows
softly through.
The tube to the intravenous needle falls limp, the sleep-tapes murmur satisfaction, the couch
kneads her flaccid muscles in restorative massage, and Zelda sleeps in total joy.
Or perhaps 2001?
In the garden, Jan contentedly ties up dahlias. The warming sun, the glowing colors, the faint
scent of baking bread wafting from the open kitchen door to mix with the fragrance of roses and
petunias, the baby's babbling nonsense syllables - Jan stops a moment and feels - this is purest
pleasure in a classical pattern feels simple gratitude to a bountiful universe.
A tug at jeans leg: the baby is silent now, lips com pressed, face intent, she clutches parental
cloth, pulls herself clownishly erect, chortles with glee, lets go, and stands alone!
Jan sits back on haunches, breathless, fearful even to stir the air, hand held cautiously to be
grabbed when -
When needed - now! Baby overbalances, grabs, holds, and steps into Jan's exultant embrace!
He tosses her up in the air, hoists her to his shoulder, and bounces her into the house.
Checks the time.
Noriko's big meeting should be over by now. He dials, beaming.
"Noriko, she took her first step!"
*
All the colors of the rainbow. How do you measure red against blue? Baby's first step or a twirl in
space? Is the joy of the triumphant chess master greater or less than that of the long distance swimmer?
Is religious ecstasy more or deeper than the delight of the three-year-old with a shiny new red ball?
Will tomorrow's happiness be bigger or better or brighter than yesterday's? No. Just different - the
way it always has been.