"Mary Rosenblum - Home Movies" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rosenblum Mary)

as an invited guest of a family member who had not planned the wedding. And, thus, was not paying the
security firm. But this was nothing new, and she endured the familiar roadblocks stoically. Kidnap raids
were real, and her client would have to suffer the delays, too, when she consumed the nano.

But once she boarded the private shuttle from Miami International, everything changed. Her invitation
coin had been declared good, and all the perks were in place. The flight attendant offered fresh, tropical,
organic fruit. Wine if she wanted it. Excellent tea, which she enjoyed. She was used to sleeping on
planes, and so woke, refreshed, as the shuttle swooped down to land on the wedding island. She was the
only passenger on this run, and, as the door unsealed and the rampway unfurled, she drew in a deep
breath of humidity, flowers, rot, and soil. A vestigal memory stirred. Yes, she had been in a place like this
... maybe this place ... before. Funny how smell was the strongest link to the fragments of past jobs that
had seeped past the nano. She descended the rampway to the small landing, and headed for the pink
stucco buildings of the tiny airport terminal, figuring she'd find some kind of shuttle service. Flowering
vines covered the walls and spilled out over the tiled entryway and the scent evoked another twinge of
been here memory. As she paused, a tall figure stepped from the doorway.

"You must be Jeruna's guest." He smiled at her, his posture a bit wary, dressed in a loose-weave linen
shirt and shorts. "I'm Ethan." He offered his hand. "I belong to the ne'er-do-well branch of the family so I
get to play chauffeur for the occasion. Welcome to the wedding of the decade." He said it lightly, but his
hazel eyes were reserved.

"Nice to meet you, Ethan." Kayla returned his firm handshake, decided he was as cute as the vids she'd
looked at, and let him take her bag. Tossing her hair back from her face, she smiled as she studied him.
Why you? she wondered as she followed him through the tiled courtyard of the private airport, past a
shallow, marble fountain full of leaping water and golden fish. "I'm looking forward to being a guest here,"
she said as they reached the roadway outside.

"Really?" He turned to face her, his hand on the small electric cart parked outside. "This is a job to you,
right? Can you really let yourself enjoy something like this? Won't your thoughts about it mess up what
you're recording?"

Great. Kayla sighed. "So who leaked it? That I'm a chameleon?"

"Is that what you call yourself ?" He stowed her luggage, which had been delivered by a uniformed
baggage handler, in the rear cargo space of the cart. "Doesn't it weird you out? That you're going to hand
over your thoughts and feelings to somebody ... for pay?"

He wasn't being hostile, as so many were. He was really asking. "The nano can't record thoughts." Kayla
smiled as she climbed into the cart's passenger seat, inwardly more than a little ticked off. It made her job
harder when they knew. Now she wouldn't get really good reactions until he got used to her, forgot she
was recording. And a lot of times, in the really good moments, some family member who had had too
much to drink would remember and say something. She sighed. "The nano only records sensory input ...
vision, hearing, taste, touch, smell. That's it. We haven't developed telepathy yet. Your great great aunt ...
or whatever she is ... gets to experience the event with all of her senses, not just vision and hearing."

"Oh." Ethan climbed in beside her, his face thoughtful. "Isn't it kind of weird, though? Hanging out with
strangers all the time?"

"Not really." She lifted her hair off her neck as the cart surged forward, enjoying the breeze of their
motion in the heavy, humid afternoon. Well, he had never lived outside, probably couldn't see beyond the