"Kristine Kathryn Rusch - Chimera" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rusch Kristine Kathryn)

Chimera
by Kristine Kathryn Rusch


The car stopped on the rain-soaked side street. Ancient oaks covered the road
like a poorly maintained roof, making a dark day seem even darker. Gen checked
the guidance system on her new Toyota. Everything seemed to be working
properly. She peered through the water-streaked windshield and saw only
twentieth-century farmhouses, lovingly restored and painted nice sedate
colors—brown and tan and the occasional white. Not that the colors made much
of a difference in this weather.

Sometimes it felt as if she were trapped in darkness, as if the gray
netherworld of an Oregon winter would never end. Dr. Prichard wanted her to go
to Hawaii or the southwest to soak up some light, but Gen felt as if she
didn't deserve light—at least, not yet.

In her right hand, Gen still held the piece of paper Dr. Prichard had given
her. The paper was crumpled now and the doctor's bold scrawl smeared. The
paper hadn't been necessary. Dr. Prichard, at Gen's request, had had her
computer send the address to Gen's car. But these days, Gen liked double and
triple backups, especially those that could not be wiped out in an instant.
Dr. Prichard said it was a reaction to the accident, a passing insecurity,
brought on by Gen's heightened knowledge of the fragility of life.

She was shivering. The car had shut off, and the February chill was beginning
to permeate the plush interior. The car's computer beeped. In another three
minutes, it would beep again and then, in its polite androgynous voice, would
ask if she wanted to leave the neighborhood. If she'd known when she bought
the car that she had to inform it each time she just wanted to sit with all
the systems off, she would have thought twice about buying it. But she hadn't
discovered that feature until a week after the papers were signed. By then, it
was too much hassle to take it back.

She glanced at the paper again. Part of the reason she was delaying was that
she had expected a commercial neighborhood, or at least one that was part of a
research park. She hadn't expected a residential street, not from Dr.
Prichard's descriptions.

The other reason was harder to admit: She didn't want a companion,
particularly not one that had been assigned to her. She had told Dr. Prichard
that she would be perfectly fine living alone.

The car beeped a second time, but before the voice could make its request, Gen
grabbed the door handle and let herself out.

The rain was cold. It came with a wind strong enough to make the drops slash
her despite the canopy of trees. Her coat sealed at her wrists and waist, and
a hood slipped over her head. She pushed the material back down. Not even her
clothing allowed her to make her own choices any more.