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

moving into the second decade of its second century with no immediate end in
sight.

Water was dripping off her face into the sink. The unexpected nature of Dar's
death, Dr. Prichard had said, combined with the trauma to her own body was
creating a new world for her, a world in which people didn't live forever, and
the strength she had taken for granted could be taken away from her in a
heartbeat. Dr. Prichard had once said that what Gen was struggling with was
the essence of being human.

She hated it. She hated it all. She shouldn't be listening to the doctors
anymore. Maybe she should move, start all over again, in a place without
memories.

A crunch behind her made her turn. Cedric was eating out of his bowl, his head
bent, but his body alert. He had been a mistake, too. As much of a mistake as
that pitiful dog would have been. She didn't want anyone else in her house.
She didn't want her privacy disturbed by anyone. She didn't want to think
about anyone else's welfare, especially when she had no control over it at
all.

He drank as if he hadn't had water in weeks, then sat and stared at her. Those
green eyes took in her wet face, her still shaking hands, and then perused the
clean kitchen. He seemed to be waiting for something, but she didn't know what
and she didn't know how to find out.

She walked past him and headed toward the closed door, thinking maybe she
would sit in Dar's room. But when she reached the hallway, she realized she
didn't want to go there. Instead she walked past it to the entertainment
room.

Everything was covered in a fine coating of dust. She usually had House
download her e-mail in the guest room, and she watched vid-net news from her
bed when she felt like it. Lately she had been watching news on the Moon
colonies as if it were designed for her. But she hadn't been in this part of
the house, with its large holoviewer, its flat movie screen, and its games,
since she'd come home from the hospital.

She sank into her leather chair, and immediately music came on: a Chopin
sonata, the piano warm and beautiful and oh, so comforting. She had forgotten
her music. How had she done that? She closed her eyes and leaned back, letting
it flow through her, as it used to do.

Then she felt something soft brush against her arm. She opened her eyes.
Cedric was sitting on the arm rest, his tail touching her, as if he were
afraid he would get in trouble. When he saw her looking at him, he inclined
his head slightly. She patted her lap, but he didn't crawl in it.

She closed her eyes again. The music ebbed and flowed, like the tide, like
passion, and, after a while, she felt Cedric's tail wrap gently around her