"Bruce Sterling & Lewis Shiner - Mozart in Mirrorshades" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sterling Bruce)

way it looked.”
 “Mozart? You’ve been fraternizing with him? Don’t you think we should just let him be? After everything we’ve don
him?”

“Bullshit,” Rice said. “I’m entitled. I spent two years on start-up while you were playing touch football with Robespi
and Thomas Paine. I make a few night spots with Wolfgang and you’re all over me. What about Parker? I don’t hear yo
bitching about him playing rock and roll on his late show every night. You can hear it blasting out of every cheap transist
town.”

“He’s propaganda officer. Believe me, if I could stop him I would, but Parker’s a special case. He’s got connection
over the place back in Realtime.” She rubbed her cheek. “Let’s drop it, okay? Just try to be polite to President Jefferso
He’s had a hard time of it lately.”

Sutherland’s secretary, a former Hapsburg lady-in-waiting, stepped in to announce the plane’s arrival. Jefferson pus
angrily past her. He was tall for a local, with a mane of blazing red hair and the shiftiest eyes Rice had ever seen. “Sit do
Mr. President.” Sutherland waved at the far side of the table. “Would you like some coffee or tea?”

Jefferson scowled. “Perhaps some Madeira,” he said. “If you have it.”

Sutherland nodded to her secretary, who stared for a moment in incomprehension, then hurried off. “How was the
flight?” Sutherland asked.

“Your engines are most impressive,” Jefferson said, “as you well know.” Rice saw the subtle trembling of the man’s
hands; he hadn’t taken well to jet flight. “I only wish your political sensitivities were as advanced.”

“You know I can’t speak for my employers,” Sutherland said. “For myself, I deeply regret the darker aspects of ou
operations. Florida will be missed.”

Irritated, Rice leaned forward. “You’re not really here to discuss sen-sibilities, are you?”

“Freedom, sir,” Jefferson said. “Freedom is the issue.” The secretary returned with a dust-caked bottle of sherry an
stack of clear plastic cups. Jefferson, his hands visibly shaking now, poured a glass and tossed it back. Color returned to
face. He said, “You made certain promises when we joined forces. You guaranteed us liberty and equality and the freed
to pursue our own happiness. Instead we find your machinery on all sides, your cheap manufactured goods seducing the
people of our great country, our minerals and works of art disappearing into your fortresses, never to reappear!” The las
brought Jefferson to his feet.

Sutherland shrank back into her chair. “The common good requires a certain period of-uh, adjustment-”

“Oh, come on, Tom,” Rice broke in. “We didn’t ‘join forces,’ that’s a lot of crap. We kicked the Brits out and you
and you had damn-all to do with it. Second, if we drill for oil and carry off a few paintings, it doesn’t have a goddamned
to do with your liberty. We don’t care. Do whatever you like, just stay out of our way. Right? If we wanted a lot of bac
we could have left the damn British in power.”

Jefferson sat down. Sutherland meekly poured him another glass, which he drank off at once. “I cannot understand
he said. “You claim you come from the future, yet you seem bent on destroying your own past.”

“But we’re not,” Rice said. “It’s this way. History is like a tree, okay? When you go back and mess with the past,
another branch of history splits off from the main trunk. Well, this world is just one of those branches.”