"Robert E. Vardeman - Feedback" - читать интересную книгу автора (Vardeman Robert E)

Bob Vardeman has done it all in science fiction and out of it— he's also written westerns, fantasies, an
about anything else you can think of, including original Star Trek novelizations and, most recently, Hell Hear
#5). He's particularly adept at melding himself into series books, but when he turns to something purely of hi
invention, watch out.
"Feedback" is a weird one—it's about sex (which means that you've already stopped reading this headnot
started in on the tale that follows) but it's also about much more.

Feedback
Robert E. Vardeman

Visions of half-eaten junk food danced in Greer's head. He closed his eyes tightly
concentrated on only a few of the murky, indistinct fried tofu chips shaped into faux pork r
Too many extraneous images intruded. As he focused the best he could on the ever-shift
tormentingly shouted words and mind-searing images, a migraine headache started
back in the vast reaches of his mind and spreading until it was a dark web sticking like glu
his every thought, dragging down every synapse.
These tofu chips are shit! blasted into his mind, causing Greer to reel. His thin-fing
hand clung to the desk as new waves of pain built in intensity. He sensed the tsun
approaching and tried to break off and get out of the man's mind.
"Don't," came the cold words. "Don't you dare. We have to find out why the test g
doesn't approve of Tofu Tasties."
Greer's watery eyes blinked open. Tears welled and ran down his cheeks. He did not w
them away. The pain surged now and threatened to tear away his sanity.
'It's because they taste like crap," he grated out. Did you receive that, or are you tr
to weasel out of work again?"
'That's what he's thinking." Greer swallowed hard and finally wiped away the tears w
a crisp linen handkerchief taken from his coat pocket. This always happened whe
delved too deeply into a non-telepath's squalid, unfocused mind.
Why couldn't I get a telepath for a damned taste test? They wouldn't torture me like
with so much unmanageable fury. They focus themselves, he screamed mentally. The ec
of his own thoughts rebounded from distant unknown corners in his own mind and prod
even more pain.
Are you all right, Greer? came a faint, distant thought as soothing as the other was gra
Controlled, soft, like a cool drink on a sweltering day.
"Kathee," he gasped out, not sure if he sent it telepathically or spoke aloud. Greer cu
under his breath when he heard Lawrence Macmil-lan snort in disgust. The head of rese
marketing considered any telepathic contact other than with his precious test human "reso
elements" to be a waste of valuable assets. Find those markets. Get them to buy. Dig into
consumers' deepest hidden thoughts and find out what they really think so they can be coe
into buying Tofu Tasties shit chips.
"You are on company time," Macmillan said coldly. "No personal communication."
"My head hurts," Greer said.
Greer?
He took a deep, calming breath, but the migraine refused to fade. He absorbed not only
vile taste of fried-in-pork-grease tofu but also the pent-up anger of the test subject. The
felt intense guilt because he was being paid to sample a product he hated. He wanted to s
out negatively but felt it would be a betrayal of taking money to try what he was told w
fine, tasty, healthful new comfort food. It was worse for Greer because he worked so har
insinuate himself into the man's mind and had finally found what he thought of as a m
resonance. He meshed with the nontelepathy through extreme effort and then paid the price