Mardock Scramble полностью

Faceman continued in his matter-of-fact tone. “They won’t trouble us, though. Their sensory fields are programmed with a system that limits their perception of potential targets. In other words, the only things they’re able to comprehend are those who we decide are enemies who’ve invaded from the outside.”

At that moment, the cries—from the one who had been designated as such an enemy—testified to a fear such as had never been experienced before. Then the voice changed again, into a high-pitched whimper that called out Boiled’s name. A pitiful voice. A voice of one who, faced with a certain and terrible death, desperately tried to inflict a lasting impression on those still alive to hear.

Boiled, though, wouldn’t even look up. He simply stared at Faceman, gun still pointed right at him, as if he were waiting for the Professor’s next move.

Faceman sighed again, shaking his head. “By the way, do you know why it is that sharks attack people?” he asked in a tone of voice that seemed to rebuke Boiled for his unwaveringly hostile posture. “In a peaceful swimming spot, for example. Or a beach famous for its gentle waves? Do you know why they suddenly bare their teeth at humans?”

Boiled didn’t answer.

“This question was a puzzle for many years. The sharks aren’t usually hungry at the time of their attacks, and sharks as a species don’t show any territorial tendencies—they’re not generally bothered by anyone encroaching on their space. There are exceptions, of course—some of the documented attacks on people are due to hunger, or out of aggression. But no more than a few percent of all cases. After all, sharks haven’t evolved to attack any unidentified object when hungry or angry—they wouldn’t survive, in the long run. So why, then? Are human beings such an easy prey for sharks? Fish are a much easier prey than humans, who are many times the size of the fishes that constitute the average prey for a shark.”

The screams overhead started to die out. The sound of red rainfall lessened, and Faceman continued speaking as if he were revealing a juicy secret. “For a long time there was a big question as to why sharks attacked humans when it was apparently neither necessary nor useful for them to do so—but the answer was actually staring us in the face. So simple, in fact, that no one was able to work it out.”

The cries overhead stopped completely, ending abruptly mid-scream. Medium had evidently given up the ghost. Faceman looked up at the sharks as they greedily feasted on the clumps of flesh and bone that no longer resembled any remotely human shape.

“They attack people out of curiosity,” he said. “They turn their teeth on humans just as humans in turn have an impulse to peer at an unknown object or reach out and touch something that takes their interest. It just so happens that the shark’s most developed instruments are their teeth, their sense of smell, and their sense of taste. They just want to know what these things that are floating about the beach are. To know and to taste—metaphorically and literally. The shark is able to sniff out a single drop of blood in the ocean from a distance of many kilometers—why shouldn’t it be driven by the desire to know, to taste what it has just smelled?”

Faceman gave Boiled a look to say that he was now about to speak more seriously than ever. “Shall I tell you what the true nature of violence is, Boiled? It’s curiosity. That’s what’s lurking in the shadows, behind almost every single act of violence anywhere. To know everything of your target and to exercise your own strength and will. To taste everything that there is to taste about oneself. Whatever your motive is for fighting—the feeling of victory, a sense of duty, to compensate for feelings of helplessness, as a road to self-actualization, or due to abnormal character traits—the true nature, the essence of violence remains the same.”

It was as if he were patiently explaining to Boiled why exactly it was that Boiled was pointing the gun at him.

“There’s no impulse in this world more violent than curiosity. And, paradoxically, it’s none other than curiosity that drives people, and animals, on to live. Those who understand this fact—and strive to resist it—they’re the ones who are worthy of the name human.”

Faceman finished speaking and stared at Boiled more closely than ever. “Boiled, my friend, do you really understand where your curiosity—your interests—are taking you in life?”

“The only thing that interests me these days is annihilation.” Boiled’s voice was dignified and solemn.

Without warning, he lowered his gun. At the same time the electromagnetic field surrounding his body started to fade away. “I sense someone employing powerful electronic interference somewhere in this facility.” Boiled raised his other hand into the air as he spoke.

Faceman realized that the regenerative metal fibers in Boiled’s hand were responding to a powerful snarc coming from somewhere else in the facility.