Нейромант
Chapter 8
’
`YouknowhowfastIcancutyou,friend?’
`Don’stan’talkin’,sister.Come.’
ThetwosurvivingFoundersofZionwereoldmen,oldwiththeacceleratedagingthatovertakesmenwhospendtoomanyyearsoutsidetheembraceofgravity.Theirbrownlegs,brittlewithcalciumloss,lookedfragileintheharshglareofreflectedsunlight.Theyfloatedinthecenterofapaintedjungleofrainbowfoliage,aluridcommunalmuralthatcompletelycoveredthehullofthesphericalchamber.Theairwasthickwithresinoussmoke.
`Steppin’Razor,’onesaid,asMollydriftedintothechamber.`Likeuntoawhippin’stick.’
`Thatisastorywehave,sister,’saidtheother,`areligionstory.Wearegladyou’vecomewithMaelcum.’
`Howcomeyoudon’ttalkthepatois?’Mollyasked.
`IcamefromLosAngeles,’theoldmansaid.Hisdreadlockswerelikeamattedtreewithbranchesthecolorofsteelwool.`Longtimeago,upthegravitywellandoutofBabylon.ToleadtheTribeshome.NowmybrotherlikensyoutoSteppin’Razor.’
Mollyextendedherrighthandandthebladesflashedinthesmokyair.
TheotherFounderlaughed,hisheadthrownback.`Sooncome,theFinalDays...Voices.Voicescryin’innawilderness,prophesyin’ruinuntoBabylon...’
`Voices.’TheFounderfromLosAngeleswasstaringatCase.`Wemonitormanyfrequencies.Welistenalways.
