Нейромант

           Thedarkcamedownlikeahammer.

           Coldsteelodorandicecaressedhisspine.

           Andfacespeeringinfromaneonforest,sailorsandhustlersandwhores,underapoisonedsilversky...

           `Look,Case,youtellmewhatthefuckisgoingonwithyou,youwigorsomething?’

           Asteadypulseofpain,midwaydownhisspine-

           Rainwokehim,aslowdrizzle,hisfeettangledincoilsofdiscardedfiberoptics.Thearcade’sseaofsoundwashedoverhim,receded,returned.Rollingover,hesatupandheldhishead.

           Lightfromaservicehatchattherearofthearcadeshowedhimbrokenlengthsofdampchipboardandthedrippingchassisofaguttedgameconsole.StreamlinedJapanesewasstenciledacrossthesideoftheconsoleinfadedpinksandyellows.

           Heglancedupandsawasootyplasticwindow,afaintglowoffluorescents.

           Hisbackhurt,hisspine.

           Hegottohisfeet,brushedwethairoutofhiseyes.

           Somethinghadhappened...

           Hesearchedhispocketsformoney,foundnothing,andshivered.Wherewashisjacket?Hetriedtofindit,lookedbehindtheconsole,butgaveup.

           OnNinsei,hetookthemeasureofthecrowd.Friday.IttobeaFriday.Lindawasprobablyinthearcade.Mighthavemoney,oratleastcigarettes...Coughing,wringingrainfromthefrontofhisshirt,heedgedthroughthecrowdtothearcade’sentrance.