Нейромант

           `Well,’hesaid,`that’sanadvantage,right?’

           `Maybe.’Theconstructapproximatedlaughter.Casewincedatthesensation.`Icheckedol’KuangElevenoutagainforyou,boy.It’srealfriendly,longasyou’reonthetriggerend,jus’politean’helpfulascanbe.SpeaksgoodEnglish,too.Youeverhearofslowvirusbefore?’

           `No.’

           `Idid,once.Justanidea,backthen.Butthat’swhatol’Kuang’sallabout.Thisain’tboreandinject,it’smorelikeweinterfacewiththeicesoslow,theicedoesn’tfeelit.ThefaceoftheKuanglogicskindasleazesuptothetargetandmutates,soitgetstobeexactlyliketheicefabric.Thenwelockonandthemainprogramscutin,starttalkingcircles’roundthelogicsintheice.WegoSiamesetwinon’embeforetheyevengetrestless.’TheFlatlinelaughed.

           `Wishyouweren’tsodamnjollytoday,man.Thatlaughofyourssortofgetsmeinthespine.’

           `Toobad,’theFlatlinesaid.`Ol’deadmanneedshislaughs.’Caseslappedthesimstimswitch.

           Andcrashedthroughtangledmetalandthesmellofdust,theheelsofhishandsskiddingastheystruckslickpaper.Somethingbehindhimcollapsednoisily.

           `C’mon,’saidtheFinn,`easeupalittle.’

           Caselaysprawledacrossapileofyellowingmagazines,thegirlsshiningupathiminthedimnessofMetroHolografix,awistfulgalaxyofsweetwhiteteeth.