Нейромант

           ThiswaswhereheandWagehadmetwithMatsuga,butwhateverfrontcompanyMatsugahadoperatedwaslonggone.Noterminal,nothing.Lightfromthealleybehindthearcade,filteringinthroughsootblownplastic.Hemadeoutasnakelikeloopoffiberopticsprotrudingfromawallsocket,apileofdiscardedfoodcontainers,andthebladelessnacelleofanelectricfan.

           Thewindowwasasinglepaneofcheapplastic.Heshruggedoutofhisjacket,bundleditaroundhisrighthand,andpunched.Itsplit,requiringtwomoreblowstofreeitfromtheframe.Overthemutedchaosofthegames,analarmbegantocycle,triggeredeitherbythebrokenwindoworbythegirlattheheadofthecorridor.

           Caseturned,pulledhisjacketon,andflickedthecobratofullextension.

           Withthedoorclosed,hewascountingonhistailtoassumehe’dgonethroughtheonehe’dkickedhalfoffitshinges.Thecobra’sbronzepyramidbegantobobgently,thespring-steelshaftamplifyinghispulse.

           Nothinghappened.Therewasonlythesurgingofthealarm,thecrashingofthegames,hishearthammering.Whenthefearcame,itwaslikesomehalf-forgottenfriend.Notthecold,rapidmechanismofthedex-paranoia,butsimpleanimalfear.He’dlivedforsolongonaconstantedgeofanxietythathe’dalmostforgottenwhatrealfearwas.

           Thiscubiclewasthesortofplacewherepeopledied.Hemightdiehere.Theymighthaveguns...

           Acrash,fromthefarendofthecorridor.Aman’svoice,shoutingsomethinginJapanese.Ascream,shrillterror.Anothercrash.