Нейромант

           ’

           `Whatabout?’Shesat.Casefeltthebladesmove,veryslightly,beneathhernails.

           `Whatevercomestomind.Mymind.It’smyparty.Thecoreswokeme.Twentyhoursago.Somethingwasafoot,theysaid,andIwasneeded.WereyouthesomethingMolly?Surelytheydidn’tneedmetohandleyou,no.Somethingelse...butI’dbeendreaming,yousee.Forthirtyyears.Youweren’tborn,whenlastIlaymedowntosleep.Theytolduswewouldn’tdream,inthatcold.Theytolduswe’dneverfeelcold,either.Madness,Molly.Lies.OfcourseIdreamed.Thecoldlettheoutsidein,thatwasit.Theoutside.AllthenightIbuiltthistohideusfrom.Justadrop,atfirst,onegrainofnightseepingin,drawnbythecold...Othersfollowingit,fillingmyheadthewayrainfillsanemptypool.Callalilies.Iremember.Thepoolswereterracotta,nursemaidsallofchrome,howthelimbswentwinkingthroughthegardensatsunset...I’mold,Molly.Overtwohundredyears,ifyoucountthecold.Thecold.’Thebarrelofthepistolsnappedupsuddenly,quivering.Thetendonsinherthighsweredrawntightaswiresnow.

           `Youcangetfreezerburn,’shesaidcarefully.

           `Nothingburnsthere,’hesaidimpatiently,loweringthegun.Hisfewmovementswereincreasinglysclerotic.Hisheadnodded.Itcosthimanefforttostopit.`Nothingburns.Iremembernow.Thecorestoldmeourintelligencesaremad.Andallthebillionswepaid,solongago.