Нейромант

           ’

           `No,’hesaid,suddenlysad,hisfragileshoulderssagging.Herubbedhisfootagainstthesand.`Itismoresimplethanthat.Butthechoiceisyours.’ThegrayeyesregardedCasegravely.Afreshwaveofsymbolssweptacrosshisvision,onelineatatime.Behindthem,theboywriggled,asthoughseenthroughheatrisingfromsummerasphalt.Themusicwasloudnow,andCasecouldalmostmakeoutthelyrics.

           `Case,honey,’Lindasaid,andtouchedhisshoulder.

           `No,’hesaid.Hetookoffhisjacketandhandedittoher.`Idon’tknow,’hesaid,`maybeyou’rehere.Anyway,itgetscold.’

           Heturnedandwalkedaway,andaftertheseventhstep,he’dclosedhiseyes,watchingthemusicdefineitselfatthecenterofthings.Hedidlookback,once,althoughhedidn’topenhiseyes.

           Hedidn’tneedto.

           Theyweretherebytheedgeofthesea,LindaLeeandthethinchildwhosaidhisnamewasNeuromancer.Hisleatherjacketdangledfromherhand,catchingthefringeofthesurf.

           Hewalkedon,followingthemusic.

           Maelcum’sZiondub.

           Therewasagrayplace,animpressionoffinescreensshifting,moire,degreesofhalftonegeneratedbyaverysimplegraphicsprogram.Therewasalongholdonaviewthroughchainlink,gullsfrozenabovedarkwater.Therewerevoices