Нейромант

           Beneathagreent-shirt,hediscoveredaflat,origami-wrappedpackage,recycledJapanesepaper.

           Thepapertorewhenhepickeditup;abrightnine-pointedstarfell-tostickuprightinacrackintheparquet.

           `Souvenir,’Mollysaid.`Inoticedyouwerealwayslookingat’em.’Heturnedandsawhersittingcrossleggedonthebed,sleepilyscratchingherstomachwithburgundynails.

           `Someone’scominglatertosecuretheplace,’Armitagesaid.Hestoodintheopendoorwaywithanold-fashionedmagnetickeyinhishand.MollywasmakingcoffeeonatinyGermanstoveshetookfromherbag.

           `Icandoit,’shesaid.`Igotenoughgearalready.Infrascanperimeter,screamers...’

           `No,’hesaid,closingthedoor.`Iwantittight.’

           `Suityourself.’Sheworeadarkmesht-shirttuckedintobaggyblackcottonpants.

           `Youevertheheat,Mr.Armitage?’Caseasked,fromwherehesat,hisbackagainstawall.

           ArmitagewasnotallerthanCase,butwithhisbroadshouldersandmilitarypostureheseemedtofillthedoorway.HeworeasomberItaliansuit;inhisrighthandheheldabriefcaseofsoftblackcalf.TheSpecialForcesearringwasgone.Thehandsome,inexpressivefeaturesofferedtheroutinebeautyofthecosmeticboutiques,aconservativeamalgamofthepastdecade’sleadingmediafaces.Thepaleglitterofhiseyesheightenedtheeffectofamask.Casebegantoregretthequestion.