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"
Trepp
looked
at
her
drink
,
embarrassed
.
"
Maybe
.
"
There
was
another
place
,
called
Cable
or
something
synonymous
,
where
the
walls
were
racked
with
colour
-
coded
conduits
out
of
whose
designer
-
cracked
casings
wires
sprouted
like
stiff
copper
hair
.
At
intervals
along
the
bar
were
hooks
draped
with
thin
,
lethal
-
looking
cables
that
ended
in
gleaming
silver
minijacks
.
In
the
air
above
the
bar
,
a
huge
holographic
jack
and
socket
flicked
spasmodically
to
the
off
-
beat
music
that
filled
the
place
like
water
.
At
times
,
the
components
seemed
to
change
into
sex
organs
,
but
that
could
he
been
tetrameth
-
induced
hallucination
on
my
part
.
I
was
sitting
at
the
bar
,
something
sweet
smouldering
in
an
ashtray
at
my
elbow
.
From
the
sludgy
feeling
in
my
lungs
and
throat
,
I
’
d
been
smoking
it
.
The
bar
was
crowded
but
I
suffered
the
strange
conviction
I
was
alone
.
On
either
side
of
me
,
the
other
customers
at
the
bar
were
jacked
into
the
thin
cables
,
eyes
flickering
beneath
lids
that
seemed
bruised
,
mouths
twitched
into
dreamy
half
smiles
.
One
of
them
was
Trepp
.
I
was
alone
.
Things
that
might
have
been
thoughts
were
tugging
at
the
abraded
underside
of
my
mind
.
I
picked
up
the
cigarette
and
drew
on
it
,
grimly
.
Now
was
no
time
for
thinking
.
No
time
for
—
Viral
Strike
!
!
!
—
thinking
.
Streets
passing
beneath
my
feet
the
way
the
rubble
of
Innenin
passed
under
Jimmy
’
s
boots
as
he
walked
along
beside
me
in
my
dreams
.
