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- Ричард Морган
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- Стр. 458/560
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The
anger
ran
through
the
fog
in
my
head
like
a
hot
wire
.
I
propped
myself
up
on
an
elbow
and
focused
on
Kadmin
waiting
on
the
other
side
of
the
ring
.
He
saw
me
and
raised
his
hands
in
an
echo
of
the
gesture
I
had
used
before
.
The
crowd
howled
with
laughter
.
Get
to
the
next
screen
.
I
lurched
to
my
feet
.
You
don
’
t
do
your
chores
,
the
Patchwork
Man
will
come
for
you
one
night
.
The
voice
jumped
into
my
head
,
a
voice
I
hadn
’
t
heard
in
nearly
a
century
and
a
half
of
objective
time
.
A
man
I
hadn
’
t
soiled
my
memory
with
for
most
of
my
adult
life
.
My
father
,
and
his
delightful
bedtime
stories
.
Trust
him
to
turn
up
now
,
when
I
really
needed
the
shit
:
.
The
Patchwork
Man
will
come
for
you
.
Well
,
you
got
that
wrong
,
Dad
.
The
Patchwork
Man
’
s
standing
right
over
there
,
waiting
.
He
’
s
not
coming
for
me
,
have
to
go
and
get
him
myself
.
But
thanks
anyway
,
Dad
.
Thanks
for
everything
.
I
summoned
what
was
left
from
cellular
levels
in
Ryker
’
s
body
and
stalked
forward
.
Glass
shattered
,
high
above
the
killing
floor
.
The
shards
rained
down
on
the
space
between
Kadmin
and
myself
.
"
Kadmin
!
"
