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Case
punched
for
the
Swiss
banking
sector
,
feeling
a
wave
of
exhilaration
as
cyberspace
shivered
,
blurred
,
gelled
.
The
Eastern
Seaboard
Fission
Authority
was
gone
,
replaced
by
the
cool
geometric
intricacy
of
Zurich
commercial
banking
.
He
punched
again
,
for
Berne
.
'
Up
,
’
the
construct
said
.
'
It
’
ll
be
high
.
’
They
ascended
lattices
of
light
,
levels
strobing
,
a
blue
flicker
.
That
’
ll
be
it
,
Case
thought
.
Wintermute
was
a
simple
cube
of
white
light
,
that
very
simplicity
suggesting
extreme
complexity
.
'
Don
’
t
look
much
,
does
it
?
’
the
Flatline
said
.
'
But
just
you
try
and
touch
it
.
’
'
I
’
m
going
in
for
a
pass
,
Dixie
.
’
'
Be
my
guest
.
’
Case
punched
to
within
four
grid
points
of
the
cube
.
Its
blank
face
,
towering
above
him
now
,
began
to
seethe
with
faint
internal
shadows
,
as
though
a
thousand
dancers
whirled
behind
a
vast
sheet
of
frosted
glass
.
