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- Уильям Гибсон
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'
Sure
.
But
you
watch
your
ass
,
Case
.
My
,
ah
,
other
lobe
is
on
to
us
,
it
looks
like
.
One
burning
bush
looks
pretty
much
like
another
.
And
Armitage
is
starting
to
go
.
’
'
What
’
s
that
mean
?
’
But
the
paneled
room
folded
itself
through
a
dozen
impossible
angles
,
tumbling
away
into
cyberspace
like
an
origami
crane
.
'
You
tryin
’
to
break
my
record
,
son
?
’
the
Flatline
asked
.
'
You
were
braindead
again
,
five
seconds
.
’
'
Sit
tight
,
’
Case
said
,
and
hit
the
simstim
switch
.
She
crouched
in
darkness
,
her
palms
against
rough
concrete
.
CASE
CASE
CASE
CASE
.
The
digital
display
pulsed
his
name
in
alphanumerics
,
Wintermute
informing
her
of
the
link
.
'
Cute
,
’
she
said
.
She
rocked
back
on
her
heels
and
rubbed
her
palms
together
,
cracked
her
knuckles
.
'
What
kept
you
?
’
TIME
MOLLY
TIME
NOW
.
She
pressed
her
tongue
hard
against
her
lower
front
teeth
.
One
moved
slightly
,
activating
her
microchannel
amps
;
the
random
bounce
of
photons
through
the
darkness
was
converted
to
a
pulse
of
electrons
,
the
concrete
around
her
coming
up
ghost
-
pale
and
grainy
.
'
Okay
,
honey
.
Now
we
go
out
to
play
.
’
