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'
Get
what
you
went
for
?
’
the
construct
asked
.
Kuang
Grade
Mark
Eleven
was
filling
the
grid
between
itself
and
the
T
-
A
ice
with
hypnotically
intricate
traceries
of
rainbow
,
lattices
fine
as
snow
crystal
on
a
winter
window
.
'
Wintermute
killed
Armitage
.
Blew
him
out
in
a
lifeboat
with
a
hatch
open
.
’
'
Tough
shit
,
’
the
Flatline
said
.
'
Weren
’
t
exactly
asshole
buddies
,
were
you
?
’
'
He
knew
how
to
unbond
the
toxin
sacs
.
’
'
So
Wintermute
knows
too
.
Count
on
it
.
’
'
I
don
’
t
exactly
trust
Wintermute
to
give
it
to
me
.
’
The
construct
’
s
hideous
approximation
of
laughter
scraped
Case
’
s
nerves
like
a
dull
blade
.
'
Maybe
that
means
you
’
re
gettin
’
smart
.
’
He
hit
the
simstim
switch
.
06
:
27
:
52
by
the
chip
in
her
optic
nerve
;
Case
had
been
following
her
progress
through
Villa
Straylight
for
over
an
hour
,
letting
the
endorphin
analog
she
’
d
taken
blot
out
his
hangover
.
The
pain
in
her
leg
was
gone
;
she
seemed
to
move
through
a
warm
bath
.
The
Braun
drone
was
perched
on
her
shoulder
,
its
tiny
manipulators
,
like
padded
surgical
clips
,
secure
in
the
polycarbon
of
the
Modern
suit
.
