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'
Bang
on
.
Killer
virus
.
’
'
Okay
.
Got
some
snags
,
but
we
’
re
working
on
it
.
’
'
You
wanna
tell
me
,
maybe
?
’
'
Don
’
t
have
time
.
’
'
Well
,
boy
,
never
mind
me
,
I
’
m
just
dead
anyway
.
’
'
Fuck
off
,
’
Case
said
,
and
flipped
,
cutting
off
the
torn
fingernail
edge
of
the
Flatline
’
s
laughter
.
'
She
dreamed
of
a
state
involving
very
little
in
the
way
of
individual
consciousness
,
’
3Jane
was
saying
.
She
cupped
a
large
cameo
in
her
hand
,
extending
it
toward
Molly
.
The
carved
profile
was
very
much
like
her
own
.
'
Animal
bliss
.
I
think
she
viewed
the
evolution
of
the
forebrain
as
a
sort
of
sidestep
.
’
She
withdrew
the
brooch
and
studied
it
,
tilting
it
to
catch
the
light
at
different
angles
.
'
Only
in
certain
heightened
modes
would
an
individual
-
a
clan
member
-
suffer
the
more
painful
aspects
of
self
-
awareness
.
.
.
’
Molly
nodded
.
Case
remembered
the
injection
.
What
had
they
given
her
?
The
pain
was
still
there
,
but
it
came
through
as
a
tight
focus
of
scrambled
impressions
.
Neon
worms
writhing
in
her
thigh
,
the
touch
of
burlap
,
smell
of
frying
krill
-
his
mind
recoiled
from
it
.
If
he
avoided
focusing
on
it
,
the
impressions
overlapped
,
became
a
sensory
equivalent
of
white
noise
.
If
it
could
do
that
to
her
nervous
system
,
what
would
her
frame
of
mind
be
?
Her
vision
was
abnormally
clear
and
bright
,
even
sharper
than
usual
.
Things
seemed
to
vibrate
,
each
person
or
object
tuned
to
a
minutely
different
frequency
.
Her
hands
,
still
locked
in
the
black
ball
,
were
on
her
lap
.
She
sat
in
one
of
the
pool
chairs
,
her
broken
leg
propped
straight
in
front
of
her
on
a
camelskin
hassock
.
3Jane
sat
opposite
,
on
another
hassock
,
huddled
in
an
oversized
djellaba
of
unbleached
wool
.
She
was
very
young
.
