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- Уильям Гибсон
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'
I
know
you
,
’
Case
said
,
Linda
beside
him
.
'
No
,
’
the
boy
said
,
his
voice
high
and
musical
,
'
you
do
not
.
’
'
You
’
re
the
other
AI
.
You
’
re
Rio
.
You
’
re
the
one
who
wants
to
stop
Wintermute
.
What
’
s
your
name
?
Your
Turing
code
.
What
is
it
?
’
The
boy
did
a
handstand
in
the
surf
,
laughing
.
He
walked
on
his
hands
,
then
flipped
out
of
the
water
.
His
eyes
were
Riviera
’
s
,
but
there
was
no
malice
there
.
'
To
call
up
a
demon
you
must
learn
its
name
.
Men
dreamed
that
,
once
,
but
now
it
is
real
in
another
way
.
You
know
that
,
Case
.
Your
business
is
to
learn
the
names
of
programs
,
the
long
formal
names
,
names
the
owners
seek
to
conceal
.
True
names
.
.
.
’
'
A
Turing
code
’
s
not
your
name
.
’
'
Neuromancer
,
’
the
boy
said
,
slitting
long
gray
eyes
against
the
rising
sun
.
'
The
lane
to
the
land
of
the
dead
.
Where
you
are
,
my
friend
.
Marie
-
France
,
my
lady
,
she
prepared
this
road
,
but
her
lord
choked
her
off
before
I
could
read
the
book
of
her
days
.
Neuro
from
the
nerves
,
the
silver
paths
.
Romancer
.
Necromancer
.
I
call
up
the
dead
.
But
no
,
my
friend
,
’
and
the
boy
did
a
little
dance
,
brown
feet
printing
the
sand
,
'
I
amthe
dead
,
and
their
land
.
’
He
laughed
.
A
gull
cried
.
'
Stay
.
If
your
woman
is
a
ghost
,
she
doesn
’
t
know
it
.
Neither
will
you
.
’
'
You
’
re
cracking
.
The
ice
is
breaking
up
.
’
'
No
,
’
he
said
,
suddenly
sad
,
his
fragile
shoulders
sagging
.
He
rubbed
his
foot
against
the
sand
.
'
It
is
more
simple
than
that
.
But
the
choice
is
yours
.
’
The
gray
eyes
regarded
Case
gravely
.
A
fresh
wave
of
symbols
swept
across
his
vision
,
one
line
at
a
time
.
Behind
them
,
the
boy
wriggled
,
as
though
seen
through
heat
rising
from
summer
asphalt
.
The
music
was
loud
now
,
and
Case
could
almost
make
out
the
lyrics
.
'
Case
,
honey
,
’
Linda
said
,
and
touched
his
shoulder
.
