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'
Take
it
,
’
Case
said
.
'
You
’
re
faster
.
’
'
Now
your
best
de
–
fense
,
boy
,
it
’
s
a
good
off
–
fense
.
’
And
the
Flatline
aligned
the
nose
of
Kuang
’
s
sting
with
the
center
of
the
dark
below
.
And
dove
.
Case
’
s
sensory
input
warped
with
their
velocity
.
His
mouth
filled
with
an
aching
taste
of
blue
.
His
eyes
were
eggs
of
unstable
crystal
,
vibrating
with
a
frequency
whose
name
was
rain
and
the
sound
of
trains
,
suddenly
sprouting
a
humming
forest
of
hair
-
fine
glass
spines
.
The
spines
split
,
bisected
,
split
again
,
exponential
growth
under
the
dome
of
the
Tessier
-
Ashpool
ice
.
The
roof
of
his
mouth
cleaved
painlessly
,
admitting
rootlets
that
whipped
around
his
tongue
,
hungry
for
the
taste
of
blue
,
to
feed
the
crystal
forests
of
his
eyes
,
forests
that
pressed
against
the
green
dome
,
pressed
and
were
hindered
,
and
spread
,
growing
down
,
filling
the
universe
of
T
-
A
,
down
into
the
waiting
,
hapless
suburbs
of
the
city
that
was
the
mind
of
Tessier
Ashpool
S
.
A
.
And
he
was
remembering
an
ancient
story
,
a
king
placing
coins
on
a
chessboard
,
doubling
the
amount
at
each
square
.
.
.
Exponential
.
.
.
