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- Уильям Гибсон
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He
turned
,
cold
slick
glass
in
one
hand
,
steel
of
the
shuriken
in
the
other
.
The
Finn
’
s
face
on
the
room
’
s
enormous
Cray
wall
screen
.
He
could
see
the
pores
in
the
man
’
s
nose
.
The
yellow
teeth
were
the
size
of
pillows
.
'
I
’
m
not
Wintermute
now
.
’
'
So
what
are
you
.
’
He
drank
from
the
flask
,
feeling
nothing
.
'
I
’
m
the
matrix
,
Case
.
’
Case
laughed
.
'
Where
’
s
that
get
you
?
’
'
Nowhere
.
Everywhere
.
I
’
m
the
sum
total
of
the
works
,
the
whole
show
.
’
'
That
what
3Jane
’
s
mother
wanted
?
’
'
No
.
She
couldn
’
t
imagine
what
I
’
d
be
like
.
’
The
yellow
smile
widened
.
'
So
what
’
s
the
score
?
How
are
things
different
?
You
running
the
world
now
?
You
God
?
’
