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- Уильям Гибсон
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- Стр. 284/285
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And
then
the
screen
was
blank
.
He
left
the
vodka
on
the
cabinet
.
He
packed
his
things
.
She
’
d
bought
him
a
lot
of
clothes
he
didn
’
t
really
need
,
but
something
kept
him
from
just
leaving
them
there
.
He
was
closing
the
last
of
the
expensive
calfskin
bags
when
he
remembered
the
shuriken
.
Pushing
the
flask
aside
,
he
picked
it
up
,
her
first
gift
.
'
No
,
’
he
said
,
and
spun
,
the
star
leaving
his
fingers
,
flash
of
silver
,
to
bury
itself
in
the
face
of
the
wall
screen
.
The
screen
woke
,
random
patterns
flickering
feebly
from
side
to
side
,
as
though
it
were
trying
to
rid
itself
of
something
that
caused
it
pain
.
'
I
don
’
t
need
you
,
’
he
said
.
He
spent
the
bulk
of
his
Swiss
account
on
a
new
pancreas
and
liver
,
the
rest
on
a
new
Ono
-
Sendai
and
a
ticket
back
to
the
Sprawl
.
He
found
work
.
He
found
a
girl
who
called
herself
Michael
.
And
one
October
night
,
punching
himself
past
the
scarlet
tiers
of
the
Eastern
Seaboard
Fission
Authority
,
he
saw
three
figures
,
tiny
,
impossible
,
who
stood
at
the
very
edge
of
one
of
the
vast
steps
of
data
.
Small
as
they
were
,
he
could
make
out
the
boy
’
s
grin
,
his
pink
gums
,
the
glitter
of
the
long
gray
eyes
that
had
been
Riviera
’
s
.
Linda
still
wore
his
jacket
;
she
waved
,
as
he
passed
But
the
third
figure
,
close
behind
her
,
arm
across
her
shoulders
,
was
himself
.
Somewhere
,
very
close
,
the
laugh
that
wasn
’
t
laughter
.
