-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Уильям Гибсон
-
- Нейромант
-
- Стр. 48/285
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Four
square
walls
of
blank
white
plastic
,
ceiling
to
match
,
floored
with
white
hospital
tile
molded
in
a
nonslip
pattern
of
small
raised
disks
.
In
the
center
stood
a
square
,
white
-
painted
wooden
table
and
four
white
folding
chairs
.
The
man
who
stood
blinking
now
in
the
doorway
behind
them
,
the
blanket
draping
one
shoulder
like
a
cape
,
seemed
to
have
been
designed
in
a
wind
tunnel
.
His
ears
were
very
small
,
plastered
flat
against
his
narrow
skull
,
and
his
large
front
teeth
,
revealed
in
something
that
wasn
’
t
quite
a
smile
,
were
canted
sharply
backward
.
He
wore
an
ancient
tweed
jacket
and
held
a
handgun
of
some
kind
in
his
left
hand
.
He
peered
at
them
,
blinked
,
and
dropped
the
gun
into
a
jacket
pocket
.
He
gestured
to
Case
,
pointed
at
a
slab
of
white
plastic
that
leaned
near
the
doorway
.
Case
crossed
to
it
and
saw
that
it
was
a
solid
sandwich
of
circuitry
,
nearly
a
centimeter
thick
.
He
helped
the
man
lift
it
and
position
it
in
the
doorway
.
Quick
,
nicotine
-
stained
fingers
secured
it
with
a
white
velcro
border
.
A
hidden
exhaust
fan
began
to
purr
.
'
Time
,
’
the
man
said
,
straightening
up
,
'
and
counting
.
You
know
the
rate
,
Moll
.
’
'
We
need
a
scan
,
Finn
.
For
implants
.
’
'
So
get
over
there
between
the
pylons
.
Stand
on
the
tape
.
Straighten
up
,
yeah
.
Now
turn
around
,
gimme
a
full
threesixty
.
’
Case
watched
her
rotate
between
two
fragile
-
looking
stands
studded
with
sensors
.
The
man
took
a
small
monitor
from
his
pocket
and
squinted
at
it
.
'
Something
new
in
your
head
,
yeah
.
Silicon
,
coat
of
pyrolitic
carbons
.
A
clock
,
right
?
Your
glasses
gimme
the
read
they
always
have
,
low
-
temp
isotropic
carbons
.
Better
biocompatibility
with
pyrolitics
,
but
that
’
s
your
business
,
right
?
Same
with
your
claws
.
’
'
Get
over
here
,
Case
.
’
He
saw
a
scuffed
X
in
black
on
the
white
floor
.
'
Turn
around
.
Slow
.
’
'
Guy
’
s
a
virgin
.
’
The
man
shrugged
.
'
Some
cheap
dental
work
,
is
all
.
’
'
You
read
for
biologicals
?
’
Molly
unzipped
her
green
vest
and
took
off
the
dark
glasses
.
'
You
think
this
is
the
Mayo
?
Climb
on
the
table
,
kid
,
we
’
ll
run
a
little
biopsy
.
’
He
laughed
,
showing
more
of
his
yellow
teeth
.
'
Nah
.
Finn
’
s
word
,
sweetmeat
,
you
got
no
little
bugs
,
no
cortex
bombs
.
You
want
me
to
shut
the
screen
down
?
’
