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- Уильям Гибсон
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'
I
have
some
work
for
some
of
your
friends
,
Larry
.
’
Larry
took
a
flat
plastic
case
from
the
pocket
of
his
red
sportshirt
and
flicked
it
open
,
slotting
the
microsoft
beside
a
dozen
others
.
His
hand
hovered
,
selected
a
glossy
black
chip
that
was
slightly
longer
than
the
rest
,
and
inserted
it
smoothly
into
his
head
.
His
eyes
narrowed
.
'
Molly
’
s
got
a
rider
,
’
he
said
,
'
and
Larry
doesn
’
t
like
that
.
’
'
Hey
,
’
she
said
,
'
I
didn
’
t
know
you
were
so
.
.
.
sensitive
.
I
’
m
impressed
.
Costs
a
lot
,
to
get
that
sensitive
.
’
'
I
know
you
,
lady
?
’
The
blank
look
returned
.
'
You
looking
to
buy
some
softs
?
’
'
I
’
m
looking
for
the
Moderns
.
’
'
You
got
a
rider
,
Molly
.
This
says
.
’
He
tapped
the
black
splinter
.
'
Somebody
else
using
your
eyes
.
’
'
My
partner
.
’
'
Tell
your
partner
to
go
.
’
'
Got
something
for
the
Panther
Moderns
,
Larry
.
’
