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- Уильям Гибсон
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She
selected
three
and
thumbed
them
hard
against
her
left
wrist
,
over
the
veins
.
Six
thousand
micrograms
of
endorphin
analog
came
down
on
the
pain
like
a
hammer
,
shattering
it
.
Her
back
arched
convulsively
.
Pink
waves
of
warmth
lapped
up
her
thighs
.
She
sighed
and
slowly
relaxed
.
'
Okay
,
Brood
.
Okay
now
.
But
I
’
ll
need
a
medical
team
when
I
come
out
.
Tell
my
people
.
Cutter
,
I
’
m
two
minutes
from
target
.
Can
you
hold
?
’
'
Tell
her
I
’
m
in
and
holding
,
’
Case
said
.
Molly
began
to
limp
down
the
corridor
.
When
she
glanced
back
,
once
,
Case
saw
the
crumpled
bodies
of
three
Sense
/
Net
security
guards
.
One
of
them
seemed
to
have
no
eyes
.
'
Tacticals
and
Rapids
have
sealed
the
ground
floor
,
Cat
Mother
.
Foam
barricades
.
Lobby
’
s
getting
juicy
.
’
'
Pretty
juicy
down
here
,
’
she
said
,
swinging
herself
through
a
pair
of
gray
steel
doors
.
'
Almost
there
,
Cutter
.
’
Case
flipped
into
the
matrix
and
pulled
the
trodes
from
his
forehead
.
He
was
drenched
with
sweat
.
He
wiped
his
forehead
with
a
towel
,
took
a
quick
sip
of
water
from
the
bicycle
bottle
beside
the
Hosaka
,
and
checked
the
map
of
the
library
displayed
on
the
screen
.
A
pulsing
red
cursor
crept
through
the
outline
of
a
doorway
.
Only
millimeters
from
the
green
dot
that
indicated
the
location
of
the
Dixie
Flatline
’
s
construct
.
He
wondered
what
it
was
doing
to
her
leg
,
to
walk
on
it
that
way
.
With
enough
endorphin
analog
,
she
could
walk
on
a
pair
of
bloody
stumps
.
He
tightened
the
nylon
harness
that
held
him
in
the
chair
and
replaced
the
trodes
.
Routine
now
:
trodes
,
jack
,
and
flip
.
The
Sense
/
Net
research
library
was
a
dead
storage
area
;
the
materials
stored
here
had
to
be
physically
removed
before
they
could
be
interfaced
.
Molly
hobbled
between
rows
of
identical
gray
lockers
.
