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- Уильям Гибсон
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'
Christ
,
’
Molly
said
.
'
Rat
in
a
business
suit
.
’
They
crossed
the
lobby
.
'
How
much
you
get
paid
to
come
over
here
,
Finn
?
’
She
lowered
her
bag
beside
the
armchair
.
'
Bet
not
as
much
as
you
get
for
wearing
that
suit
,
huh
?
’
The
Finn
’
s
upper
lips
drew
back
.
'
Not
enough
,
sweetmeat
.
’
He
handed
her
a
magnetic
key
with
a
round
yellow
tag
.
'
You
’
re
registered
already
.
Honcho
’
s
upstairs
.
’
He
looked
around
.
'
This
town
sucks
.
’
'
You
get
agoraphobic
,
they
take
you
out
from
under
a
dome
.
Just
pretend
it
’
s
Brooklyn
or
something
.
’
She
twirled
the
key
around
a
finger
.
'
You
here
as
valet
or
what
?
’
'
I
gotta
check
out
some
guy
’
s
implants
,
’
the
Finn
said
.
'
How
about
my
deck
?
’
Case
asked
.
The
Finn
winced
.
'
Observe
the
protocol
.
Ask
the
boss
.
’
Molly
’
s
fingers
moved
in
the
shadow
of
her
jacket
,
a
flicker
of
jive
.
The
Finn
watched
,
then
nodded
.
