"FWLS25" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See) It's been about five minutes since the explosion... one
minute to make the explosion occur... *Six minutes ago, local time.* *Done. Battery life drained.* The voice died away, and the little screen blinked out. I pocketed the thing. Now, if I'm right, I survived the blast due to immortality, and that weirdo in the green suit wouldn't be coming back. I've made it through, lived, and came out quite well in the end. * I was sitting a balcony of the third skyspire overlooking what used to be my home city. Not that we lived on the ground anymore, we hadn't for the last thousand years. Immortality! WHAT WAS I THINKING? Ugh, when it's not annoying, it's boring. When it's not boring, it's annoying. I fingered the long-dead, rusted and stained palmtop computer in my hand while chugging down some drink of unknown origin. I fought off a few dozen mental PSI conversations I had started looking for a battery for the damn thing, and just sat there, bored. ten years once before someone came into the apartment, thinking the previous owner was dead. I'd chase them away with a stick, then mope a bit. On the whole, it hasn't been the best of existences. "You, you damn little overgrown pocket calculator," I growled drunkenly at the palmtop, "Have ruined my life." I took the thousand year old thing and threw it as far as I possibly could off of the balcony. It fell, a small sparkly dot, thousands of feet, bouncing off the spires on its way down. *error* pensed the far-off voice of the palmtop. I almost didn't recognize it, that's how long it's been. *unit destroyed - notifying company* "What?" I yelled to the wind, vocal cords painfully stretching, as all my conversations for the last four years were done by PSI. "WHAT?" "Hello again," said a voice behind me. Long-atrophied muscles screamed to life as I bent out of my chair to look behind me. |
|
© 2026 Библиотека RealLib.org
(support [a t] reallib.org) |