"FWLS47" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See)

will employ you as a 'point man'... excuse me, woman... you go
out on a few capers and end up brain-dead in a morgue before your
second week. End of career. Fun, wasn't it?"

She didn't reply. Hey, who WOULD?

"Okay, now that you've gotten a glimpse of your destiny,
still want to go through with it? Or am I totally wrong and you
just got dressed up and prepared so you could have a single drink
and leave?"

"You've... you've got it all wrong, pal. I'm the hottest
hot dogger this side of the colony. You don't know who you're
messing with."

"Yes I do, miss Ronni W. Podraza," I said, tapping the gold
label on her credit chip. "And based on the quality of the chip,
I'd guess your parents are multimillionaire types?"

"They aren't THAT rich!" she protested, before realizing she
just confirmed my theory.

"Thought so. Look. I'll be frank. Go home. Be a
debutante or something and forget all about this. I don't think
you really wanna be burned out by age thirty, do you?"

"Forget this, I'll find another bar," she said, pushing her
glass away. I grabbed her arm. (Any normal punk would have
swiftly pulled some implement of death and removed the offending
arm, but as mentioned, this was a newbie, so she was just
Surprised.)

"Hold up," I hissed. "I never said I WOULDN'T let you try
this silly fancy. If you're hell-bent on being a hacker and
dying young, might as well take the quiz."

"A quiz?" she asked.

"I've found it makes my side job as talent scout a hell of a
lot easier," I said, putting down the washcloth and reaching
under the bar. "Here you go. Just circle the right answer. No
cheating, please."

"This is nuts."

"No, this is a test," I said. I grabbed a dish off the bar.
"THESE are nuts. Do you see the difference?"

She grumbled. I figured she'd call me insane and stomp off,
likely go down the death-path they all went on, but instead she