"FWLS50" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See)

out of here."

*

We had a pattern for mallgoing. The mall was set out in a
perfect pattern; if you skipped every five stores, you'd hit our
favorite eating establishment, a store I was interested in, one
Mitch was interested in, one Benton was interested in, and a
loosened access panel that would let us reprogram the elevator
music they normally pumped in here.

We had to park on the south side of the mall this time,
presenting us with the access panel first. So we ended up
skipping along to Benton's favorite shop while Generic Evil
Sounding Band screamed away over the loudspeakers.

"Man, I can see the shoppers having a fit over this one,"
Mitch smirked. "Not often you get to peruse apparel and sporting
goods while the speakers tell you to braise your housepets for
Satan."

"I still say pan flute music, bass turned down and treble up
would have been worse," I grumbled. Mitch always got his way
when we were picking tricks to play on the mall.

"Whoa. Target at two o'clock and gaining," Mitch said,
craning his neck to see over the crowd. "Isn't that Shelly,
leader of the debate club?"

I peered over the heads of the shoppers. "Yeah, I think."

Mitch slipped into The Grin. The Grin is the grin of his
Mr. Romantic mode, homing in on potential date material. I had
seen the grin plenty of times; usually it meant Mitch wouldn't be
needing a ride home with us that day, unless he was especially
corny and the girl dumped him there and then instead of two days
later.

"I'd love to argue the finer points of government control
and AI rights with her," Mitch lied. "I'll be right back, guys.
Don't wait up."

Mitch slithered into the crowd, blending in and phasing out
of sight.

"I claim the front seat," Benton confirmed. "Ah! We're
here. Coming in?"

"Naah," I said. "I've already got enough reading material.
I need a seat anyway. I'll be here when you come out."