"William Gibson & Michael Swanwick - Dogfight" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gibson William)

There was a folded instruction sheet with diagrams of loops, rolls, and Immelmanns, a tube of
saline paste, aDd a computer list of operational specs. And the wafer itself, white plastic with a
blue biplane and logo on one side, red on the other. He turned it over and over in his hand:
SPADS&FOKKERS, FOKKERS&SPADS. Red or blue. `He fitted the Batang behind his ear after coating the
inductor surface with paste, jacked its fiberoptic ribbon into the programmer, and plugged the
programmer into the wall current. Then he slid the wafer into the programmer. It was a cheap set,
Indonesian, and the base of his skull buzzed uncomfortably as the program ran. But when it was
done, a sky-blue Spad darted restlessly through the air a few inches from his face. It almost
glowed, it was so real. It had the strange inner life that fanatically detailed museum-grade
models often have, but it took all of his concentration to keep it in existence. If his attention
wavered at all, it lost focus, fuzzing into a pathetic blur.

He practiced until the battery in the earset died, then slumped against the wall and fell asleep.
He dreamed of flying, in a universe that consisted entirely of white clouds and blue sky, with no
up and down, and never a green field to crash into.


He woke to a rancid smell of frying krillcakes and winced with hunger. No cash, either. Well,
there were plenty of student types in the stack. Bound to be one who'd like to score a programming
unit. He hit the hall with the boosted spare. Not far down was a door with a poster on it: THERE'S
A HELL OF A GOOD UNIVERSE NEXT DOOR. Under that was a starscape with a cluster of multicolored
pills, torn from an ad for some pharmaceutical company, pasted over an inspirational shot of the
"space colony" that had been under construction since before he was born. LET'S GO, the poster
said, beneath the collaged hypnotics.

He knocked. The door opened, security slides stopping it at a two-inch slice of girlface. "Yeah?"

"You're going to think this is stolen." He passed the programmer from hand to hand. "I mean
because it's new, virtual cherry, and the bar code's still on it. But listen, I'm not gonna argue
the point. No. I'm gonna let you have it for only like half what you'd pay anywhere else."

"Hey, wow, really, no kidding?" The visible fraction of mouth twisted into a strange smile. She
extended her hand, palm up, a loose fist. Level with his chin. "Lookahere!"


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There was a hole in her hand, a black tunnel that ran right up her arm. Two small red lights.
Rat's eyes. They scurried toward him growing, gleaming. Something gray streaked forward and leaped
for his face.

He screamed, throwing hands up to ward it off. Legs twisting, he fell, the programmer shattering
under him.

Silicate shards skittered as he thrashed, clutching his head. Where it hurt, it hurt it hurt very
badly indeed.

"Oh, my God!" Slides unsnapped, and the girl was hovering over him. "Here, listen, come on." She