"Wil McCarthy - Murder In The Solid State" - читать интересную книгу автора (McCarty Sarah)

First mass market edition: November 1998
Printed in the United States of America 0987654321
This book is dedicated to the memory of artist and teacher Evelyn B. Higginbottom, who remains a lady even now.




ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like to thank Shawna McCarthy, Amy Stout, Walter Jon Williams, and especially David Hartwell
for suffering through early drafts and helping to shape this novel into its current form. For technical
assistance, I am deeply indebted to the following people: In the field of nanotechnology, K. Eric Drexler, J.
Storrs Hall, and all the regulars on sci.nanotech. In the area of law enforcement and courtroom procedure,
J. Michael Schell and Donald Polk. In the martial arts, Gaku Homma Sensei and Michael Fuhriman of
Aikido Nippon Kan and Sherry Woodruff of the Cheyenne Fencing Society.
A number of other people are also very much in need of thanks. For character inspiration and notes on
acade-mia: Richard M. Powers and Gary Snyder. For clearing the path for me in large ways and small:
Charles C. Ryan, Dorothy Taylor, Ed Bryant, Rose Beetem, Doug and Tomi Lewis, Karen Haber, Robert
Silverberg,
Richard Gilliam, Al and Penny Tegen, and Bruce Holland Rogers, all of whom believed in me on the very
flimsiest of evidence. For musical inspiration: Enya, Phil Collins, David Crosby, Lemon Interrupt, and
Antonio Vivaldi. Literary influences are too numerous to mention, but I would like to extend special thanks
to Vernor Vinge, John Stith, and Walter Jon Williams for showing how it ought to be done. For moral and
logistical support: my parents, Michael and Evalyn McCarthy, and especially my wife, Cathy, who puts up
with an awful lot.




When tyrants tremble in their fear
and hear their death-knell ringing,
when friends rejoice both far
and near how can I keep from singing?

In prison cell and dungeon vile
our thoughts to them are winging,
when friends by shame are undefiled
how can I keep from singing?
—Anne Warner, 1864




CHAPTER ONE
It was the sort of night in which careers were built or broken, in which connections were made that,
with the ponderous inexorability of scientific advancement, would alter the course of human affairs. It was
the sort of night David Sahger would kill for. The hum of the elevator seemed to echo his own nervous
energy, his anticipation of the reception that waited below.
A bunch of old farts puffing and posturing at each other, Marian had warned when he'd tried to
invite her along. My theory is better than your theory, blah, blah, blah. She'd spoken in the deep
mock-masculine tone she reserved for satirizing academics in general and, when she felt he needed it,