"Kristine Kathryn Rusch - Coolhunting" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rusch Kristine Kathryn)

"Big people shoes," Steffie murmured. She didn't want to think about
KD. She leaned back, put an arm over her eyes, and let herself drift. This was
as good a place to flop as any. Besides, she needed the rest.
****
It was dark when Leo woke her. He was wearing a personal light on each
shoulder. They illuminated his face and a small circular area around him. The
couch, the stained wood floor, and part of a ripped rug stood out in sharp
relief.
He was holding the chip case between his thumb and forefinger -- a good
sign.
"It performs an instant download from a prearranged site," he said. "It
forces the computer it's in to go to that site, and remain there until the
download's complete. Theoretically, the site is rigged so that only the people
who can answer certain questions can get it, but I circumvented it. The site's
computer is in Nebraska. It links to a system in Kansas City, then links to
another system in Austin. All checked out clean. No traps. And no real traps
built into this thing except the instant download."
"Which someone could trace to my system."
"In a nanosecond," he said. His grin increased. "But not to mine."
She took the chip from him. "You got something like that for me?"
"I thought you'd never ask," he said. Then his smile disappeared.
"Although I don't know why you'd want to. The site is your basic family crap.
Genealogies, old photographs, histories, loss of former holdings, that sort of
thing."
She rubbed the sleep off her face, hoping to keep any fleeting
expression from him. "That's okay," she said.
"Your family?" he asked.
"I doubt it," she said. "Just some weirdness with my work."
"You sure, babe?" and this time his voice held concern. "I wouldn't
want to give you something that'll get you in trouble. Of any kind."
 "You found more trouble on there?"
He shook his head. "But folks don't normally bring this kinda stuff to
me, you know? They bring me -- " he paused, as if considering his words " --
well, you know, stuff I would expect. Illegals, traps, listings no one should
see. Not something this tame."
"And that scares you?" she asked.
"Different. Anything different. It's not good, you know."
She smiled. "Actually," she said. "I thrive on different."
****
The equipment weighed her down. She was used to a palmtop, some plastic and
nothing more. Leo gave her a laptop the size of a purse and told her to dump
it when she was done.
She took an aircab to Chinatown, found a basement restaurant where no
one seemed to speak English, and took a booth in the back. The decor was as
old as the stuff in Leo's apartment. If it weren't for the singletops for sale
at the front desk, the tiny access ports built into the centers of the tables,
and the program-it-yourself wall displays beside each booth she'd have thought
she'd entered some old flat black-and-white.
The lighting was dim, the booth ripped, and the soy sauce bottle so old
that the red words were scraped off the glass. She ordered by pointing to