"Big U, The" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stephenson Neal)

time," recalled another, a skinny, long-haired, furtive fellow who
was having trouble tracking the conversation, "but she took a
sixteen-ounce ball-peen hammer and smashed his hand with it. He
never came back." He delivered the last sentence like the punchline
to a Reader's Digest true anecdote, convulsing his pals with
laughter.
The third, a disturbingly 35-ish looking computer science major
with tightly permed blond hair, eventually calmed down enough to
ask, "Hey, Gary, Gary! Did she use the ball end or the peen end?"
Gary was irked and confused, He had hoped to impress them by
specif~ring the weight of the hammer, but he was stumped by this
piece of one-upsmanship; he didn't know which end was which. He
radiated embarrassment for several seconds before saying, "Oh, gee,
I don't know, I think she probably used both of 'em before she was
done with the guy. But that guy never came back."
Their fun was cut short by a commanding voice. "A sixteen-
ounce ball-peen hammer isn't much good against a firearm. If I were
a woman living alone I'd carry a point thirty-eight revolver,
minimum. Double action. Effective enough for most purposes."
The startling newcomer had their surprised attention. He had
stopped quite close to them and was surveying the door, and they
instinctively stepped out of his way. He was tall, thin and pale, with
thin brown Bryicreemed hair and dark red lips. The calculator on his
hip was the finest personal computing machine, and on the other hip,
from a loop of leather, hung a fencing foil, balanced so that its red
plastic tip hung an inch above the floor. It was Fred Fine.
"You're the guy who runs the Wargames Club, aren't you,"
asked the blond student.
"I am Games Marshall, if that's the intent of your question.
Administrative and financial authority are distributed among the
leadership cadre according to the Constitution."
"The Wargames Club?" asked Gary, his voice suffused with
hope. "What, is there one?"
"The correct title is the Megaversity Association for Reen-
actments and Simulations, or MARS," snapped Fred Fine. Still
almost breathless, Gary said, "Say. Do you guys ever play 'Tactical
Nuclear War in Greenland?'"
Fred Fine stared just over Gary's head, screwing up his face
tremendously and humming. "Is that the earlier version of 'Martians
in Godthaab,' "he finally asked, though his tone indicated that he
already knew the answer.
Gary was hopelessly taken aback, and looked around a bit
before allowing his gaze to rest on Fred Fine's calculator. "Oh, yeah,
I guess. I guess 'Martians in Godthaab' must be new."
"No," said Fred Fine clearly, "it came out six months ago." To
soften the humiliation he chucked Gary on the shoulder. "But to
answer your question. Some of our plebes—our novice wargamers—
do enjoy that game. It's interesting in its own way, I suppose, though
I've only played it a dozen times. Of course, it's a Simuconflict
product, and their games have left a lot to be desired since they lost