"Charles Stross - Escape" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stross Charles)

"We need cover," she remarks. "Tracking has gone to shit. Some kind of antibody system --" She blinks
me a map, hollow worms wriggling with spidery drones scattered through them, red blotches indicating
danger. "Can you send back-up? We have a pipeline to lay."

"I'll try," I whisper, thinking damn, my commitments; I know I'm needed elsewhere, but ...

The map is clear. Nineteen purple drones are present. I check a route, swap channels: "Janec, you're
needed back up second on your left. Scatter sounders behind you and move it!"

"Ah shit. Urgent?"

"No," I mutter. "Just two friends are going to get zapped if you don't hurry."

"Ack." He gets the point; his blip begins to move. The tunnel he leaves is marinated in an amber glow,
security downgraded.

"What's your interface preference?" I ask Parveen. "What you found?"

"Nexus. Looks pretty standard when you get down to the ultrastructure. There's some kind of fat pipe
buried under the nanojunk. A standard high-bandwidth artery. I'm going to burn the surface and patch
in."

"What with? The drill?"

"No," she mutters. "Going to use the laser on low-power, shortest wavelength. It'll cut cold." Mirrors stir
and uncoil in a long chain of flashing brightness from her dorsal surface; a targeting display flickers across
the wall.

"Raisa," she calls, "I don't have the protocol. You ready for download?"

Raisa sounds preoccupied. "There's a lot of it: it'll blank you for a few seconds --"

"Do it!" Lorma exclaims.

For a moment I feel very strange: then all senses are out to lunch. Only heartbeat remains, pulsing an
eternal mantra in black silence. What's going on? I wonder, just this side of instant panic. Some kind of
total bandwidth signal? Shit! I didn't realise it would be this demanding --

I see stars. The gunsight has changed, providing depth read-outs. I can see ultrastructure, eyes zooming
into coiled distance, the blue lucent flare of pseudocrystals refracting laser light. "You have control," Raisa
intones. "Ready to go ahead?"

"Check," say Parveen. I watch, fascinated. "Drilling ... now." A violet contrail erupts from the mirrors; an
ionisation path from the laser beam. Thin smoke trickles from the spot on the wall. Lorma shuffles
nervously, extending and retracting her weapons in a jerky, rhythmic fidgeting.

"Warning," Raisa adds. "I've got two opposition candidates plotted, approaching now. They're about
three minutes away, coming from your end Lorma." I back out, checking status. The red haze of danger
is spreading, chambers coming alive with death-awareness.