"Нейл Стефенсон. Snow Crash (Снежная лавина, англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автораbicycle messenger, but a hundred times more irritating because they don't
pedal under their own power-They just latch on and slow you down. Naturally. The Deliverator was in a hurry, flashing his-lights, squealing his contact patches. The fastest thing on the road. Naturally, the Kourier would choose him to latch onto. No need to get rattled. With the shortcut through TMAWH, he will have plenty of time. He passes a slower car in the middle lane, then cuts right in front of him. The Kourier will have to unpoon or else be slammed sideways into the slower vehicle. Done. The Kourier isn't ten feet behind him anymore-he is right there, peering in the rear window. Anticipating the maneuver, the Kourier reeled in his cord, which is attached to a handle with a power reel in it, and is now right on top of the pizza SNOW CRASH 14 mobile, the front wheel of his skateboard actually underneath the Deliverator's rear bumper. An orange-and-blue-gloved hand reaches forward, a transparent sheet of plastic draped over it, and slaps his driver's side window. The Deliverator has just been stickered. The sticker is a foot across and reads, in big orange block letters, printed backward so that he can read it from the inside. THAT WAS STALE jam the brakes, let traffic clear, cut across the curb lane to enter the Burbclave. The border post is well lighted, the customs agents ready to frisk all comers-cavity-search them if they are the wrong kind of people-but the gate flies open as if by magic as the security system senses that this isa CosaNostra Pizza vehicle, just making a delivery, sir. And as he goes through, the Kourier-that tick on his as9-waves to the border policel What a prick! Like he comes in here all the time! He probably does come in here all the time. Picking up important shit for important TMAWH people, delivering it to other FOQNEs, Franchise-Organized Quasi-National Entities, getting it through customs. That's what Kouriers do. Still. He's going too slow, lost all his momentum, his timing is off. Where's the Kourier? Ah, reeled out some line, is following behind again. The Deliverator knows that this jerk is in for a big surprise. Can he stay on his fucking skateboard while he's being hauled over the flattened remains of some kid's plastic tricycle at a hundred kilometers? We're going to find out. The Kourier leans back-.the Deiverator can't help watching in the rearvjew-leans back like a water skier, pushes off against his board, and swings around beside him, now traveling abreast with him up Heritage Boulevard and slap another sticker goes up, this one on the windshield! It says SMOOTH MOVE, EX-LAX |
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