"Paul Di Filippo - Stink Lines" - читать интересную книгу автора (Di Filippo Paul)

point,Helper?"Li'l Bulb whooshed his hands as if simulating flight. He
gestured in a waveryfashion as if portraying heat-distorted air. He shaped an
obvious balloon abovehis head. He cupped his hands and then exploded them
outward.Gyro scratched his head. "Are you saying I should fly a plane to the
desert andblow something up?"Li'l Bulb slapped his indestructible glass
forehead in frustration, thensnatched paper and pencil from the endtable.
After writing two sharp words, hehanded the paper to his boss."'Special
effects.' Hmmm." Gyro took another look at the comic. In one panel,Donald had
just been drenched in perfume by an irritated Daisy. From his sodden,dejected,
feathered self radiated thick lines indicative of exotic pungency.Gyro shot to
his feet. "Helper, you're worth your weight in EinsteinBosecondensate! Now,
fetch me my hat!"One article of apparel the original Gyro Gearloose was never
seen without washis hat. Some kind of yellow felt porkpie with black band and
upcurved brim, itremained securely atop his brown thatch through whatever
chaos ensued, thanks toa handy elastic string running under his chin.Our Gyro,
no stickler for imitating the appearance of his namesake, went hatlesson a
day-to-day basis. The hat now being dragged across the floor by aresponsive
Li'l Bulb clutching its string, although outwardly identical to theoriginal
model, was in reality a special instrument devised by Gyro, and usedonly on
certain needful occasions. The crown of Gyro's hat was packed withcircuitry
that could interface with his thoughts via electromagnetic conductionand
induction, amplifying them in radical ways and bolstering his
naturalcreativity and genius. However, the device was neurologically
ennervating to acertain degree, and Gyro used it only sparingly. Besides,
somehow the hat feltlike cheating. Even though it was his own invention, he
preferred relying onlyon his unassisted natural brain.If the hat helped him
win Ginger, though, he'd gladly compromise any principlesand sacrifice any
number of gray cells.Li'l Bulb reached Gyro's feet, and wiped imaginary sweat
from his brow. Theinventor bent down to retrieve the hat. Placing it on his
head, he snapped thestring under his chin, thus activating the amplification
effect. Immediately,his face assumed a loopy expression; you fully expected
Gyro's eyes to spin likethe cylinders on a slot machine until they came up all
cherries.In an abstracted voice, Gyro addressed the desk: "Open new spec file
for ournanofab plant, production to begin immediately upon file closure." Gyro
launchedinto a long recitation of abstruse assembly parameters, terminating
theinstruction string with a final "Close." He snapped the chin-string
again,powering off his hat, then removed it. Wearily, he slumped onto the
couch, hatcradled in his lap. Li'l Bulb hopped up beside him."Well, Helper,
would you like to hear what I've just invented?"The automaton shook his head
no."Really? Why not?"Li'l Bulb snatched up his pad and pencil and scribbled a
note."'Legal and ethical deniability.' Oh, come off it! When have I ever
gotten us introuble before?"Holding up his left three-fingered, one-thumbed
hand as if to enumerateoccasions, Li'l Bulb began to count off with his right
index finger. He reachedfive sets of four before Gyro stopped him."Okay, okay,
but this time won't be like those. I've simply adapted an oldtheoretical idea
for my own purposes. Have you ever heard of 'utility fog?'"Li'l Bulb clasped
his head with both hands as if in alarm."What's wrong with utility fog? An
evenly dispersed permanent aerosol ofintelligent nanomachines about as dense
as the air pollution intwentieth-century L.A. An ambient mist that living
creatures can breatheharmlessly. Nothing alarming about that. And utility fog