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

could really behelpful. Say your car was filled with the stuff. You'd never
notice it until yougot in an accident. Then -- instant airbag, as the
invisible machinesprotectively swarm and cohere between you and the
dashboard!"Furiously moving pen across paper, Li'l Bulb finished another
note."'Why hasn't utility fog been marketed before now if it's so wonderful?'
Well,there are all those foolish EPA regulations for one thing .... "Li'l Bulb
began to run in circles on the couch. Without warning he leaped uponto Gyro's
lap and grabbed a handful of Gyro's shirt. Frantically, the smallassistant
began to shake his boss."Helper, stop it! My mind's made up! Nothing's going
to go wrong. I'veprogrammed my utility fog to monitor GPS coordinates and
remain within Duckburgcity limits. And its effects will simply be certain, ah,
visual enhancements.Besides, it's too late now. The assembly instructions
included immediatedispersal of the first few units into the atmosphere, with
self-replicationthereafter."Falling back onto the couch, Li'l Bulb lay on his
back with hands folded incorpse posture across his tubular chest."Oh, what a
melodramatic clown you are, Helper! But by this time tomorrow, whenthe fog
reaches critical mass, you'll see that all your fears are unfounded."Li'l
Bulb's unstirring attitude and fake flickering filament somehow managed
toconvey immense sarcastic doubt.When Gyro awoke the morning after his
Ginger-winning brainstorm he first movedhis arm tentatively, noting nothing
unusual accompanying its passage through theair. Critical mass of utility fog
had plainly not been reached yet. Before hecould perform any further
non-instrumented tests, the bed, sensing his change inconsciousness, launched
him into another day.At the office, all was as before. Gyro dealt with many
matters pertaining to theswelling fortunes of Happy Duck Research, losing
track of time. It was only whenhis secretary knocked on his door, causing a
seated Gyro to look up from variousinteractive displays, that the savant
realized his scheme had borne strangefruit.Each rap on Gyro's door produced an
accompanying visual phenomenon. Ajagged-edge canary-yellow splotch as
substantial and coherent as a piece offloating gauze materialized in midair
near the door. Inside each splotch wasprinted in black the punctuated word
KNOCK! These manifestations lastedapproximately three seconds before fading to
nothing."Come in," called Gyro.Above his head appeared an unmistakable word
balloon. A white oval roughly thesize of an unfolded diaper with a dangling
curving tail functioning assource-pointer, the balloon repeated Gyro's words:
Come in.Gyro got to his feet. "Oh, excellent." A second balloon materialized,
even asthe first was fading. Gyro walked quickly around the collection of
intelligentparticles. As solid to the eye as a sheet of vellum, the word
balloon displayedits message on both sides in readable orientation.The door to
Gyro's office swung open, framing Gyro's secretary, Mina Lucente,bearing a
tray from the company cafeteria. Today, to complement herDaisy-Duckish
pinafore, Mina wore robin's-egg-blue pumps. As she crossed theoffice's tiled
floor, each percussive strike of her high heels was accompaniedby a spatter of
purple centered around a click proportionately smaller than theloud KNOCK!"Mr.
Gearloose, I brought you some --" Mina faltered as her words appeared
inquasi-tactile form above her head. Holding the tray one-handed, she covered
hermouth."Don't worry, Mina. That balloon's not issuing from you. Well, not
entirely."Gyro explained what he had done, his own continuous speech
flickering across thesurface of a single balloon as if on a teleprompter, as
the clever utility fogmaximized its resources. "Now, set that tray down and go