"Cory Doctorow - I robot" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dodd Christina)

reeducation camp with your little daughter still in her belly?

Shut up, he told the nagging voice, which had a robotic quality to it for all its sneering cruelty, a tenor of
syrupy false friendliness. He called up the pen-trace data and texted it to the phreak squad. They had
bots that handled this kind of routine work and they texted him back in an instant. He remembered when
that kind of query would take a couple of hours, and he liked the fast response, but what about the
conversations he'd have with the phone cop who called him back, the camaraderie, the back-and-forth?

TRACE TERMINATES WITH A VIRTUAL SERVICE CIRCUIT AT SWITCH PNG.433-GKRJC.
VIRTUAL CIRCUIT FORWARDS TO A COMPROMISED "ZOMBIE" SYSTEM IN NINTH
DISTRICT, FIRST PREFECTURE. ZOMBIE HAS BEEN SHUT DOWN AND LOCAL LAW
ENFORCEMENT IS EN ROUTE FOR PICKUP AND FORENSICS. IT IS MY PLEASURE TO DO
YOU A SERVICE, DETECTIVE.

How could you have a back-and-forth with a message like that?

He looked up Ninth/First in the metric-analog map converter: KEY WEST, FL.

So, there you had it. A switch made in Papua New-Guinea (which persisted in conjuring up old Oceanic
war photos of bone-in-nose types from his boyhood, though now that they'd been at war with Eurasia for
so long, it was hard to even find someone who didn't think that the war had always been with Eurasia,
that Oceania hadn't always been UNATS's ally), forwarding calls to a computer that was so far south, it
was practically in the middle of the Caribbean, hardly a stone's throw from the CAFTA region, which
was well-known to harbor Eurasian saboteur and terrorist elements.

The car shuddered as it wove in and out of the lanes on the Don Valley Parkway, barreling for the
Gardiner Express Way, using his copper's override to make the thick, slow traffic part ahead of him. He
wasn't supposed to do this, but as between a minor infraction and pissing off the man from Social
Harmony, he knew which one he'd pick.

His phone rang again. It was R Peed Robbert, checking in. "Hello, Detective," it said, its voice crackling
from bad reception. "Subject Ada Trouble Icaza de Arana-Goldberg has deviated from her route. She is
continuing north on Don Mills past Van Horne and is continuing toward Sheppard."

Sheppard meant the Sheppard subway, which meant that she was going farther. "Continue discreet
surveillance." He thought about the overcoat men with their sticky hats. "If she attempts to board the
subway, alert the truancy patrol." He cursed again. Maybe she was just going to the mall. But he couldn't
go up there himself and make sure, and it wasn't like a robot would be any use in restraining her, she'd
just second-law it into letting her go. Useless castrating clanking job-stealing dehumanizing тАФ

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She was almost certainly just going to the mall. She was a smart kid, a good kid тАФ a rotten kid, to be
sure, but good-rotten. Chances were she'd be trying on clothes and flirting with boys until lunch and then
walking boldly back into class. He ballparked it at an 80 percent probability. If it had been a perp, 80
percent might have been good enough.