"FWLS17" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See)annoying-grumpy-superior-officer-of-workspace has been spying on
you or something, and figured you had no fashion sense." "Weirdness. Well, strange appearances or not, I've got to run them through the final check. Even more so, since those horrid-vagrants-who-tamper-with-private-property might have munged my hardware when they broke in and... well, decorated." "Alrighty. I'll let you know if I see them again." * It turned out nothing was really damaged. The larger one had a bit of a motor control problem with his right arm, but that could be fixed later; he still had to run the control code through the debugger one last time. As humanity figured out in the twentieth century, both in the bedroom and in the computer room, viruses tend to spread well if you connect things together without protecting them. This could lead to either death or scrambled data, depending on if you were silicon-based or carbon-based. W'ny hadn't bothered disconnecting his IP hookup to VOSNet before running the debugger. After all, if he did, mail and other files couldn't get through. The plus side to cutting the link would be that no "Okay, all hooked," he commented, enabling the radio transmitter on each of the three now-very-interesting looking robots. "Debug bot1, bot2, bot3... hmmm... transferring a bit more code than usual... I wonder whAWK!" W'ny was lifted off the floor by a mammoth fleshy hand with a grip of steel. Bot3 stared him right in the face, muscles flexing, and face grimacing. "I need your clothes, your boots, and your motorcycle," he grunted in some odd accent. "Ummm... I dunno if my lab coat'll fit you, I'm wearing sneakers, and I drive a Yugo." "Put the weenie down, Crank," the femalebot responded, slapping Crank around a little. "We don't wanna kill the guy, after all. He's important to us." "Wha?" W'ny stammered, not liking this at all. "Sorry. How rude not to introduce. Arissa, that's Crank, the wimp's Twink." |
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