"FWLS4" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See)

home, here in the urban hell surrounding the Yttian capital city
on Yttia. I can't stand travelling offworld. You have to deal
with talking in that accursed English, not to mention the chance
of bumping into a Murfle. Most of the planet had coped with the
sudden end of the Ytt/Murfle war a few dozen years back, but my
family was hurt too much during it to whisk it away at the
Confederation's request.

Since humans are gonna be reading this mem-wyar of mine
however, I gotta write and talk in English. This means you won't
be getting the full effect of the adjective rich Yttian
vocabulary, so I'll have to attempt to translate the adjectives
out. They're pretty specific, so bear with me.

Anyway, I'm not going to start this out with 'it all
happened when' because this particular tale in my life didn't
take long enough to 'happen when', so we'll start out on that
street corner at the junction of 5th and Ikky.

I had been sweeping this section last night for good senses
my dealers in the Septic Tank might be able to fod off on some of
my brother Ytts who worked there. I got three scents of putrid
sewer stench, one taste of a REALLY good hamburger (I had to eat
six before I got the right one), the sight of a recent murder
victim (modern rez artists jump at that stuff) and two orgasms.
It was a good night, and my dealers bought most of my stock. You
get some real sickos in the less select parts of the net, but I
don't mind, 'cuz I'm helping out the Yttian cause and flipping
the bird at those corporate samplers to boot.

I had a checklist to work on tonight, from some guy
developing a video game that needed very specific samples.
Really odd ones, too. Sound of broken glass? Woman's scream?
Smell of burning flesh? Seems we've got an action game on our
hands here. Some of these didn't seem too fun to get, however.
Good thing when I flip the recorder on, I can turn on a sense
damper. Intercept the sense, suck it right into the recorder,
never reach my mind.

I figured I'd grab some basic everyday samples before
starting in on this creep's list, since the night was young. Hot
dog vendor at two o'clock; mottled green fur, odd coloring in
some spots, real thin. Apparently this guy's hot dogs were so
bad, nobody would buy 'em. Poor sop. I bought one out of pity,
and also out of patriotism. Gotta support local planet business,
unless we want ALL our DAT recorders and holovision sets made by
Terra.

I was eating the stale hot dog (how did he manage THAT?)
without the recorder on, since it was too bad to make the cut