"FWLS57" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See)

darkened corner.

"I cannot tell... sounds like singing..." I said, trying to
concentrate on the sound.

o/~ ...give it back, give it back, we need words again...
give it back, give it back, we're dying in vr... o/~ sang the PA
speakers. Mr. Doors' voice, with the faint tap-tap-tap of keys
behind it.

"Hey, I recognize that song. It's called I Want My Terminal
Back... can't remember the artist. One of my students was
playing it during history class..."

We darted onward, small amounts of chaos erupting all around
us as security did a good job of being insecure. The haunting
little ditty followed us around, gushing out of PA speakers
everywhere.

o/~ ...i'm tired of the nowhere land, i want to get out, let
me out, i want my terminal back... o/~

"This is surely the ninth layer of hell," I said, trying to
shut out the sounds of bad music and security robot death wails.

"I used to work here. I say eleventh layer at least," Help
said. "The doors are ahead. Let's get going, this place gives
me the creeps..."

A pair of security robots wheeled themselves into our path,
blocking the gate.

"HALT WHERE YOU ARE. SECURITY," one said, aiming a laser at
us. We froze.

"YEAH, STICK 'EM UP," a silly imitation of a robotic voice
beeped from the other security robot. "NAAH, ON SECOND THOUGHT,
*YOU* STICK 'EM UP."

The second robot turned to the first, cutting a neat line in
the carpet in front of it. The first robot panicked and started
rolling away, second in hot pursuit.

"DANCE FOR ME, ROBBY! DANGER, WIL ROBINSON!" the second
laughed. "HAHAHA... o/~ VT100 WAS THE KEY, BUT THEY THREWW THE
KEEY AWAAAAYY... o/~"

I slammed a shoulder into the door, throwing it open and
making for the airport as fast as my enhanced leg servos could
take me. Behind me, the building lights flickered and the