"Alastair Reynolds - A Spy In Europa" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Alastair)

to a point. The opposite side was half a kilometre away; levels rising

like geologic strata. A wide glass tower threaded the atrium from top to

bottom, aglow with smoky-green ocean and a mass of kelplike flora,

cultured by gilly swimmers. Artificial sunlamps burned in the kelp like

christmas tree lights. Above, the tower branched; peristaltic feeds

reaching out to the ocean proper. Offices, shops, restaurants and

residential units were stacked atop each other, or teetered into the abyss

on elegant balconies, spun from lustrous sheets of bulk-chitin polymer,

the Demarchy's major construction material. Gossamer bridges arced across

the atrium space, dodging banners, projections and vast translucent

sculptures, moulded from a silky variant of the same chitin polymer. Every

visible surface was overlaid by neon, holographics and entoptics. People

were everywhere, and in every face Vargovic detected a slight absence; as

if their minds were not entirely focused on the here and now. No wonder:

all citizens had an implant which constantly interrogated them, eliciting

their opinions on every aspect of Demarchy life, both within

Cadmus-Asterius and beyon. Eventually, it was said, the implant's nagging

presence faded from consciousness, until the act of democratic

participation became near-involuntary.

It revolted Vargovic as much as it intrigued him.



"Obviously," Control said, with judicial deliberation. "What Cholok has to

offer isn't merely a nugget - or she'd have given it via PE3."
Vargovic leant forward. "She hasn't told you?"

"Only that it could endanger the hanging cities."