"Rudy Rucker - Freeware" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rucker Rudy)

"Shaped like the Koran or the Book of Mormon? Or maybe like the fuckin' works of
Shakespeare!"
"Like the Bible. Remember? Andrea's into Christianity these days. She's allтАФ" Monique
broke into laughter, threw back her head, and delivered a pitch-perfect imitation of her
mother's tones: " 'I am interested in a relationship with a God-fearing Christian man.' "

Xlotl nodded thoughtfully. "Andrea will get you to go through with it. If she don't take the
job herself. I'll cool my heels at Los TrancosтАФwith my uvvy tuned for you. Squawk if you
need muscle."

"Wavy, darling. Wish me luck." Monique bounded down the beach toward the Boardwalk.
She stayed at the edge of the surf, where the glistening wet sand was the firmest. Some of
the people she passed smiled and nodded, while others frowned and looked away. One
guyтАФthe father of the boy Xlotl had frightenedтАФstood up and shouted, "Go back to the
Moon!" He was holding a beer.

Instead of bouncing on farther, Monique stopped short and faced him. He was sitting on a
blanket with his wife and another couple under an oversized beach umbrella. Their pale,
weedy kids grubbed in the sand around them.

"I've never been to the Moon," shouted back Monique. "Why don't you get out of my
town?"
"Fuck you!" hollered the man.

"Where do you want it?" screeched Monique, phallically thrusting her arm. "In your nose
or up your ass?" She bounced menacingly toward the man. He sat down and gestured
weakly for Monique to go away.
In a few minutes Monique drew even with the Santa Cruz Boardwalk, a classic seaside
amusement park. All day long, the students, moldies, farmworkers, surfers, and homeless
stoners of Santa Cruz streamed through the Boardwalk, diluting the valleys and
Heritagists enough so that the place was never whitebread dull. The Boardwalk was six
blocks long and half a block thin. Despite the name, the grounds were paved with
concrete.

Monique went up from the beach onto the Boardwalk near the main snack bar, which had
Tre's huge new ad for wendy meat on display overhead. The ad was a vast translucent
hollow made up of seven kinds of funny-shaped creatures pecking each other's butts and
heads and adding up to an image of an impossibly beautified man and woman whose
expressions kept cycling through an ever-escalating but never repeating spiral of joy. The
man was modeled on ex-Senator Stahn Mooney and the woman on his wife Wendy
Mooney, sexily wearing nothing but her Happy Cloak. It was a fascinating thing to look at,
like an immense three-dimensional mosaic of pastel chunks. The shapes of the chunks
were based on a four-dimensional Perplexing Poultry philtre which Tre had discovered in
July. Monique had helped Tre a bit with the final computations for the ad, and it made
her proud to see it.

As Monique crossed the Boardwalk, somebody mistook her for a worker and asked her
where to get ride tickets. Monique pointed to the ticket kiosk and motorvated on past it,
smoothly rolling the ripples of her base.