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

at Stahn like one of them was something in a zoo.
тАЬNo thanks,тАЭ Stahn said, looking away. тАЬI just want to catch a
slot.тАЭ
 тАЬInside your lamejoke private eye fantasy? Be here now, bro.
Merge into the One.тАЭ The kid was handsome in an unformed way,
but his skin seemed unnaturally slack. Stahn had the impression he
was stoned.
Stahn frowned and shook his head again. The ridgeback gave
him a flimsy plas pamphlet, tapped his own head, and then tapped
StahnтАЩs head as if to mime the flow of knowledge. Poor dumb
freak. Just then an empty slot came by. Safely off the sidewalk,
Stahn looked the leaflet over. OR-MY IS THE WAY, it read. ALL
IS ONE!
The text said that sharing love with oneтАЩs fellows could lead
to a fuller union with the cosmos at large. At the deepest level, the
pamphlet informed Stahn, all people are aspects of the same
archetype. Those who wished to learn more about Organic
Mysticism were urged to visit the Church offices on the sixth floor
of the ISDN ziggurat. All this wisdom came courtesy of Bei Ng,
whose picture and biography appeared on the pamphletтАЩs back
cover. A skinny yellow guy with wrinkles and a pointed head. He
looked like a big reefer. Even after eighteen clean months, lots of
things still made Stahn think of drugs.
The Einstein cityscape drifted past. Big, the place was
bigтАФlike Manhattan, say, or half of D.C. Not to mention all the
chambers and tunnels underground. Anthill. Smart robots had built
the city, and then the humans had kicked them out. The boppers.
They were easy to kill, once you knew how. Carbon-dioxide laser,
EM energy, scramble their circuits. TheyтАЩd gone way underground.
Stahn had mixed feelings about boppers. He liked them because
they were even less like regular people than he was. At one point
heтАЩd even hung out with them a little. But then theyтАЩd killed his
fatherтАж back in 2020. Poor old dad. All the trouble Stahn had
given him, and now it felt like he was turning into him, year by
year. Mooney Search. Wave on it, sister, wiggle. Can I get some head?
YukawaтАЩs address was a metal door, set flush into the
pumice-stone sidewalk. Deep Encounters said the sign over the
door-plate. Psychological counselling? The folks in this
neighborhood didnтАЩt look too worried about personality
integration. Bunch of thieves and junkies is what they looked like.
Old Mother Earth had really shipped the dregs to Einstein. Like
the South, right, Settled by slaves and convictsтАФsince 1690. 2022 was
when the humans had retaken the Moon. Stahn looked at the sheet
that Yukawa had sent. 90-3-888-4772. Punch in the code, Stahn.
Numbers. Prickly little numbers. Number, Space, Logic, InfinityтАж
for the boppers it was all Information. Good or bad?
OK, so the door opens, and Stahn ladders on down and takes
a look. A vestibule, empty and gray. To the right was a door with a
light over it. In front of Stahn was another door, and a window like
at a walk-in bank. YukawaтАЩs face was behind the thick glass. Stahn