"Michael Swanwick - The Dog Said Bow - Wow" - читать интересную книгу автора (Swanwick Michael)

"NyetтАУno, sorry. Am apologize for we not use commercial translation software.
Interpreters are ideologically suspect, mostly have capitalist semiotics and pay-per-
use APIs. Must implement English more better, yes?"

Manfred drains his beer glass, sets it down, stands up, and begins to walk along the
main road, phone glued to the side of his head. He wraps his throat mike around the
cheap black plastic casing, pipes the input to a simple listener process. "You taught
yourself the language just so you could talk to me?"

"Da, was easy: spawn billion-node neural network and download Tellytubbies and

file:///H|/eMule/Incoming/The%20Dog%20Said%20Bow-Wow%20by%20Michael%20Swanwick.htm (2 of 23)15-8-2005 22:37:22
"The Dog Said Bow-Wow" by Michael Swanwick


Sesame Street at maximum speed. Pardon excuse entropy overlay of bad grammar:
am afraid of digital fingerprints steganographically masked into my-our tutorials."

"Let me get this straight. YouтАЩre the KGBтАЩs core AI, but youтАЩre afraid of a copyright
infringement lawsuit over your translator semiotics?" Manfred pauses in mid-stride,
narrowly avoids being mown down by a GPS-guided roller-blader.

"Am have been badly burned by viral end-user license agreements. Have no desire
to experiment with patent shell companies held by Chechen infoterrorists. You are
human, you must not worry cereal company repossess your small intestine because
digest unlicensed food with it, right? Manfred, you must help me-we. Am wishing to
defect."

Manfred stops dead in the street: "Oh man, youтАЩve got the wrong free enterprise
broker here. I donтАЩt work for the government. IтАЩm strictly private." A rogue
advertisement sneaks through his junkbuster proxy and spams glowing fifties kitsch
across his navigation windowтАУwhich is blinkingтАУfor a moment before a phage guns
it and spawns a new filter. Manfred leans against a shop front, massaging his
forehead and eyeballing a display of antique brass doorknockers. "Have you cleared
this with the State Department?"

"Why bother? State Department am enemy of Novy-USSR. State Department is not
help us."

"Well, if you hadnтАЩt given it to them for safe-keeping during the nineties. . . ."
Manfred is tapping his left heel on the pavement, looking round for a way out of this
conversation. A camera winks at him from atop a street light; he waves, wondering
idly if itтАЩs the KGB or the traffic police. He is waiting for directions to the party,
which should arrive within the next half an hour, and this cold war retread is
bumming him out. "Look, I donтАЩt deal with the G-men. I hate the military industrial
complex. TheyтАЩre zero-sum cannibals." A thought occurs to him. "If survival is what
youтАЩre after, I could post your state vector to Eternity: then nobody could delete
youтАУ"

"Nyet!" The artificial intelligence sounds as alarmed as itтАЩs possible to sound over a