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

jetting up around its feet. He takes the card, raises an eyebrow: "Annette Dimarcos?
IтАЩm pleased to meet you. CanтАЩt say IтАЩve ever met anyone from Arianespace
marketing before."

She smiles, humorlessly; "that is convenient, all right. I have not the pleasure of
meeting the famous venture altruist before." Her accent is noticeably Parisian, a
pointed reminder that sheтАЩs making a concession to him just by talking. Her camera
earrings watch him curiously, encoding everything for the company channels.

"Yes, well." He nods cautiously. "Bob. I assume youтАЩre in on this ball?"

Franklin nods; beads clatter. "Yeah, man. Ever since the Teledesic smash itтАЩs been,
well, waiting. If youтАЩve got something for us, weтАЩre game."

"Hmm." The Teledesic satellite cluster was killed by cheap balloons and slightly less
cheap high-altitude solar-powered drones with spread-spectrum laser relays. "The
depressionтАЩs got to end some time: but," a nod to Annette from Paris, "with all due
respect, I donтАЩt think the break will involve one of the existing club carriers."

"Arianespace is forward-looking. We face reality. The launch cartel cannot stand.
Bandwidth is not the only market force in space. We must explore new
opportunities. I personally have helped us diversify into submarine reactor
engineering, microgravity nanotechnology fabrication, and hotel management." Her
face is a well-polished mask as she recites the company line: "we are more flexible
than the American space industry. . . ."


file:///H|/eMule/Incoming/The%20Dog%20Said%20Bow-Wow%20by%20Michael%20Swanwick.htm (6 of 23)15-8-2005 22:37:22
"The Dog Said Bow-Wow" by Michael Swanwick


Manfred shrugs. "ThatтАЩs as may be." He sips his Berlinerweisse slowly as she
launches into a long, stilted explanation of how Arianespace is a diversified dot com
with orbital aspirations, a full range of merchandising spin-offs, Bond movie sets,
and a promising motel chain in French Guyana. Occasionally he nods.

Someone else sidles up to the table; a pudgy guy in an outrageously loud Hawaiian
shirt with pens leaking in a breast pocket, and the worst case of ozone-hole burn
ManfredтАЩs seen in ages. "Hi, Bob," says the new arrival. "HowтАЩs life?"

" тАЩS good." Franklin nodes at Manfred; "Manfred, meet Ivan MacDonald. Ivan,
Manfred. Have a seat?" He leans over. "IvanтАЩs a public arts guy. HeтАЩs heavily into
extreme concrete."

"Rubberized concrete," Ivan says, slightly too loudly. "Pink rubberized concrete."

"Ah!" HeтАЩs somehow triggered a priority interrupt: Annette from Ariannespace
drops out of marketing zombiehood, sits up, and shows signs of possessing a non-
corporate identity: "you are he who rubberized the Reichstag, yes? With the
supercritical carbon dioxide carrier and the dissolved polymethoxysilanes?" She