"Michael Swanwick - Trojan Horse" - читать интересную книгу автора (Swanwick Michael)

"Just a precaution; a lot of the research that goes on here wouldn't be allowed without this kind of
security. Relax-I haven't lost a dome yet."



The intercom cut out, and again Elin felt Tory's presence. "We're trying a Trojan horse program this
time-inserting you into the desired mental states instead of making you the states. We've encapsulated
your surface identity and routed the experimental programs through a secondary level. So with this series,
rather than identifying with the programs, you'll perceive them all indirectly."



Tory, you have got to be the most jargon-ridden human being in existence. How about repeating that in
English?



"I'll show you."
 Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html




Suddenly Elin was englobed in a sphere of branching crimson lines, dark and dull, that throbbed slowly.
Lacy and organic, it looked the way she imagined the veins in her forehead to be like when she had a
headache.



"That was anger," Tory said. "Your mind shunted it off into visual imagery because it didn't identify the
anger with itself."



That's what you're going to do then-program me into the God-state so that 1 can see it but not
experience it?



"Ultimately. Though I doubt you'll be able to come up with pictures. More likely, you'll feel that you're in
the presence of God." He withdrew for a moment, leaving her more than alone, almost nonexistent. Then
he was back. "We start slowly, though. The first session runs you up to the basic metaprogramming level,
integrates all your mental processes, and puts you in low-level control of them. The nontechnical term for
this is making the Christ. Don't fool around with anything you see or sense."



His voice faded, she was alone, and then everything changed.