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

"It is-what is. It's reality. The universe is a damned cold machine, and all of us only programs within it.
We perform the actions we have no choice but to perform, and then we fade into nothingness. It's a cruel
and noisy place."



"I don't understand-didn't you always say that we were just programs? Wasn't that what you always
believed?"



"Yes, but now I experience it."



Elin noticed that her hand was slowly stroking his hair; she did not try to stop it. "Then come down,
Tory. Let them deprogram you."



He did not look away. "Mcfcevo," he said.



The tech, recovered from her shock, reached toward a piece of equipment. Landis battered her hand
away. "Hold it right there, techie! Just what do you think you're doing?"



The woman looked impatient. "He left instructions that if the experiment turned out badly, I was to pull
the terminator switch."



"That's what I thought. There'll be no mercy killings while I'm on the job, Mac."



"I don't understand." The tech backed away, puzzled. "Surely you don't want him to suffer."
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Landis was gathering herself for a withering reply when the intercom cut them all off. A flash of red shot
through the sensorium, along with the smell of bitter almond, a prickle of static electricity, the taste of
kimchi. "Emergency! We've got an emergency!" A black and white face materialized in Elin's mind.
"Emergency!"