"Michael Swanwick - Vacumn Flowers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Swanwick Michael)

self. And start all over again. Sound familiar?тАЭ
тАЬIтАж think I remember now,тАЭ Rebel said. Then, urgently,
тАЬBut it doesnтАЩt feel like anything IтАЩve done. ItтАЩs like it all
happened to somebody else.тАЭ
тАЬIтАЩm coming to that,тАЭ Heisen said. тАЬThe thing is that
persona bums are all notoriously unstable. TheyтАЩre all
suicidally unhappy typesтАФthatтАЩs how they end up with that
kind of job, you see? TheyтАЩre looking to be Mister Right.
But the joke is that they have such miserable experience
structures theyтАЩre never happy as anyone. Experience
always dominates, as we say.тАЭ He paused a beat and
looked triumphantly at Snow. тАЬOnly this time it didnтАЩt.тАЭ
Snow said nothing. After an uncomfortable pause,
Heisen said, тАЬYeah. WeтАЩve got the exception that disproves
the rule. Our Eucrasia powered on, tried the personaтАФand
she liked it. She liked it so much that she poured a glass of
water into the programmer and shorted it out. Thus
destroying not only the safe-copy of her own persona, but
also the only copy in existence of the Mudlark program.тАЭ
Again, that small lizard-movement. тАЬThenтАжтАЭ Snow said.
тАЬYes. Yes I see. Interesting.тАЭ With the small, electric thrill
of remembering something she couldnтАЩt possibly know,
Rebel realized that Snow was accessing her system, that a
tightly-aimed sonic mike or subcortical implant was
feeding her data. тАЬHow did you manage to lift her?тАЭ Snow
 asked.
Heisen shrugged. тАЬBlind luck. She broke herself out, and
I happened by.тАЭ He told what he knew of her escape.
тАЬNow that is interesting.тАЭ The woman stood. She was tall
and impossibly, ethereally thin. A wraith in white, she
kept her cloak clutched tight. Two long, fleshless fingers
ghosted out to touch RebelтАЩs forehead. They were hard
and dry as parchment, and Rebel shivered at their touch.
тАЬWhat kind of mind are we dealing with here?тАЭ Snow fell
silent.
тАЬTake a look at her specs.тАЭ Heisen yanked a briefcase
from a cloak pocket and punched up a holographic
branching-limb wetware diagram. It hung in the air, a
convoluted green sphere, looking for all the world like a
tumbleweed. Or like a faraway globular treeтАж It looked
exactly like RebelтАЩs home dyson world, and the image hit
her hard. тАЬOkay, this is a crude representation,тАЭ Heisen
said eagerly. тАЬBut lookтАФsee where the n-branch trines?
YouтАЩve got a very strongтАФтАЭ
The green sphere burned in the air like a vision of the
grail, and Rebel flashed to that light-filled instant when
her persona had flooded her skull, and she had picked up
a glass and upended it over the programmer. The water
writhed in the air, sparkling, and the supervising wettech
twisted around in horror, mouth falling open, panic in her