"Ian Watson - Caucus Winter" - читать интересную книгу автора (Watson Ian)

electronically, not leviathan states. Scotland will soon split away from
England." (Jock raised an eyebrow at this! "When China comes apart, there'll be
terrible civil war, maybe nuclear. A century from now the world will consist of
ten thousand different free states and free cities."

Newman was already dismissing America as a lost cause, a crippled giant brought
to its knees, never to rise again except feebly, relying hereafter on crutches.
There was an unpleasant gloating in his attitude, which he veneered as prophetic
wisdom. An oak bookcase was full of volumes about the future of computers, robot
intelligence, the coming world order, and such.

"If CAUC-US secedes," he predicted, "California and Oregon will follow quickly
-- with a utopian rather than a racist aim. They'll need to, for their own
sake."

"Shit," said Bill Turtle.

"Your budget could never balance," Hashimoto said to Turtle, off-beam. "So all
falls apart. The center cannot hold."

"Nevertheless," Newman said, "let's play at being King Canute. We'll shove our
throne into the path of the waves and try to turn the tide."

When we went to the changing rooms, Newman behaved as if we were heading for a
bout of squash in a subterranean court. He mimed flicking imaginary balls
against walls, trivializing the situation, or implying how effortlessly he might
triumph against Motorola's stolen prototype and the geek superhacker.

He had bragged that his team was rushing to finish its own quantum computer, at
least in a provisional way. Motherboard being finalized. Millions of events
might be occurring in America, but the crucial event could indeed happen right
here. Matter of hours, maybe. I took some comfort from his attitude, humiliating
and provoking though it was.

Of course, a glitch could cause days of delay. Problems might not show up until
the quantum computer began running for real, launched upon the world not after
months of beta-testing, but right in at the deep end. But oh dear me, we
Americans had failed to forewarn Carl Newman and his team that the U.S.
government might need bailing out at such short notice. Damn the man; damn him
to hell.

Hell was where much of America was right now...Even if we succeeded, what wounds
there would be; worse than after our first Civil War.
SUPERVISED by a young Japanese woman, Outi and I put on blue peasant-style
anti-static pajamas, then protective hooded white oversuits -- not to protect
us, of course, but to keep dust out of the fabrication lab. Booties, for our
feet. Goggles and breathing masks smelled of alcohol. Vinyl gloves went over
latex gloves.

Dressed like explorers upon Mars, we met up with Tuttle and Newman. Did Newman