JК
Ribofunk :: Филиппо Пол Ди
Страница: 113 из 156The familiar scene which he had just endured for the nth time played itself out happily for him.
"Yes, little Daewoo Dumbunni, we all do what we must, don't we? Even peddle our arse for the sake of our ars."
Coney had no idea what this last statement meant, but was only too happy to nod his sympathy.
Rising to his feet, Coney's master now said, "And that's why I need you to do your part to make this latest sordid
virtual assignation a success, dear Coney. I have here a new trope called O max-O. It was given to me by one of my fans, a sensitive young plug who works at Xomagraf. It's not available to the hoi polloi yet. He promises me that it will make this digitryst so thrilling for my client that she'll gladly double my Fee. I'm counting on you to deliver it to her within the hour. Her name is Frances Foxx, and this is her address."
Coney's master handed him a crawlypatch and a silicrobe calling card. The card flashed an address in the far west end of the city.
Laboriously tracing a mental map, Coney sought to comprehend his assignment. Finally he spoke.
"This place is quite far. May I take the train?"
"Don't be silly. The train costs eft. The whole point of tonight's dreadful exercise is to earn ecus, not spend them. And besides, the maglev isn't safe for splices, not since those horrid razorboys, the Transgenocides, started haunting the tubes. No, you'll have to walk. You're a speedy little splice, or so the factory claimed. Surely you can cover the distance before Peej Foxx and I are scheduled to crawl into the Sack together."
"But it is night out there."
"So?"
"To make the best time, I will have to cross the Soft Sector. In the dark."
At the thought of such a passage, Coney horripilated.
His master seemed to experience no such somatic dread.
"You force me to repeat myself. so? No one there will pay any attention to you. You're small and insignificant."
"This is the problem."
Coney's master waved the splice's concerns away. "You're exaggerating the difficulties just to extract some concession or luxury from me. Very well, at the completion of your little chore, you may experience one of my sonnets. Perhaps you could dimly appreciate Dance of the Cold Moons."
"Thank you, Peej Hopcroft. Something like extra rations would be very nice. But I would give up everything just not to go. Perhaps you could-"
"What!" thundered Coney's master.
"Yes, little Daewoo Dumbunni, we all do what we must, don't we? Even peddle our arse for the sake of our ars."
Coney had no idea what this last statement meant, but was only too happy to nod his sympathy.
Rising to his feet, Coney's master now said, "And that's why I need you to do your part to make this latest sordid
virtual assignation a success, dear Coney. I have here a new trope called O max-O. It was given to me by one of my fans, a sensitive young plug who works at Xomagraf. It's not available to the hoi polloi yet. He promises me that it will make this digitryst so thrilling for my client that she'll gladly double my Fee. I'm counting on you to deliver it to her within the hour. Her name is Frances Foxx, and this is her address."
Coney's master handed him a crawlypatch and a silicrobe calling card. The card flashed an address in the far west end of the city.
Laboriously tracing a mental map, Coney sought to comprehend his assignment. Finally he spoke.
"This place is quite far. May I take the train?"
"Don't be silly. The train costs eft. The whole point of tonight's dreadful exercise is to earn ecus, not spend them. And besides, the maglev isn't safe for splices, not since those horrid razorboys, the Transgenocides, started haunting the tubes. No, you'll have to walk. You're a speedy little splice, or so the factory claimed. Surely you can cover the distance before Peej Foxx and I are scheduled to crawl into the Sack together."
"But it is night out there."
"So?"
"To make the best time, I will have to cross the Soft Sector. In the dark."
At the thought of such a passage, Coney horripilated.
His master seemed to experience no such somatic dread.
"You force me to repeat myself. so? No one there will pay any attention to you. You're small and insignificant."
"This is the problem."
Coney's master waved the splice's concerns away. "You're exaggerating the difficulties just to extract some concession or luxury from me. Very well, at the completion of your little chore, you may experience one of my sonnets. Perhaps you could dimly appreciate Dance of the Cold Moons."
"Thank you, Peej Hopcroft. Something like extra rations would be very nice. But I would give up everything just not to go. Perhaps you could-"
"What!" thundered Coney's master.