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Ribofunk :: Филиппо Пол Ди
Страница: 60 из 156Who'd come to us if they thought we'd, ah, rat on them?"
"You know it won't get any further than this room."
The Puma was feeling mean. "Sorry. Anything else?"
I pulled my shocker off my hip. The Puma laughed.
"What are you gonna do with that toy, knock me out? When I come to, you still won't know anything."
I aimed at his chest and pulled the trigger. The dart embedded its microhooks into his armor.
"Bad shot, slagger. You didn't even connect with the flesh."
"I know." I sent current down the wire. The Puma stiffened boardlike out on his couch, just like a window shutter.
"The fuel cell in this is rated for a month of constant output. When I leave by your bolthole with your Canary, your Rats will try breaking in. I don't imagine they'll succeed, given your security. I understand dying of thirst is particularly nasty."
"I'll sue the cartel that sold me this piece of shit armor!"
"Only if you tell me what I want to know."
The Puma gave an exaggerated sigh. "Okay. The guy wouldn't let us unravel his blood. That made us curious, and
we were gonna try for a sample anyway. But he was launch-on-warning and pulled a flashlight on us. Put a quick end to any fiddle and diddle, and we desisted. He proceeded to describe his prob. Sounded like he needed a high-powered math coprocessor and some grafix wetware. We laid them in, and it seemed to satisfy him.''
"He say what he intended to do with 'em?"
"Hey, it's getting hard to breathe in this suit-"
"It'll only get harder. C'mon. Where was he going?"
"Well, our fee pretty much wiped him out. He wanted to know where he could get a big stake to gamble with. I told him the casinos' in this town were too conservative to loan him anything. It's true, you know, Boston 's as far out of things as the Oort Cloud. I sent him to Atlantic City."
"Right." I reeled the dart back in. The Puma relaxed.
"You make it hard to act friendly," he said.
"Not my biggest worry. See you around, Zee Pee."
Back on the streets, I joined a line at a Bank of Boston machine. Flipper's tip had paid off, and I was going to credit the church's account before I headed for Atlantic City.
The guy in front of me took back his card from the machine. He went to pocket it, then something made him halt. He looked at his card, swore, then drew his gun and fired into the bank machine.
The machine let out an electronic squeal. It shot out of its wall-alcove on four wheels and tried to race off. It knocked down a salesman. The salesman's sample case hit the ground and broke open. Shards of music filled the air.
"You know it won't get any further than this room."
The Puma was feeling mean. "Sorry. Anything else?"
I pulled my shocker off my hip. The Puma laughed.
"What are you gonna do with that toy, knock me out? When I come to, you still won't know anything."
I aimed at his chest and pulled the trigger. The dart embedded its microhooks into his armor.
"Bad shot, slagger. You didn't even connect with the flesh."
"I know." I sent current down the wire. The Puma stiffened boardlike out on his couch, just like a window shutter.
"The fuel cell in this is rated for a month of constant output. When I leave by your bolthole with your Canary, your Rats will try breaking in. I don't imagine they'll succeed, given your security. I understand dying of thirst is particularly nasty."
"I'll sue the cartel that sold me this piece of shit armor!"
"Only if you tell me what I want to know."
The Puma gave an exaggerated sigh. "Okay. The guy wouldn't let us unravel his blood. That made us curious, and
we were gonna try for a sample anyway. But he was launch-on-warning and pulled a flashlight on us. Put a quick end to any fiddle and diddle, and we desisted. He proceeded to describe his prob. Sounded like he needed a high-powered math coprocessor and some grafix wetware. We laid them in, and it seemed to satisfy him.''
"He say what he intended to do with 'em?"
"Hey, it's getting hard to breathe in this suit-"
"It'll only get harder. C'mon. Where was he going?"
"Well, our fee pretty much wiped him out. He wanted to know where he could get a big stake to gamble with. I told him the casinos' in this town were too conservative to loan him anything. It's true, you know, Boston 's as far out of things as the Oort Cloud. I sent him to Atlantic City."
"Right." I reeled the dart back in. The Puma relaxed.
"You make it hard to act friendly," he said.
"Not my biggest worry. See you around, Zee Pee."
Back on the streets, I joined a line at a Bank of Boston machine. Flipper's tip had paid off, and I was going to credit the church's account before I headed for Atlantic City.
The guy in front of me took back his card from the machine. He went to pocket it, then something made him halt. He looked at his card, swore, then drew his gun and fired into the bank machine.
The machine let out an electronic squeal. It shot out of its wall-alcove on four wheels and tried to race off. It knocked down a salesman. The salesman's sample case hit the ground and broke open. Shards of music filled the air.