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Interviewer: Nor do I, but some people do, don't they?
Heilman: Maybe if there was a Jewish AI, I'd feel differently.
Interviewer: Well, is it possible that a messiah is out there and we just
haven't heard from him?
Heilman: Of course it's possible.
Interviewer: Thanks for being on Know Your Messiah!, Rabbi Heilman. We'll keep
your advice in mind as we keep our eye out for the coming messiah!
Chapter 18 Mouse
Worms, black and nasty, crawl over my skin. They feel slimy, but they don't
bite or try to bore through my avatar. Experimentally I squish a few in my
fingers. No poison or sting emits from them, so I shake them off without a
second thought. I begin to dismiss the worms as a harmless nuisance until I
realize that there are so many little black bodies falling from the holes in
the LINK node that they're piling up at my feet, making it difficult to move.
"Tribble worm," I say to Page, but he's already gone, disappearing at the
speed of thought. A new trick for him, and I'm impressed.
I shake my head, causing more worms to fall at my feet. The squirming pile is
already knee-high and rising. I can't believe I was fooled by a simple script.
I am so losing my touch. Worse, I notice a few of the black nasties crawling
inside my shirt a metaphor for a system invasion. My defenses must have let
them in because they weren't doing anything other than taking up space.
Merciful Allah, I need an upgrade & or a functioning brain.
I'm in the middle of shutting down for a full cleanout when I get a boot in
the rib cage. The pain breaks my concentration, and my LINK interface crashes.
"Zarba!" I curse in Arabic, shaking my head to clear the rain of ones and
zeros. One of the reasons I rarely write code on the LINK is because its
environment is so unstable. Real time can intrude so easily, especially when
it comes in the form of a size-twelve boot.
Page 73
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
I open my eyes to a long expanse of brown carpet leading to beige wallpaper
with a pattern of tiny gold fleurs-de-lis. It takes me a second to reconfigure
my bearings. Then I remember: the hotel.
I'm lying on the floor near the bathroom door. Morning sunshine streams in
through the windows. Its brightness makes red dots dance in front of my eyes.
I can feel the rough impression the carpeting made on my face. Morningstar
stands over me, his foot ready to give me another kick. I raise my hands for
peace. "Stop already!"
"She's gone again," he informs me. "Do your work."
I pull myself upright with some effort and a little dramatic groaning. My
muscles did ache a bit, probably from all the thrashing around I did when the
LINK reactivated. "Hey, muti," I say, referring to Morningstar as a jackass.
"Didn't I tell you last night that I couldn't help your lady? And then you pay
me by giving me the LINK. How cool, but kind of misplaced, you know? 'Cuz I
still can't help you out."
Morningstar's hair has come undone. He glares at me through two perfectly
parted auburn curtains. He sits on the edge of the bed, one hand resting
lightly on Emmaline's ankle. "I don't think you understood the purpose of that
little demonstration, sharmoota," he says, calling me a whore in perfect
Arabic. "What I gave, I can take away."
Pain flares up behind my eyes. The sensation penetrates my skull like hundreds
of white-hot microscopic needles. My vision goes red.
"Allah!" I am apparently begging for mercy when the pain stops. My forehead is
pressed to the floor, between my knees, as though I am observing morning
prayers. I take a slow, hissing breath. Then, righting myself with careful
deliberation, I wipe the tears from my eyes. Humiliation burns from my cheeks
to my toes. When my gaze meets Morningstar's, I say, "You, sir, are the
biggest fucker I have ever met."
Morningstar smiles. "Yes, I imagine so."
The LINK is gone wiped out without a trace, like it was never even there. Yet
I can still feel mouse.net humming in the background. Did Morningstar forget
it, or leave me this scrap so I can do his bidding? The oddity of the
situation hits me, and I find myself asking, "Tell me again why you need me. I
mean, you're the guy who can make the LINK disappear and reappear like
Houdini. Why don't you just wave away your girlfriend's problems and leave me
out of it?"
Morningstar's face is pinched like he's tired or Allah protect me angry. "God [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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