Dozois, Gardner (ed) - Hackers / Дозуа, Гарднер - Хакеры [2013, EPUB, ENG]

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Gardner Dozois & Jack Dann (ed) - Hackers

Название: Hackers / Хакеры
Год выпуска: 2013
Под редакцией: Dozois, Gardner & Dann, Jack / Дозуа, Гарднер & Данн, Джек
Издательство: Baen Books
ISBN: 978-1-62579-147-4
Формат: EPUB
Качество: eBook
Язык: английский

Антология фантастики о хакерах. Среди авторов: William Gibson, Greg Egan, Robert Silverberg, Bruce Sterling ...
Burning Chrome / Сожжение Хром novelette by William Gibson
Spirit of the Night novelette by Tom Maddox
Blood Sisters / Сёстры по крови short story by Greg Egan
Rock On / Рокенроллим short story by Pat Cadigan
The Pardoner's Tale / Торговец индульгенциями short story by Robert Silverberg
Living Will novelette by Alexander Jablokov
Dogfight / Поединок novelette by William Gibson and Michael Swanwick
Our Neural Chernobyl / Наш нейронный Чернобыль short story by Bruce Sterling
(Learning About) Machine Sex short story by Candas Jane Dorsey
Conversations with Michael short story by Daniel Marcus
Gene Wars / Генные войны short story by Paul J. McAuley
Spew short story by Neal Stephenson
Tangents / Касательные short story by Greg Bear

Greg Egan

When we were nine years old, Paula decided we should prick our thumbs, and let our blood flow into each other’s veins.
I was scornful. “Why bother? Our blood’s already exactly the same. We’re already blood sisters.”
She was unfazed. “I know that. That’s not the point. It’s the ritual that counts.”
We did it in our bedroom, at midnight, by the light of a single candle. She sterilized the needle in the candle flame, then wiped it clean of soot with a tissue and saliva.
When we’d pressed the tiny, sticky wounds together, and recited some ridiculous oath from a third-rate children’s novel, Paula blew out the candle. While my eyes were still adjusting to the dark, she added a whispered coda of her own: “Now we’ll dream the same dreams, and share the same lovers, and die at the very same hour.”
I tried to say, indignantly, “That’s just not true!” but the darkness and the scent of the dead flame made the protest stick in my throat, and her words remained unchallenged.
. . .
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