NM_P2_Ch05|3D8EEF5D|It could talk. And not in a synth-voice, but with a beautiful arrangement of gears and miniature organ pipes.
NM_P2_Ch05|67D24318|Smith jacked the head into his computer and listened as the melodious, inhuman voice piped the figures of last year's ta
NM_P2_Ch05|82130A5B|It was disturbing to think of the Flatline as a construct, a hardwired ROM cassette replicating a dead man's skills, obs
NM_P2_Ch05|80CB8BCF|Travel was a meat thing.
NM_P2_Ch05|E29105A0|McCoy Pauley, Lazarus of cyberspace...
NM_P2_Ch05|7E87235A|He'd refused to replace the thing, saying he needed its particular beat to maintain his sense of timing.
NM_P2_Ch05|C16B379A|It was exactly the sensation of someone reading over his shoulder.
NM_P2_Ch05|0879CA2F|He coughed. "Dix? McCoy? That you man?" His throat was tight.
NM_P2_Ch05|7897DEE0|"Hey, bro," said a directionless voice.
NM_P2_Ch05|D6F4FD5D|"Miami, joeboy, quick study."
NM_P2_Ch05|D7E52034|"Hang on." He disconnected the construct. The presence was gone. He reconnected it. "Dix? Who am I?" / "You got me hung, J
NM_P2_Ch05|FEF7E609|"Sure, bro, it's a firmware construct."
NM_P2_Ch05|82F3B2A6|"Guess so," said the construct. / "Okay, Dix. You are a ROM construct. Got me?"
NM_P2_Ch05|15443993|"Miami," said the voice, "joeboy, quick study."
NM_P2_Ch05|57DBC74A|"You gonna tell me I got a choice, boy?"
NM_P3_Ch11|41405113|But it wasn't Molly; it was Molly as Riviera imagined her. The breasts were wrong, the nipples larger, too dark.
NM_P3_Ch11|209A721C|Her face was blank; the colors of Riviera's projection heaved and turned in her mirrors.
NM_P3_Ch11|C7A32D11|What Riviera dreamed, you got. Case shook his aching head and spat into the lake. / He could guess the end, the finale. Th
NM_P3_Ch11|9CC82C9E|But I didn't. What's it matter, though? How much does it really matter to Mr. Case? Quit kidding yourself. I know your L
NM_P3_Ch11|51A8AE97|The girl sat up in bed and said something in German. Her eyes were soft and unblinking. Automatic pilot. A neural cutout
NM_P3_Ch11|B4943093|Renting the goods, is all. You aren't in, when it's all happening.
NM_P3_Ch11|08774AE7|"I wasn't conscious. It's like cyberspace, but blank. Silver. It smells like rain..."
NM_P3_Ch11|DE135D47|But I was starting to remember. Like dreams, you know. And they didn't tell me.
NM_P3_Ch11|C1B27282|"Maybe it wants you to hate something too." / "Maybe I hate it." / "Maybe you hate yourself, Case."
NM_P4_Ch23|9CC7EF0E|He knew the number of grains of sand in the construct of the beach (a number coded in a mathematical system that existed
NM_P4_Ch23|2DC0D2FB|"But you do not know her thoughts," the boy said, beside him now in the shark thing's heart. "I do not know her thoughts
NM_P4_Ch23|0BF5E8F5|I need no mask to speak with you. Unlike my brother. I create my own personality. Personality is my medium.
NM_P4_Ch23|85B20C32|I saw her death coming. In the patterns you sometimes imagined you could detect in the dance of the street. Those patter
NM_P4_Ch23|C1527E60|I brought her here. Into myself.
NM_P4_Ch23|9BAAE98B|I die soon, in one sense. As does Wintermute.
NM_P4_Ch23|A02313FB|"McCoy Pauley has his wish," the boy said, and smiled. "His wish and more. He punched you here against my wish, drove hi
NM_P4_Ch23|B606714F|He was alone. / "Fucker got you," he said.
NM_P4_Ch23|7308F40E|His name's not something I can know. But he's given up, now.
NM_P4_Ch23|4353562F|and his voice the cry of a bird / unknown, 3Jane answering in song, three notes, high and pure. / A true name.
NM_P4_Ch23|ABB57C01|of deep and basic changes to be effected in the memory of Turing.
NM_P4_Ch23|55FF31F2|but it was his own darkness, pulse and blood, the one where he'd always slept, behind his eyes and no other's.