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Название книги: The Difference Engine
Автор(ы): William Gibson
Жанр: Боевая фантастика
Адрес книги: http://www.6lib.ru/books/The-Difference-Engine-158767.html
FIRST ITERATIONThe Angel of Goliad
Composite image, optically encoded by escort-craft of the trans-Channel airship Lord Brunel: aerial view of suburban Cherbourg, October 14, 1905.A villa, a garden, a balcony.Erase the balcony's wrought-iron curves, exposing a bath-chair and its occupant. Reflected sunset glints from the nickel-plate of the chair's wheel-spokes.The occupant, owner of the villa, rests her arthritic hands upon fabric woven by a Jacquard loom.These hands consist of tendons, tissue, jointed bone. Through quiet processes of time and information, threads within the human cells have woven themselves into a woman.Her name is Sybil Gerard.Below her, in a neglected formal garden, leafless vines lace wooden trellises on whitewashed, flaking walls. From the open windows of her sickroom, a warm draft stirs the loose white hair at her neck, bringing scents of coal-smoke, jasmine, opium.Her attention is fixed upon the sky, upon a silhouette of vast and irresistible grace—metal, in her l
Название книги: The Difference Engine
Автор(ы): William Gibson
Жанр: Боевая фантастика
Адрес книги: http://www.6lib.ru/books/The-Difference-Engine-158767.html
FIRST ITERATIONThe Angel of Goliad
Composite image, optically encoded by escort-craft of the trans-Channel airship Lord Brunel: aerial view of suburban Cherbourg, October 14, 1905.A villa, a garden, a balcony.Erase the balcony's wrought-iron curves, exposing a bath-chair and its occupant. Reflected sunset glints from the nickel-plate of the chair's wheel-spokes.The occupant, owner of the villa, rests her arthritic hands upon fabric woven by a Jacquard loom.These hands consist of tendons, tissue, jointed bone. Through quiet processes of time and information, threads within the human cells have woven themselves into a woman.Her name is Sybil Gerard.Below her, in a neglected formal garden, leafless vines lace wooden trellises on whitewashed, flaking walls. From the open windows of her sickroom, a warm draft stirs the loose white hair at her neck, bringing scents of coal-smoke, jasmine, opium.Her attention is fixed upon the sky, upon a silhouette of vast and irresistible grace—metal, in her l
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