Book1-Gridlinked - (EPUB全文下载)

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Gridlinked
Agent Cormac Book 1
Neal Asher
Prologue
(Solstan 2432)
A
blue snow was falling on the roof of the embarkation lounge, where it melted
and snaked across the glass in inky rivulets. Freeman put his coffee on the
table, then slumped in the form chair. He winced at the sudden increased
throbbing behind his eyes, then turned his watery gaze on the other travellers
hurrying across the mosaic floor, their obedient hover-luggage at heel behind
them, and with thoughts like grey slugs he tried to remember exactly what had
happened last night. He distinctly remembered a half-catadapt woman undressing
him in the middle of the dance floor, but beyond that everything was a blur. A
deep feeling of guilty depression settled on him and he tried to distract
himself by reading the brochure entry in his note screen. It took him two
attempts to turn it on.
The Samarkand buffers are galactic upside, which means more energy
comes in than is taken out. This is why the way-station runcible is here rather
than on Minostra. Minostra is only capable of supporting a runcible for local
transport; that is, under 100 light-years. There, the heat pollution of a
galactic runcible would have caused an ecological disaster, whereas on
Samarkand the energy, as heat, is used as the impetus—
‘This
your first time?’
Freeman
glanced across at the apprehensive individual who took a seat next to him.
Typical well-hugger trying to look like a member of the runcible culture, he
thought. The vogue slick-pants and corsair shirt told him all he needed to
know. The Sensic augmentation behind the man’s left ear told him things he did
not want to know. Unlike those who lived for the thrill of new worlds and new
experiences, this guy’s dress was inappropriate and his augmentation a cheap
copy likely to scramble his brains within a month. But then who was Freeman to
judge? He managed to scramble his brains without mechanical aid.
‘No,
been through a few times.’ Freeman returned his attention to his note screen.
Right at that moment he did not feel in a conversational mood. Vaguely he
recalled sweaty nakedness, and wondered if he had screwed her there on the
dance floor. Shit.
—for
a terraforming project. It has been argued that this—
‘Makes
me nervous.’
‘What?
Sorry?’
‘Makes
me nervous. Never understood Skaidon technology, even when I was plugged in.’
Freeman
tried to dispel the laughing face of the cat-woman from his mind.
‘Well,
Skaidon was a clever git even before he hooked up with the Craystein ............

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