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Exerpt from Count Zero, Future of Hacking ?
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"Bobby Pulls a Wilson"
( Extract from the novel Count Zero )
by William Gibson
Transcribed by Shadow Knight on 05/23/90
IT WAS SUCH an easy thing, death. He saw that now: It just happened.
You screwed up by a fraction and there it was, something chill and
odorless, ballooning out from the four stupid corners of the room, your
mother's Barrytown living room.
Shit, he thought, Two-a-Day'll laugh his ass off, first time out
and I pull a wilson.
The only sound in the room was the faint steady burr of his
teeth vibrating, supersonic palsy as the feedback ate into his
nervous system. He watched his frozen hand as it trembled
delicately, centimeters from the red plastic stud that could
break the connection that was killing him.
Shit.
He'd come home and gotten right down to it, slotted the
icebreaker he'd rented from Two-a-Day and jacked in, punching for the
base he'd chosed as his first live target. Figured that was the way to
do it; you wanna do it, then DO it. He'd only had the little Ono-Sendai
deck for a month, but he already knew he wanted to be more than just
some Barrytown hotdogger. Bobby Newmark, aka Count Zero, but it was
already over. Shows never ended this way, not right at the beginning.
In a show, the cowboy h ero's girl or maybe his partner would run in,
slap the 'trodes off, hit that little red OFF stud. So you'd make it,
make it through.
But Bobby was alone now, his autonomic nervous system orverriden
by the defences of a database three thousand kilometers from
Barrytown, and he knew it.. ther was some magic chemistry in
that impending darkness, something that let him glimpse the
infinite desirability of that room, with its carper-colored
carpet, and curtain-colored curtains, its dingy foam sofa-suite,
the angular chrome frame supporting the components of a
six-year-old Hitachi entertainment module.
He'd carefully closed those curtains in preparation for his run,
but now, somehow, he seemed to see out anyway, where the condos of
Barrytown crested back in their, concrete wave to crest against the
darker towers of the Projects. That condo wave bristled with a fine
insect fur of antennas and chicken wired dishes, strung with lines of
drying clothes. His mother liked to bitch about that; she had a dryer.
He remembered her knuckes white on the imitation bronze of the balcony
reailing, dry wrinkle s where her wrist was bent. He remembered a dead
boy carried out of Big Playground on an alloy stretch, bundled in
plastic the same color as a cop car. Fell and hit his head. Fell.
Head. Wilson.
His heart stopped, It seemd to him that it fell sideways,
kicked like an animal in a cartoon.
Sixteenth second of Bobby Newmark's death. His hotdogger's
death.
And something LEANED in, vastness unutterable, from beyond the
most distant edge of anything he'd ever known or imagined, and
touched him.
:::: what are you doing? why are they doing that to
you? Girlvoice, brownhair, darkeyes . . . : killing
me killing me get it off get it off Darkeyes,
desertstar, tanshirt, girlhair -- :::: BUT IT'S A
TRICK, SEE? YOU ONLY THINK IT'S GOT YOU. LOOK.
NOW I FIT HERE AND YOU AREN'T CARRYING THE LOOP.
And his heart rolled right over, on its back, and kicked his
lunch up with its red cartoon legs, galvanic frog-leg spasm
hurling him from the chair and tearing the 'trodes from his
forehead. His bladder let go when his head clipped the corner
of the Hitachi, and someone was saying fuck fuck fuck into the
smell of carpet. Girlvoice gone, no desertstar, flash
impression of cool wind and waterworn stone . . .
This his head exploded. He saw it very clearly, from somewhere
far away. Like a phosphorous grenade.
White.
Light.
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This work is copywrited and such, but as long as the correct
credits are given I beleive no real harm is done.
William Gibson, writes novels about a Dark Future of the world,
after World War III, not 100% fought on the earth, but also
partially fought in a place called Cyberspace, which is a
network of computers all over the word, which is so
sophisticated that it is like an entire world.
His books are very good, mind you they are graphic, as they
contain large amounts of swearing, violence, and sex. ( but
that makes them all the better doesn't it? )
As of today he has 4 Books published.
Burning Chrome ( Book of Short Stories )
Neuromancer ( His most Well Known )
Count Zero
Mona Lisa Overdrive ( His Newest )
If you enjoyed this little excerpt from Count Zero, I would suggest
reading Neuromancer first, then if you like it try picking up the
others. They are good reading, and pass the time great when you are
autodialing some BBS.
SK 03/23/90 10:37:00
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