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《上海梦》第1章- Shanghai Dream Chapter 1 Part 3

(2008-08-16 02:47:27)


分类: 科幻
考德威尔想过无休止的夜倒卧于被褥凝视进入太空,燃烧像素pornograms蚀刻字形对他的眼球。作为记忆的疏远和图像褪色,和他即将自杀回来,成为焦点,考德威尔发现自己凝视到旋转的黑洞,这是他的抑郁症。 1抑郁症,这是累积的总和整个一连串的不幸,其中一些他的结论,他将永远不会明白。他不知道如何生活,他已蜕变为这扣瘴原料没有兑现的需要。


考德威尔不知道是否黑客对地下黑客局,枢纽的地位,会怀念他。该枢纽是一个工作委员会和社区在网上,黑客workhouse ,格和信贷来源,无数的联盟黑客和byteboys从维也纳到符拉迪沃斯托克。分数收集从枢纽的地位一直考德威尔在切尔诺贝利鸡肉和比萨饼,为18个月。绝大多数的交易是来自一个神秘的采购背后隐藏的网络防火墙和低水平入侵检测认可机构,使错综复杂的,他们属于一个重大的砾岩与一些藏身之地。


考德威尔作出了生活乘坐控制台该联盟的胶囊酒店。直到最近,他从来没有停留在一个地方的时间比一对夫妇的时间长达数周。他目前的胶囊是唯一的例外, 10个星期在同一个幽闭的石棺,缺乏工作流程和信贷持续手与他目前的状态,血瘀。的目的,他的游牧生活方式已经都留在不断笼罩下方一不愿透露姓名的外衣,并避免形成情绪附件的地方或人。

《上海梦》第1章- <wbr>Shanghai <wbr>Dream <wbr>Chapter <wbr>1 <wbr>Part <wbr>3

Caldwell thought about the endless nights lying on the futon staring into space, the burning pixels of pornograms etching glyphs on his eyeballs. As the memories drifted away and the images faded, and his impending suicide came back into focus, Caldwell found himself staring into the swirling black hole that was his depression. A depression that was the cumulative sum of a whole litany of misfortunes, some of which he concluded he would never understand.He wondered how his life had degenerated into this clawing miasma of raw unfulfilled need.

Caldwell lay inert on the futon watching the green pseudo quartz of the capsule timer usher in his demise. His eyes shifted to the LCD panel set into the plastic ceiling. The sight of the backlit digits of the last units of his credit disappearing into the ether filled him with a strange sense of euphoria. This would be his last capsule hotel. Just a few minutes now and it would all be over he reassured himself. Instinctively, his eyes moved to the transparent black vial sitting on the cigarette-scalded plastic shelf. The poison he’d acquired from the white-haired Georgian in the syringe-scattered back alleys of Oval.

Caldwell wondered whether the hackers on the Hacker Underground Board, The HUB, would miss him. The HUB was a job board and community in cyberspace, a hacking workhouse, gridiron and credit source for countless Union hackers and byteboys from Vienna to Vladivostok. Scores gleaned from the HUB had kept Caldwell in Chernobyl Chicken and pizza for eighteen months. The vast majority of the deals had come from a mysterious procurer hidden behind a network of firewalls and low level intruder detection AIs so intricate that they had to belong to a major conglomerate with something to hide.

The word on The HUB, itself a dynamic piece of community code drifting through cyberspace, was that the buyer was someone on top of the food chain of a major Yakuza controlled Zaibatsu. In this business, you didn’t ask questions. It was hard enough getting into The HUB’s inner circle and once you were there, you did your damnedest to stay there. That meant receiving your electronic briefing and delivering the service, end of story. You kept your mouth shut and it stayed shut even after the credit transaction took place. No questions.

Caldwell had made a living riding the consoles of the Union’s capsule hotels. Until recently, he had never stayed in one place longer than a couple of weeks at a time. His current capsule was the only exception, ten weeks in the same claustrophobic sarcophagus, the lack of workflow and credit going hand in hand with his current state of stasis. The purpose of his nomadic lifestyle had been both to stay continually shrouded beneath a cloak of anonymity and to avoid forming emotional attachments to places or people.


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