Neuromancer (Sprawl, #1)

by William Gibson

neon cityscape, complexity that cut the eye, jewel bright, sharp as razors. “Hey, shit,” the construct said, “those things are the RCA Building. You know the old RCA Building?” The Kuang program dived past the gleaming spires of a dozen identical towers of data, each one a blue neon replica of the Manhattan skyscraper. “You ever see resolution this high?” Case asked. “No, but I never cracked an AI, either.” “This thing know where it’s going?” “It better.” They were dropping, losing altitude in a canyon of rainbow neon. “Dix—” An arm of shadow was uncoiling from the flickering floor below, a seething mass of darkness, unformed, shapeless. . . . “Company,” the Flatline said, as Case hit the representation of his deck, fingers flying automatically across the board. The Kuang swerved sickeningly, then reversed, whipping itself backward, shattering the illusion of a physical vehicle. The shadow thing was growing, spreading, blotting out the city of data. Case took them straight up, above them the distanceless bowl of jade-green ice. The city of the cores was gone now, obscured entirely by the dark beneath them. “What is it?” “An AI’s defense system,” the construct said, “or part of it. If it’s your pal Wintermute, he’s not lookin’ real friendly.” “Take it,” Case said. “You’re faster.” “Now your best de-fense, boy, it’s a good off-fense.” And the Flatline aligned the nose of Kuang’s sting with the