“You might begin by explaining this hobby of yours, Mr. Zubov…‘continua enthusiast.’” “You know about the… — William Gibson
“You might begin by explaining this hobby of yours, Mr. Zubov…‘continua enthusiast.’”
“You know about the server?”
“The great mystery, yes. Assumed to be Chinese, and as with so many aspects of China today, quite beyond us. You use it to communicate with the past, or rather a past, since in our actual past, you didn’t. That rather hurts my head, Mr. Zubov."
"The act of connection produces a fork in causality, the new branch causally unique. A stub, as we call them.”
"But why do you call them that?" Lowbeer asked. "It sounds short. Nasty. Brutish.”
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“You’re used to telepresence, then,” Lev said.
“We call it getting a haircut,” Flynne said, giving him a look as she got to her feet, “back in frontier days.”
Conner was in the garden, on hands and knees, snarling at Gordon and Tyenna. They were facing him, side by side, as if ready to spring, their musculature looking even less canine than usual, their stiff tails in particular. Carnivorous kangaroos, in wolf outfits with Cubist stripes.
“What’s he doing out there?” Netherton asked.
“I don’t know,” said Lev, “but they love it.”
Now the two creatures lunged at Conner simultaneously. He fell between them, flailing, wrestling with them. They were making a high-pitched, repetitious coughing sound.
“Ash imagines you a conservative,” Lowbeer said, “or a romantic, perhaps. She sees your distaste for the present rooted in the sense of a fall from grace. That some prior order, or perhaps the lack of one, afforded a more authentic existence.”
“I simply imagine things were less tedious,” Netherton said.
“I personally recall that world, which you can only imagine was preferable to this one,” she said. “Eras are conveniences, particularly for those who never experienced them. We carve history from totalities beyond our grasp."
