She knows, now, absolutely, hearing the white noise that is London, that Damien's theory of jet lag is correct: that her mortal soul is leagues behind her, being reeled in on some ghostly umbilical do...
She hung up before he could say goodbye. Stood there with her arm cocked, phone at ear-level, suddenly aware of the iconic nature of her unconscious pose. Some very considerable part of the gestural l...
She held out her hands, palms up, the white fingers lightly spread, and with a barely audible click, ten double-edged, four-centimeter scalpel blades slid from their housings beneath the burgundy nail...
Roppongi is an interzone, the land of gaijin bars, always up late. I’m waiting at a pedestrian crossing when I see her. She’s probably Australian, young and quite serviceably beautiful. She wears very...
Music was strange that way though; there were people into any damned thing, it seemed like, and if you got enough of them together in one bar, she guessed, you could have a pretty good time.
I’m not Wintermute now. So what are you. He drank from the flask, feeling nothing. I’m the matrix,
If you fancy resenting the tedious, I recommend intentional communities, particularly those led by charismatics. You
INTO HER DARKNESS, a churning synaesthesia, where her pain was the taste of old iron, scent of melon, wings of a moth brushing her cheek. She was unconscious, and he was barred from her dreams.
I have often raised an eyebrow at hearing him sing, as I push a cart down some Safeway aisle, of the spiritual complexities induced by he admixture of Cuervo Gold, cocaine, and nineteen-year-old girls...
He’d lived for so long on a constant edge of anxiety that he’d almost forgotten what real fear was.
Her fingers found a random second stud and she was catapulted through the static wall, into cluttered vastness, the notional void of cyberspace, the bright grid of the matrix ranged around her like an...
Fuck it. Just fuck it.
Freeside is Las Vegas and the hanging gardens of Babylon, an orbital Geneva and home to a family inbred and most carefully refined, the industrial clan of Tessier and Ashpool.
Don’t anticipate outcome, the man said. Await the unfolding of events. Remain in the moment.
Do you always wear Malaysian imitations of Brooks Brothers blue oxford button-downs, Mr. Laney? Laney had looked down at his shirt, or tried to.Malaysia?The stitch-count's dead on, but they still have...
Burgeoning technologies require outlaw zones, that Night City wasn’t there for its inhabitants, but as a deliberately unsupervised playground for technology itself.
[Slitscan's audience] is best visualized as a vicious, lazy, profoundly ignorant, perpetually hungry organism craving the warm god-flesh of the anointed. Personally I like to imagine something the siz...
You're from the future, Mr Netherton?Not exactly, he said. I'm in the future that would result from my not being here. But since I am, it isn't your future. Here.
You are exhibiting symptoms of urban singles angst. There are cures for this. Drink up. Go.
We monitor many frequencies. We listen always. Came a voice, out of the babel of tongues, speaking to us. It played us a mighty dub.