Mardock Scramble полностью

–That’s right. There are lots of books and dictionaries in here. And I can replay audio and visuals too. More or less any stimulusthat can be processed by the five senses, in fact. But I try not to cram too much in. My snarc abilities seem to suit me better. It’s different with other people, of course—some people find that the more information they’re weighed down with, the more they want to acquire additional information… What about you? Do you want to store something inside yourself?

–No, it’s okay. When I need to use a library, I’ll go to a library.

–I wonder if you’ll be able to stop yourself from becoming like us.

–I’m not sure. I don’t really know what “like us” means.

–Complete Individuals, that’s what I’m talking about, Tweedledee said, as if that phrase explained everything.

Eventually the glass-clad corridor came to a dead end. A sturdy electronic lock was on the door, and Tweedledee had to submit to retina and fingerprint scans to get it to open.

The thick doors slid apart.

–Welcome to the Inner Courtyard. The heart of Paradise.

Balot stared out into an expanse of tropical rainforest. Colorful flowers and fruit spread out before her, as far as the eye could see. She looked up and saw all sorts of trees stretching up to a high ceiling and sensed that there was another ceiling above it, replete with an artificial lighting rig. The light felt just like real sunlight, and there was a certain mellowness in the air. A warm breeze drifted all around, caressing her face and clothes, making her feel extremely comfortable.

–Amazing… Balot spoke her true feelings this time. She was genuinely moved.

–It’s nice here. Tweedledee’s voice was proud, triumphant even, and he snarced the doors so that they closed shut behind him.

A path made out of plastic divided the foliage, and Tweedledee walked down it, heading deep into the undergrowth. Balot followed after him.

Here and there was a clearing. It looked exactly like the sort of conservation area that Balot had seen on television and in magazines. The only difference was that there were big umbrellas in the clearing, a bit like beach parasols, and underneath them were tables and chairs, or in some cases complicated-looking equipment.

They came across the trio of old people that they had bumped into earlier. The man with the hat and the woman with sunglasses lounged back on what looked like deck chairs and were engaged in what seemed like a lively debate with the man in the wheelchair.

They soon passed the group, and Balot followed Tweedledee deeper into the undergrowth. This really was some room. It may have indeed been airtight, but it was such a vast space that it was a struggle for Balot to think of it as such.

Balot suddenly realized that the path was sloping downward. They seemed to be heading underground. But there was no trace of the damp and dark that one usually associated with the underground—this still felt like a lush and beautiful park.

Balot noticed a number of people scattered around, lying under the bowers of the trees, all wearing similar clothes to Tweedledee. They all had unusually pale skin, and some of them were in wheelchairs. They all seemed content to stare up into the sky in silence.

Balot sensed something going back and forth between them, and she realized that they were all deep in conversation.

It was a strange sight. With eyes half closed, barely even twitching, they were engaged in vigorous conversation.

–People who’ve stopped moving, Tweedledee explained.

–Just as I forget to breathe, these people forget to move. Some of them do still want to move about occasionally, so they use wheelchairs.

–They can’t walk anymore?

–Oh, I’m sure they could, if it came down to it. They just don’t really need to.

–So why are you walking about, then?