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blackboard noise that made Barry wince. But he was puzzled:
the noise wasn't mechanical  it sounded like some nightmare
bird had got itself trapped within the motherboard and was
trying to get out. Then, as the squealing grew louder, Louise's
yellow and pink desktop started to fragment, as if a virus had
got into the system, before the random pixels turned into an
image of purgatory: flames and pits of molten lava, depicted
with terrifying reality and a very convincing sense of 3D, and
screams that seemed to come from a far better sound chip than
Louise's computer possessed.
Barry grabbed Louise's hand and pulled her away. Barry
didn't really want a ringside view of hell. But he was
transfixed; he could hear the damned souls screaming, he could
see tiny little stick people burning alive in rivers of blood-red
fire.
46 
They both jumped even further back as the holographic
flames suddenly erupted from the screen in a searing volcano.
Barry watched in disbelief, as they burned up and around and
actually seemed to flow around the computer, flowing over its
black casing before being absorbed back into it with a sucking
sound. And then a dark shadow, both bat-like and spiky, pulled
itself from the screen  drawing the brilliant colours into itself
and then hovering about the computer like a flapping, burning
bird of prey.
And then the bird exploded in a soundless burst of scattered
light, making both Barry and Louise shut their eyes.
Please God, let it be over, prayed Barry. And then he
opened his eyes. The screen was black, the little green system
light dark. Under other circumstances, he would have phoned
up Dave Richards and asked him what to do, but Barry
doubted that it would make the slightest sense to anybody else.
And he refused to move anyway; he decided to allow his brain
to try to make some sense out of what he thought he had just
seen.
`What  what was that?' whispered Louise. 'It looked like
some sort of hologram.' She shook her head. 'What the hell is
Chapel up to?'
`Hell is the operative word, Lou.' He leaned over and gave
the casing a tentative prod. Then he sighed as he pulled his
finger away without suffering any ill effects. `Whatever it was,
it might have fused the transformer.' He grabbed a screwdriver
from the cup of pens, pencils and other useful equipment that
stood next to the computer. 'I'll take the back off and have a
nose around.'
Half a minute later he had unscrewed all six screws, and
carefully removed the back of the computer's flat system unit.
And then stared at the interior in soundless surprise. It just
wasn't possible.
Instead of the expected motherboard, printed circuitry and
other assorted technology, the computer's system unit was
filled  stuffed, even  with some kind of blue-black fabric,
embroidered with circuit-like tracings of silver and gold. He
poked it; it seemed harmless enough. But totally and utterly
inexplicable.
47 
Barry swallowed. 'Er, Lou, you might want to take a look at
this.'
48 
Three
David Harker replaced the receiver with an angry thump. The
news was bad enough as it was; but having to relay it to
Chapel, who was already in a foul mood because of that stupid
bitch, Travers . . .
`That was the security sweep report, no doubt?' asked
Chapel, expectantly.
Harker nodded. Chapel wasn't one for preamble or polite
conversation, but, then again, neither was he. `Something's
missing.' Everything of value in ACL  from packets of printer
paper to Tablettes and printers  was tagged electronically, and
the security sweep compared its recorded inventory against
what it scanned. And tonight it had discovered a discrepancy,
and had phoned Harker to tell him  with all the welcome of a
double-glazing salesman.
Chapel sighed and pushed himself out of the chair. `This
really isn't my day, is it? Let me guess: one of our ex-
employees has decided to increase their severance payout and
leave here with some of my fixtures and fittings.' He groaned
and rubbed his high forehead. `What's missing, then? A
Tablette? A box of flopticals?'
`One floptical.' This is it, decided Harker. This is where
everything goes pear-shaped. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]