《The mocking program 》作者： - Alan Dean Foster【EPUB】

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Data Foster Alan Dean.The mocking program / Alan Dean Foster.p. cm.ISBN 0-446-52774-2 1. Police—California—Los Angeles—Fiction. 2. Los Angeles Calif.—Fiction. 3. Twenty-firstcentury—Fiction. 4. Intuition—Fiction. I. Title.PS3556.O756 M63 2002813.54—dc21 2002022851Note: Glossary of terms at end of Book themocking program ONE FIRST THEY TOOK HIS TALK. THEN HIS CARDS. THEN somebody boosted hisbosillosthorough. After that they vacuumed his clothes. Then some buitrees did amuy rapido scope-and-scoopcanyoning him from neck to crotch. His kidneys liver lungs testes and eyes were gone missing. Theydleft the heart. Not much of a demand for hearts these days. Not with good cheap artificial modelsflooding the market. Titaniumor pig—take your choice. After that hed been dracd and boneyed for hisrecyclable blood and marrow. The pitiful shattered remnants of whoever the hell the poor unfortunate hadbeen lay limp as an oily rag in the steadily drumming-down rain denied even the dignity of staining thepavement with blood. Amid flashing lights assembled vehicles and grumbling federales Angel Cardenas stood gazing down atthe carcass imaging in his mind a celestial vision of steaming hot coffee and the old-shoe comfortablebooths of a certain cafe and wondering why the devil he didnt do as Chief Pangborn kept repeatedlysuggesting and take early retirement. Fredoso Hyaki Cardenass assistant rose from his crouch havingfinished making a recording of the gruesome tableau. Hyaki was half Japanese half Peruvian and allhuge. A friendly expansive baby-faced massif of a man in his mid-thirties he very much resembled anIncan Buddha. Despite the cosmic arc of his abdomen he was rock-solid as cured concrete. Gruntingsoftly as he straightened up he stuffed the recorder into a pocket and summed up the crime scene with asingle terse observation.quotJust about enough left for relatives to lay a claim Angel. AngelquotCardenas raised his voice so he could be heard above the Southwest monsoon shower. In the harshnocturnal glow from the nearby commercial complex glistening droplets trickled from the ends of hishangdog mustache. The sweet invigorating rain was the only thing on the street that was uncontaminated.Though if the chemical analyses carried out by the more fanatical Green Verdes and their ilk were to bebelieved the summer downpour failed that test also. Would he ever get used to seeing dead bodies on the street Even after thirty