Read Accelerando for Free Online

ideas salvaged from the risk of tide-pool monopolization, set free to spawn like crazy in the sea of memes.
    On the way back to the hotel, he passes De Wildemann’s and decides to drop in. The hash of radio-frequency noise emanating from the bar is deafening. He orders a smoked doppelbock, touches the copper pipes to pick up vCard spoor. At the back there’s a table—
    He walks over in a near trance and sits down opposite Pamela. She’s scrubbed off her face paint and changed into body-concealing clothes; combat pants, hooded sweatshirt, DM’s. Western purdah, radically desexualizing. She sees the parcel. “Manny?”
    â€œHow did you know I’d come here?” Her glass is half-empty.
    â€œI followed your weblog—I’m your diary’s biggest fan. Is that for me? You shouldn’t have!” Her eyes light up, recalculating his reproductivefitness score according to some kind of arcane fin-de-siècle rulebook. Or maybe she’s just pleased to see him.
    â€œYes, it’s for you.” He slides the package toward her. “I know I shouldn’t, but you have this effect on me. One question, Pam?”
    â€œI—” She glances around quickly. “It’s safe. I’m off duty. I’m not carrying any bugs that I know of. Those badges—there are rumors about the off switch, you know? That they keep recording even when you think they aren’t, just in case.”
    â€œI didn’t know,” he says, filing it away for future reference. “A loyalty test thing?”
    â€œJust rumors. You had a question?”
    â€œI—” It’s his turn to lose his tongue. “Are you still interested in me?”
    She looks startled for a moment, then chuckles. “Manny, you are the most outrageous nerd I’ve ever met! Just when I think I’ve convinced myself that you’re mad, you show the weirdest signs of having your head screwed on.” She reaches out and grabs his wrist, surprising him with a shock of skin on skin. “Of course I’m still interested in you. You’re the biggest, baddest bull geek I know. Why do you think I’m here?”
    â€œDoes this mean you want to reactivate our engagement?”
    â€œIt was never deactivated, Manny. It was just sort of on hold while you got your head sorted out. I figured you needed the space. Only you haven’t stopped running; you’re still not—”
    â€œYeah, I get it.” He pulls away from her hand. “And the kittens?”
    She looks perplexed. “What kittens?”
    â€œLet’s not talk about that. Why this bar?”
    She frowns. “I had to find you as soon as possible. I keep hearing rumors about some KGB plot you’re mixed up in, how you’re some sort of communist spy. It isn’t true, is it?”
    â€œTrue?” He shakes his head, bemused. “The KGB hasn’t existed for more than twenty years.”
    â€œBe careful, Manny. I don’t want to lose you. That’s an order. Please.”
    The floor creaks, and he looks round. Dreadlocks and dark glasses with flickering lights behind them—Bob Franklin. Manfred vaguely remembers with a twinge that he left with Miss Arianespace leaning on his arm, shortly before things got seriously inebriated. She was hot, but in a different direction from Pamela, he decides. Bob looks none theworse for wear. Manfred makes introductions. “Bob, meet Pam, my fiancée. Pam? Meet Bob.” Bob puts a full glass down in front of him; he has no idea what’s in it, but it would be rude not to drink.
    â€œSure thing. Uh, Manfred, can I have a word? About your idea last night?”
    â€œFeel free. Present company is trustworthy.”
    Bob raises an eyebrow at that, but continues anyway. “It’s about the fab concept. I’ve got a team of my guys doing some prototyping using FabLab hardware, and I think we can probably build it. The