TheBlueLineMaglevwhizzedthroughdarktunnelsvibratingwithholovertspulsingdownfromgrime-covereddisplayunits.Caldwellwaswedgedtightlybetweenamiddle-agedChineseladywithanunfortunatelyplacedmoleonherupperlipandarabbimutteringquietlytohimself.Theknapsackwasonhislap,nestledinthecrookofhisarmlikeamothernursingatendernewborn.Hespentafewmomentsraptinthought.Thenithithim.Theywereaftertheconsole.Itwastheonlythingthatmadesense,theonlylooseendthatneededtyingup.ButhowwouldGlyphknowaboutthat?KenzoYamamoto.TheHUB.Itwasallstartingtomakesense.
Thegoonontheplatformwouldbeonthenexttrain.LuckilytheMaglevscamethroughintwo-minuteintervals.Hisassailantwouldn’tknowatwhichstationhegotoff,unlessofcoursetheyhadaccesstoasystemthatwasmonitoringtheCCTVnetworks.HewouldbefineoncehehittheIsleofDogsstation.Caldwelltriedtoputhiscurrentdilemmaoutofhismindandlettheimploringsoundsofadvertisingwashoverhim.
Hewatchedwithdisdaintheflickeringhologramofsomecyberspacemanufacturedstarfloatthroughthecarriage,herlithebodyspeckledwithmissingpixels.Nowthatwasadvertisinginitsrawestform.Andfollowingbehindit,agroupofteenageboys,weirdhaircutsandpaintedup,packingwirelesspersonaljukeboximplantsandsingingalongtothemusic.Henoticedthatmostofthemhadbarcodestattooedontheinsidesoftheirwrists.Theywerethenewpowergeneration,slavestothedigitalmachine.
Caldwelldidn’trecognizethenewfangledcelebrityanddidn’tcare.Inanageofsurgicallyandelectronicallycreatedmediapersonalities,fifteenminuteswasaslongatimeasanyonestayedfamous.Ifyouwerelucky,yourfifteenminutesgotyouenoughmoneytoretirefromtheratrace,havingbarelymadeadentonthecollectiveconsciousness.HedidnotconsidertheseWarholianidolsworthyofhismemoryspace.Didsomethinghappentohimthatcausedhispartialamnesia?Dotheheadacheshaveanythingtodowithit?Thesequestionsetchedthemselvesinhismindoverandoveragainlikealasercreatingtheintricatecircuitryofamicrochip.
Therestofthepassengerswereequallynonchalantasthehologramdisappearedintothenextpartmentwithashudderastheholographicdisplaysswitchedover.Thetransitionofheradolescentfansintothenextpartmentwasalotmoreseamless.
ThegoodcitizensoftheUnionweresomesmerizedbythepersuasivepowerofmediaanditshybridsthattheyscarcelymadeanychoicesthatweren’tadvertisingdriven.Caldwellcouldbarelycontrolhisdisdainforthemediumofadvertisingandrelatedmedia.Thepassivityofitdrovehimtodistraction.Caldwellcouldgoasfarastoclaimthathewasanti-media,atleastthekindthatwasn’tfree-flowinglikecyberspace.
Likeyourtypicalconspiracytheorist,hestronglybelievedthatmediawasthecollectiveeffectofpowerfulconglomeratesimposingtheirwill,throughtherelentlesssacrilegeofadvertising,onapublicthathadsomehowlosttheabilitytothinkforthemselves.Incyberspacetheirpowerwasseverelycurtailedandtheyhadtotrymuchhardertoworktheirevil.Caldwelllikedthatstatusquojustfine.
TheIsleofDogsstationplatformshiftedintoview.Itwastimetomakehismove.Hesteppedoffthedriver-lesstrainasthedoorsswishedopenandscannedthecrowds.WedgedbetweenanampleEasternBlocladywithafaintmoustacheandayounggothicpunkrevivalistwithsurgicallypaintedmakeup,helethimselfmovewiththecrowd.Herealizedthathishairswerestandingonendasheshudderedfreeandbegantocutaswathethroughtheclusteroffleshtowardstheexit.Hegrewincreasinglynervousasheboardedthehugeglasselevators,andcontinuedtoscantheexitingcrowdsastheelevatorcreptverticallyupthesideofthestation.
Fromthevantagepointoftheascendingelevator,withthewonderofmoderndaymutertransportationunfurlingbeforehiseyes,Caldwellsatisfiedhimselfthathewasn’tbeingfollowed,totheextentthatsuchsatisfactioncouldbearrivedat.Maybethirtysecondstoreachtheexitatthetop,thedisfiguredmanontheplatformagoodminute-and-a-halfaway.Themorningcrowdswerebeginningtothicken.Passengersmatchedtowardsexitsandtrains,staredathugedisplayscreensorburiedtheirheadsinnewspapersorStyrofoamcupsofcoffee.
Themassivedisplayspromotedthelatestinconsumergoodsandservices.ThelatestTrans-HumanEnhancementSurgicalProcedure,knownasTHESP,wasbeingtoutedbysomeHarleyStreetoutfitinamaelstromofputer-generatedvoicesandblaringmusic.Belowthisdin,acacophonyofsubliminalmessagespulsated,willingtheprivilegedwithaccesstocredittospendliketherewasnotomorrowandtheunprivilegedtoaddtospiralingpilesofdebit.
Forthosewhocouldn’taffordthenewfangledproductsorthereconfiguredservices,theblackmarketsofPortobelloRoad,CamdenTown,LiverpoolStreetandtheundergroundclinicsoftheDocklandswouldsellyouthesameillusionforafractionoftheprice.Suchwasthepowerheldbybigmediaoverhugeswathesofthepopulacethatforeverynewproductorserviceadvertised,anevennewergraymarketwouldspringupinthedarkzoneswithinamatterofhours.
CaldwellexitedtheIsleofDogsstationwithanotherclassicmaneuver,agreatleapovertheticketbarrier.Hismovestartledayoungmotherwithapale-lookingunderfedbabyinanelectricpushchairmakinganexitthelegalway.TherewasastrongwhiffoftheThamesRiverintheairbutstrangelyithelpedhimsteadyhisnervesandshakeoffthefearinstilledbythedisfiguredmanontheplatform.Caldwellstoppedandscannedthestreetaheadtomakesurethecoastwasclear.
“Whydon’tyoubloodygetaticketlikeeveryoneelse,youmindlessdumbfuck,”theheavily-lipstickedyoungwomanshoutedathimasshewalkedpast,pushingthebaby’spramasthoughitwasaTescosupermarketshoppingtrolley.Shewasprobablyonsomenarcoticthathadtransformedher,anewly-mintedmothernoless,intosometightly-coiledexpletive-ventingconcernedcitizen.CaldwellmutteredanapologyandturnedleftpasttheLondonArena.HewasmoreinterestedindiscerningfromthedisplaywindowofanearbyHabitatstorewhetherhewasstillbeingfollowed.
wＷ w.Xia oshuotxＴ.Net＿T＿xt，小说天堂