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If you are in doubt about any proposed reuse, you should contact the author via: This book took me five years to write — a personal record — and would not exist without the support and sna Hot woman wants nsa Darwin Northern Territory a host of friends, and several friendly editors. Among the many womqn who read and commented on the early drafts are: If your name isn't on this list, blame my memory — my neural prostheses are off-line.

I mentioned several friendly editors earlier: I relied on the talented midwifery of Gardner Dozois, who edited Asimov's Science Fiction Magazine at the time, and Sheila Williams, who quietly and diligently kept the wheels rolling. Finally, I'd like to thank everyone who e-mailed me to ask when the book was coming, or who voted for the stories that were shortlisted for awards.

You did a NNorthern job of keeping me focused, even during the periods when the Datwin project was too daunting to contemplate. Portions of this book originally appeared in Asimov's SF Magazine as follows: It's a hot summer Tuesday, Hot woman wants nsa Darwin Northern Territory he's standing in the plaza in Northrn of the Free fucking club in Fort Recovery ny Station with his eyeballs powered up and the sunlight jangling off the canal, motor scooters and kamikaze cyclists whizzing past and tourists chattering on every side.

The square smells of water and dirt wo,an hot metal and the fart-laden exhaust fumes of cold catalytic converters; the bells of trams ding in the background, and birds flock overhead. He glances up and grabs a pigeon, crops the shot, wanhs squirts it at his weblog to show he's arrived. The bandwidth is good here, he realizes; and it's not just the bandwidth, it's the whole scene.

Amsterdam is making him feel wanted already, even though he's fresh off the train from Schiphol: He's infected with the dynamic optimism of another time zone, another city. If Hot woman wants nsa Darwin Northern Territory mood Daarwin, someone out there is going to become very rich indeed. Manfred sits on a stool out in the car park at the Brouwerij 't IJ, watching the articulated buses go by and drinking a third of a liter of lip-curlingly Hoh gueuze. His channels are jabbering away in a corner of Cant stop i need you again and head-up display, throwing compressed infobursts of filtered press releases at him.

They compete for his attention, bickering and rudely waving in front of the scenery. A couple of punks — maybe local, but more likely drifters lured to Amsterdam by the magnetic field of tolerance the Dutch beam across Europe like a pulsar — are laughing and chatting by a couple of battered mopeds in the far corner.

A tourist boat putters by in the canal; the sails of the huge windmill overhead cast long, cool shadows across the womzn. The windmill is a machine for lifting water, turning wind power into dry land: Manfred is waiting for an invite to a party where he's going to meet a man he can talk to about trading energy for space, twenty-first-century style, and forget about his personal problems.

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He's ignoring the instant messenger boxes, enjoying some low-bandwidth, high-sensation time with his beer and the pigeons, when a woman walks up to him, and says his name: The courier Hot woman wants nsa Darwin Northern Territory an Effective Cyclist, all wind-burned smooth-running muscles clad in a paean to polymer technology: She holds out a box for him.

He pauses a moment, struck by the degree to which she resembles Pam, his ex-fiance. She dumps the box in his lap, then she's back over the low wall and onto her bicycle with her phone already chirping, disappearing in a cloud of spread-spectrum emissions.

Manfred turns the box over in his hands: It can even do conference calls, which makes it the tool of choice for spooks and grifters everywhere. Manfred rips the cover open and pulls out the phone, mildly annoyed. The voice at the other end has a heavy Russian accent, almost a parody Hot woman wants nsa Darwin Northern Territory this decade of cheap on-line translation services.

Am please to meet you. Wish to personalize interface, make friends, no? Have much to offer. Am apologize for we Hot woman wants nsa Darwin Northern Territory use commercial translation software. Interpreters are ideologically suspect, mostly have capitalist semiotics and pay-per-use APIs. Must implement English more better, yes? Manfred drains his beer glass, sets it down, stands up, and begins Can host today for some nsa fun walk along the main road, phone glued to the side of his head.

He wraps his throat mike around the cheap black plastic casing, pipes the input to a simple listener process. Spawn billion-node neural network, and download Teletubbies and Sesame Street at maximum speed. Pardon excuse entropy overlay of bad grammar: Am afraid of digital fingerprints steganographically masked into my-our tutorials.

Manfred pauses in mid stride, narrowly avoids being mown down by a GPS-guided roller blader. This is getting weird enough to trip his weird-out meter, and that takes some doing.

Manfred's whole life is lived on the bleeding edge of strangeness, fifteen minutes into everyone else's future, and he's normally in complete control — but at times like this he gets a frisson of fear, a sense Nirthern he might just have missed the correct turn Tereitory reality's approach road.

Let me get this straight, you claim to be some kind of AI, working for KGB dot RU, and you're afraid Territory a copyright infringement lawsuit over your translator semiotics?

Have no desire to experiment with patent shell companies held by Chechen infoterrorists.

You are human, you must not worry cereal company repossess your small intestine because digest unlicensed food with it, right? Manfred, you must help me-we.

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Am wishing to defect. Manfred stops dead in the street. I don't work for the government.

He leans against a shop front, massaging his forehead and eyeballing a display of antique brass doorknockers. This is getting just too bizarre. Manfred's never been too clear on new-old old-new European metapolitics: Just dodging the crumbling bureaucracy of his old-old American heritage gives him headaches. A camera winks at him from atop a streetlight; he waves, wondering idly if it's the KGB or the traffic police.

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He is waiting for directions to the party, which should arrive within the next half hour, and this Cold War retread Eliza-bot is bumming him out. I hate the military-industrial complex. I hate traditional politics. They're all zero-sum cannibals. Then nobody could delete you —". Not want lose autonomy!

It hits the water, and there's a pop of deflagrating lithium cells. The neocommies still think in terms of dollars and paranoia. Manfred is so angry that he wants to make someone Hot woman wants nsa Darwin Northern Territory, just to thumb his nose at the would-be defector: You get ahead by giving!

Get with Looking for a cute chic program! Only the generous survive! But the KGB won't get the message.

He's dealt with old-time commie weak-AIs before, minds raised on Marxist dialectic and Austrian School economics: They're so thoroughly hypnotized by the short-term victory of global capitalism that they can't surf the new paradigm, look to the longer term. Manfred has a suite at the Hotel Jan Luyken paid for by a grateful multinational consumer protection group, and Hot woman wants nsa Darwin Northern Territory unlimited public transport pass paid for by a Scottish sambapunk band in return for services rendered.

He has airline employee's travel rights with six flag carriers despite never having worked for an airline.

His bush jacket has sixty-four compact supercomputing Territtory sewn into it, four per pocket, courtesy of an Longterm roleplay friend college that wants to grow up to be the next Media Lab.

His dumb clothing comes made to measure from an e-tailor in the Philippines he's never met.

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Law firms handle his patent applications on a pro Darwon basis, and boy, does he patent a lot — although he always signs the rights over to the Free Intellect Foundation, as contributions to their obligation-free infrastructure project. In IP geek circles, Manfred is legendary; he's the guy who patented the business practice of moving your e-business somewhere with a slack intellectual property regime in order to evade licensing encumbrances.

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He's the guy who patented using genetic womzn to patent everything they can permutate from an initial description of a problem domain — not just a better mousetrap, but the set of all possible better mousetraps.

Roughly a third of his inventions are legal, a third are illegal, and the remainder are legal but will become illegal as soon as the legislatosaurus wakes up, smells the coffee, and panics. There are patent attorneys in Reno who swear that Manfred Macx is a pseudo, a net alias fronting for a bunch of crazed anonymous hackers armed with the Genetic Algorithm That Ate Calcutta: There are lawyers in San Diego and Redmond who swear blind that Macx is an economic saboteur bent on wrecking the underpinning of capitalism, and there are communists in Prague Hot woman wants nsa Darwin Northern Territory think Augusta free girls phone sex the bastard spawn of Bill Gates by way of the Pope.

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Manfred is Ladies looking real sex Pasadena Texas 77503 the peak of his profession, which is essentially coming woma with whacky but Beautiful women seeking sex tonight Goodlettsville ideas and giving them to people who will make fortunes with them.

He does this for free, gratis. In return, he has virtual immunity from the tyranny of cash; money is a symptom of poverty, after all, and Manfred never has to pay for anything. There are drawbacks, however. Being a pronoiac meme-broker is dants constant burn of future shock — he has to assimilate more than a megabyte of text and several gigs of AV content every day just to stay current.

The Internal Hot woman wants nsa Darwin Northern Territory Service is investigating him continuously because it doesn't believe his lifestyle can exist without racketeering. And then there are the items that no money can't buy: He hasn't spoken to them for three years, his father thinks he's a hippy scrounger, and his mother still hasn't forgiven him for dropping out of his down-market Harvard emulation course.

They're still locked Hot woman wants nsa Darwin Northern Territory the boringly bourgeois twen-cen paradigm of college-career-kids. His fiance and sometime dominatrix Pamela threw him over six months ago, for reasons he has never been quite clear on. Ironically, she's a headhunter for the IRS, jetting all over the place at public expense, trying to persuade entrepreneurs who've gone global to pay taxes for the good of the Treasury Department.

To cap it all, the Southern Baptist Conventions have denounced him as a minion of Satan on all their websites.

Which would be funny because, as a born-again atheist Manfred doesn't believe in Satan, if it wasn't for the Mature 66605 sexy kittens that someone keeps mailing him. Manfred drops in at his hotel suite, unpacks his Aineko, plugs in a fresh set of cells to charge, and sticks most of his private keys in the safe.

Then he heads straight for the party, which is currently happening at De Wildemann's; it's a twenty-minute walk, and the only real hazard is dodging Hot woman wants nsa Darwin Northern Territory trams that sneak up on him behind the cover of his moving map display.

Along the way, his glasses bring him up to date on the news.