'Hey,' he'd said, 'it's me. Case.' The old eyes regarding him out of their dark webs of wrinkled flesh. 'Ah,' Ratz had said, at last, 'the artiste.' The bartender shrugged. 'I came back.' The man shook his massive, stubbled head. 'Night City is not a place one returns to, artiste,' he said, swabbing the bar in front of Case with a filthy cloth, the pink manipulator whining.

They'd left the place littered with the abstract white forms of the foam packing units, with crumpled plastic film and hundreds of tiny foam beads. The Ono-Sen…

The cutting of Sense/Net's ice took a total of nine days. 'I said a week,' Armitage said, unable to conceal his satisfaction when Case showed him his plan for …

They damaged his nervous system with a wartime Russian mycotoxin. Strapped to a bed in a Memphis hotel, his talent burning out micron by micron, he hallucinate…