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Pharmaceutical database. Information about drugs, pharmaceutical companies and products.
ATC. Anatomical Therapeutic Chemical Classification System. Drugs classification system.
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30 views"This is Colin," Bobby said, climbing in beside her."And you know the Finn." "She never guessed, huh?" the Finn asked, putting the car in gear."No," Bobby said, "I don't think so." The young man named Colin was smiling at her."The aleph is an approximation of the matrix," he said, "a sort of model of cyberspace.
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11 views"That's the one with the kids in it." She took off her goggles, and Korolev saw her eyes brimming over with a wonderful lunacy."Well," said Andy, rattling his toolbelt, "you feel like showing us around?" Cyberpunk is a science fiction genre noted for its focus on "high tech and low life".[1] The name is a portmanteau of cybernetics and punk and was originally coined by Bruce Bethke as the title of his short story "Cyberpunk", published in 1983.[2] It features advanced science, such as information technology and cybernetics, coupled with a degree of breakdown or radical change in the social order.[3] Cyberpunk plots often center on a conflict among hackers, artificial intelligences, and megacorporations, and tend to be set in a near-future Earth, rather than the far-future settings or galactic vistas found in novels such as Isaac Asimov's Foundation or Frank Herbert's Dune.[4] The settings are usually post-industrial dystopias but tend to be marked by extraordinary cultural ferment and the use of technology in ways never anticipated by its creators ("the street finds its own uses for things").[5] Much of the genre's atmosphere echoes film noir, and written works in the genre often use techniques from detective fiction.[6] William Gibson's Sprawl trilogy novels are famous early cyberpunk novels."Classic cyberpunk characters were marginalized, alienated loners who lived on the edge of society in generally dystopic futures where daily life was impacted by rapid technological change, an ubiquitous datasphere of computerized information, and invasive modification of the human body." - Lawrence Person[7] I put the shotgun in an Adidas bag and padded it out with four pairs of tennis socks, not my style at all, but that was what I was aiming for: If they think you're crude, go technical; if they think you're technical, go crude.I'm a very technical boy.
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1 views"Look!" Kosmograd was above the coast of California now, clean shorelines, intensely green fields, vast decaying cities whose names rang with a strange magic.High above a fleece of stratocumulus floated five solar balloons, mirrored geodesic spheres tethered by power lines; they had been a cheaper substitute for a grandiose American plan to build solar-powered satellites.The things worked, Korolev supposed, because for the last decade he'd watched them multiply."And they say that people live in those things?" Systems Officer Stoiko had joined Grishkin at the viewport.
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1 viewsResidual images of New York seemed to hover at the borders of her vision; if she closed her eyes, she found herself back in the alley, squatting beside Sally.Sally, who'd sent her away.Who hadn't looked back.Sally, whose name had once been Molly, or Misty, or both.
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0 viewsAnd Lanette, who'd dissolved a matchhead of Memphis black in a cup of Chinese tea about an hour before, did half a crystal herself and then they'd gone out walking, just ghosting the rainy streets together in what felt to Mona like some perfect harmony where you didn't need to talk.And that voice had been right, there was no jangle to the rush, no tight-jawed jitter, just this sense of something, maybe Mona herself, expanding out from a still center.And they'd found a park, flat lawns flooded with silver puddles, and gone all around the paths, and Mona had a name for that memory: the Silver Walks.And sometime after that Lanette was just gone, nobody saw her anymore, and some people said she'd gone to California, some people said Japan, and some people said she'd OD'd and gotten tossed out a window, what Eddy called a dry dive, but that wasn't the kind of thing Mona wanted to think about, so she sat up straight and looked around, and, yeah, this was a good place, small enough that people were kind of crowded in but sometimes that was okay.
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0 viewsSometimes she felt as though she'd had three lives, each walled away from the others by something she couldn't name, and no hope of wholeness, ever.There were the child's memories of the Maas arcology, carved into the summit of an Arizona mesa, where she'd hugged a sandstone balustrade, face into the wind, and felt as though the whole hollowed tableland was her ship, that she could steer out into those sunset colors beyond the mountains.Later, she'd flown away from there, her fear a hard thing in her throat.She could no longer recall her last glimpse of her father's face.
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4 viewsMarie-France's name surfaces briefly, in connection with a Geneva patent trial concerning certain advances in the field of artificial intelligence, and Tessier-Ashpool's massive funding of research in this area is revealed for the first time.Once again the family demonstrates its peculiar ability to fade from sight, entering another period of obscurity, one which will end with the death of Marie-France.There would be persistent rumors of murder, but any attempt to investigate would founder on the family's wealth and isolation, the peculiar breadth and intricacy of their political and financial connections.Angie, screening Becker for the second time, knew the identity of Marie- France Tessier's murderer.
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1 viewsThe one who came was named Mamman Brigitte, or Grande Brigitte, and while some think her the wife of Baron Samedi, others name her "most ancient of the dead." The dream architecture of the Colony rose to Angie's left, a riot of form and ego.Frail-looking neon-embedded replicas of the Watts Towers lifted beside neo-Brutalist bunkers faced with bronze bas-reliefs.Walls of mirror, as she passed, reflected morning banks of Pacific cloud.There had been times, during the past three years, when she had felt as though she were about to cross, or recross, a line, a subtle border of faith, to find that her time with the loa had been a dream, or, at most, that they were contagious knots of cultural resonance remaining from the weeks she'd spent in Beauvoir 's New Jersey oumphor.
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0 views...He grinned at the soft shock of it, his eyes pulled from one new sight to another, so many things, objects he had no name for.
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1 viewsPrior , he said that was his name, like he didn't have a first one.Or like Eddy didn't have a last one.Well, she didn't have a last name herself, unless you counted Lisa, and that was more like having two first ones.She couldn't get much sense of him, in the squat.
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2 viewsThe electricity they were tapping to light the Killing Floor seemed to be an exception to their overall aesthetic, made in the name of...rirtual, sport, art? I didn't know, but I could see that the Floor was something special.I had the look of having been assembled over generations.I held the useless shotgun under my jacket.
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51 viewsMolly, like the girl Mona, is SINless, her birth unregistered, yet around her name (names) swarm galaxies of supposition, rumor, conflicting data.Streetgirl, prostitute, bodyguard, assassin, she mingles on the manifold planes with the shadows of heroes and villains whose names mean nothing to Angie, though their residual images have long since been woven through the global culture.(And this too belonged to 3Jane, and now belongs to Angie.) Molly has just killed a man, has fired one of the explosive fl?chettes into his throat.His collapse against a steel railing suffering metal fatigue has caused a large section of catwalk to tumble to the floor below.
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