She can feel the data crawling all around inside her. She relaxes.
Yes, it's the meaning of the data and, it's her way of taking the data. Its meaning, her way-- twins identical within their visa versa so as to gain at any given moment the imperiled imperfect, the estranged strangled--all holding a nefarious scoundrel at bay for the desirous founding of …what?
She stiffens, looks out the window. Then it's settled.
The colors of theJungle do not devise any change to their long-range scheme. Nothing lurks to blacken everything.
She senses something beyond a simple game of stickball, more complex. She is here at theWorkstation with theNetwork out there on theContinent--the quiet border towns and small prairie towns and spectacular infractions.
Yes, finally, she feels the singularity. It's a want.