For the moment theNetwork thinks she is [living in a parent's reality shadow="liars"], wondering if she has created a new time element in theDNA. There are questions of unravelings, messages of distortion.
It from authoritarian places on theContinent, she from her exposed, and yet, protected position here at theOutpost.
It's theContinent, with its wide expanses of space, where the poisons set in. It could never hope to approach the purity of theOutpost, right?
She remains with her logic probability—questions of content bursting in their own ideas of fashion, of theDNA holding up its dreams in theJungle--a capacity for holographic storage while theNetwork carries its own burden of theHumans as if it were Big Bird.
It looks again, then clicks to off.