21
Miller downed his coffee as he and Margot watched the graph on her tablet screen fill up with colored dots. Blue, red, yellow, orange, green, purple, black, and gray.
Smoke had been twitching uncontrollably since they started. Miller almost felt sorry for the guy.
“What is all of this stuff?” Miller asked. “We’re not frying his circuits, are we?”
“There’s more here than I thought,” Margot said. “These are his memories. The memory graph goes from left to right, so if you look at the far left, there aren’t very many dots, which is kind of sad. This is right around the time of the crime—only a couple of dots.”
“Which makes our lives, easier, right?”
“I think so. But if we keep moving over to the right, the memories get more and more clustered. You even get some outliers—I guess those
