"Did he say anything?" I wanted to be sympathetic, but I was more interested in Randolph's psyche.
"He just stepped over my legs without a word! Then he looked at his watch and complained—to himself!—that I had 'interrupted his stride frequency,' causing him to miss his elevator! An elevator! Can you believe it? He calculates his life down to the specific elevator car. Not a flight, Anabella. A lift!"
I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing.
*****
Since the honey trap failed, I needed a different weapon. For the past forty-eight hours, I'd been dissecting NeuraCore's technical models and stress-testing every piece of open-source software they'd released.
If I could just get a foot in the door, I knew I could make him listen. I just needed ten minutes. Just ten.
That afternoon, I dro
