The world teetered on the brink of a new, abominably complex zoonotic flu strain from the rainforests of the sss. The System's global map was a skein of potential transmission routes, and Reuben's mind was a whirlpool of DP assignments, vaccine research trees, and diplomatic probes to the Brazilian health ministry. He sat in his study, a room increasingly dominated by the HON, its walls lined with maps and its floor cluttered with cables that provided power to servers humming with the soft, ceaseless toil of the System.
He did not hear the front door open. He did not hear the tentative footfalls in the hallway. He was so absorbed in the data that the soft creak of his study door opening was a gunshot.
Emily was there.
She wasn't mad. That would be easier. She was empty. The vibrant, sma
