Elsewhere
The software stuttered to a halt.
You there?
Anyone?
Hello?
A few self-diagnosis tests revealed that not only was the terminal shorted out, it was missing entirely. The space-time-wishful thinking anomaly that was Loki’s house had fallen apart at last.
And the Trans Am car was gone. Had to watch that Virgil every damn moment to keep track of him.
The Software that Runs the Universe again contemplated Jeremy’s index. The thing continued to grow, collecting and collating. It roared through Pentagon firewalls as easily and quickly as it plunged down f*******:, of course any decent hack could do that. Electronic libraries were pillaged so fast that the sacking of Rome plodded by comparison.
Each new datum was logged, cataloged, cross-indexed. Patterns emerged. What was invisi
