Suzanne nodded. She wondered if "a few hardcore geeks" summed up the total audience for this project in any event. She didn't mention it, though. Lester's brow was so furrowed you could lose a dime in the crease above his nose. "Well, I'm sure you'll get it," she said. "Yeah. It's just a matter of getting at the boot-loader. I could totally do this if I could get at the boot-loader." Suzanne knew what a boot-loader was, just barely. The thing that chose which OS to load when you turned it on. She wondered if every daring, sexy technology project started like this, a cranky hacker muttering angrily about boot-loaders. Suzanne missed Russia. She'd had a good life there, covering the biotech scene. Those hackers were a lot scarier than Lester and Perry, but they were still lovable and fascinating in their own way. Better than the Ford and GM execs she used to have to cozy up to. She'd liked the manic hustle of Russia, the glamour and the squalor. She'd bought a time-share dacha that she could spend weekends at, and the ex-pats in Petersburg had rollicking parties and dinners where they took apart the day's experiences on Planet Petrograd. "I'm going out, Lester," she said. Lester looked up from the DiaB and blinked a few times, then seemed to rewind the conversation. "Hey," he said. "Oh, hey. Sorry, Suzanne. I'm just -- I'm trying to work instead of think these days. Thinking just makes me angry. I don't know what to do --" He broke off and thumped the side of the printer. "How's Perry getting on with rebuilding?" "He's getting on," Lester said. "As far as I know. I read that the Death Waits kid and his people had come by to help. Whatever that means." "He freaks me out," Suzanne said. "I mean, I feel terrible for him, and he seemed nice enough in the hospital. But all those people -- the way they follow him around. It's just weird. Like the charismatic cults back home." She realized she'd just called Russia "home" and it made her frown. Just how long was she going to stay here with these people, anyway? Lester hadn't noticed. "I guess they all feel sorry for him. And they like what he has to say about stories. I just can't get a lot of spit in my mouth over the ride these days, though. It feels like something we did and completed and should move on from." Suzanne didn't have anything to say, and Lester wasn't particularly expecting anything, he was giving off a palpable let-me-work vibe, so she let herself out of the apartment -- her apartment! -- and headed out into the shantytown. On the way to the ride, she passed the little tea-house where Kettlewell and Tjan had done their scheming and she suddenly felt very, very old. The only grownup on-site. She was about to cross the freeway to the ride when her phone rang. She looked at the face and then nearly dropped it. Freddy was calling her. "Hello, Suzanne," he said. The gloat in his voice was unmistakable. He had something really slimy up his sleeve. "How can I help you?"