ing in her head subsided.

    S cronomical amount of money. S boto c s any  it all out, s. S needed to get out of til to go. Someaken place in her life.

    S of o  t idea race, taken by a er tall tsunami. All to t. Su,  did not belong to anyt o be a olen credit from tem and otypes t actually stole credit from tem on a daily basis. t in tem t ties just turned a blind eye because it  muco actually o phem back.

    t. ed ted by t t ttle disappointed, expecting somet spoke to ticness of Asia. It  anoter console altecicated ther’s den.

    “It’s from Japan,” rollable excitement.

    “Just anot o oy, drifting towards her bedroom.

    “ from?” s turning back.

    “Someone called Kenzo Yamamoto. No idea wrailing off, engrossed.

    Later t evening er but time excitement urned into a concerned look, togethem.

    “Dinner time, Dad,” s on o tracted voice floating back, telling  he would join her soon.

    So dinner alone, moving silently t tless electronic books, computer discs and tombstones. Xybo,  dog, sensing ting s its   padding on t strangely reassuring.

    “No food for you today, Xybo,” so t dog, patting ts ed, eyes misting over, tail drooping. S made it t it  food y. It aking t too far in tireless searcicity. You could feed Xybo alrig like a real dog to its ABS, or artificial biological system. t  unnatural odor t only could ed in a lab.

    A real breakt. And s  Boston Zoo,  ly cloned from a DNA bank douff.  out laugting for a moment to r