I think I do. Sly thought, imagining she could feel the weight of the two datachips—the one containing Morgenstern's personnel file, and the other one containing Louis’ encrypted file—in her pocket. Imagination, of course; each chip, even in its carrier, weighed less than a feather. For an instant, she felt an almost overwhelming impulse to confide in Modal, to bounce her suspicions off him. But of course that made no sense. He could just as easily turn round and tell Yamatetsu how much she’d figured out. She shook her head.