For a moment, Sly let herself slip into reverie. It didn’t seem so long ago that she’d hung out at another bar like this. Not The Armadillo but its equivalent, the Novo Tengu in the Akihabara district of Tokyo. She remembered the earnest conversations and arguments—sometimes fueled by sake, but more often just by passion for the subject—about the arcana of the Matrix and the philosophy of cyberspace.