So Jane, with a bit of deft network voodoo, had successfully tracked down Dr. Gerald Mulcahey. She’d gone to his research camp out in the desolate ass end of nowhere, met him, talked to him, and cut a deal with him. She’d redesigned the graphics herself and released them with a new front end over an arts distribution network. And although the whole modern structure of copyright and intellectual property was a complete joke—it had been shattered utterly during the State of Emergency and never successfully reassembled or stabilized, by anybody, anywhere, ever—Jane had actually made some money from doing this. And she’d given Mulcahey royalties.