Laura turned to the young three-pen cadre on her left. The guy was waving his fingers over Loretta’s tote and looked up guiltily when she asked. "The music? We call it didge-Ital ... dig-ital, seen, D.J.Ital.... Mash it up right on the ship." Yeah. They were doing something awful to poor old Bing while he wasn’t looking. He sounded like his head was made of sheet metal.