Heading through the peaceful woodland, the couple came to another clearing; the first of the subprocessors. Hiding behind the trees was a small gnome who skipped out and asked them the simplest riddle imaginable. What pathetic access defense, Francesca thought. Kindly, she gave the gnome the answer, and the inquisitive pixies lurking behind the older oaks stayed put on their toadstools as the gnome nodded his acceptance. A trace and report program, she guessed. It looked feeble, but that was part of the skill of it. It disarmed a decker’s defenses to be faced with something that looked so pathetic. She was all too aware that the system had imposed its reality upon her perceptions, making it harder for her to give the right responses swiftly enough. Well, then, she just might have to leave some of the answering to Geraint-Taliesin. As they strolled across the clearing, she muttered to alert him. He nodded his head sagely, and they strode out hand in hand.