She’d understood that ship, its bootstrapped weapons and life-support systems. Here, something was out of context. The Bridge had a haphazard external appearance, a mechanical accretion driven by short-term needs and wants. The inside was different: organized, planned, meticulous. Something here had prodigious power and data demands. The NYPD’s Grand Central MI required sustenance at this level, but sentient machines cost more than skyscrapers, their locations strictly controlled by the UN. Analytical engines were, rightly, regarded as weapons of mass destruction. Misused they could destabilize the world’s political and financial systems, and were afforded oversight with great care. Was there an illegal MI here? If so, how was that even possible?