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"Layle," said Elsdon hesitantly, "the Codifier would like to speak to you."

Layle put his fingers over his eyes. Mercy help him. Let it not be about the computer.

"It's about your computer—"

Bloody blades.

"—and the office coffee-maker—"

That was not his fault. He had barely gone near the thing.

"—and he said something about your new hybrid patrol car—"

Maybe it was time to check Craigslist. Preferably for a time machine that would transport him back to the pre-electricity era.