I reached into my phone and tapped on an app. A few minutes later the heavy chords of punk guitar filled the room. I reached out to take her hand. “...are to dance?” “I would,” she said, following me out onto the floor. I wondered how she'd dance in those heels, but it turned out it didn't matter. Elizabeth could dance, she was graceful, balanced, and free, moving her body like waves on the sea, liquid and urgent, following the beat perfectly. We danced close, my hands on her hips, and she came. “I’ll bet he doesn’t know that!”“Probably not,” I agreed. “One of the guys out in San Diego worked for World Wide Broadcasting. He’s the one that tied a lot of this together.”“Why wasn’t this released?” Kim wondered.I sighed.“It comes back to something I just told Liz a little while ago,” I told her. “The public doesn’t want a master’s dissertation about things. They want ... snippets. They want a few brief factoids that can be easily verified. It would take two hours and 50 graphs to. More

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