“You’re lightyears ahead of anything I can get ahold of, Star, so I’m afraid I can’t give you as much processing power as you have in your real body, even using the whole in-house network as a Beowulf,” Bran’s voice echoed in her mind. He was right, it was like trying to run in a swimming pool.
It occurred to her that if he had her hooked up to the whole system, whatever files were on the network, she could access them. One of the first she ran across was the personnel files. Jason, she couldn’t find, but she did hit paydirt fairly quickly.
“Bronislaw Wlodzimierz Maciejewski… No wonder you ended up a mad-scientist-type holed up in a warehouse.”
“Found my personnel file, eh? Not much interesting there really.” he said, sounding nervous. She soon figured out why.
“Parkinson’s disease, at age twenty-four…” she murmured, stunned, before diverting from what had to be a delicate subject. “When’ll this be done?”
“I already finished actually,” he said. “You didn’t notice?”
Shortly, she was back in her body.