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Tuesday, April 01, 2008

The Cypher's Tale 22 Alt 1 - The Soldier's Tale

index

"Where's Betty?"
"In the gym."
Tyson kept walking. He worked 9 to 5, and it was now 1800 local time.
Tyson was not pleased. In any subsystem, there is a certain tradeoff between efficiency and predictability. Tyson's division was responsible for the use of force, and the larger systems that he worked for required predictability. They paid large sums for predictability.
What's the value of the second best software? Nothing.
What's the value of the second best army?

Tyson, 23, two months older than Betty, wore burn scars on his left hand and cheek from the most recent African wars. He'd fought personally in Thailand and the Middle East. His hair was cut short, thick and brown, except for a fine dark patch on his left temple. His eyes were light blue with a yellow spot where a branch had pierced the right one. They rarely settled on anything. Below, they were hollowed by nights of study.

Moe, 34, studied him. She spent a lot of her time just sitting around the middle of the office, thinking. Her one visible eye drifted down. She licked moist, red lips.

Tyson knew he was being watched. The eyes that never settled on anything saw everything. Inwardly, he smiled.

Outwardly, she thought, he's impassive.

Tyson went downstairs to conduct the defense of Tibet.

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