The shoebox apartment wasn’t much to look at.  It didn’t even have a window.  It was just a single light bulb, a card table, and a phone.  The only thing she had to look at was Norm pacing and mumbling to himself three feet away.  She knew enough about virtual architecture to know that this room could be any dimensions, filled with whatever they could imagine.  But they needed to remain anonymous and inconspicuous.  Breaking The City’s rules would bring notice.  The phone rang and she answered.
“I understand.  The meeting’s tonight.  You know where.”  She hung up.  “Frank’s in.”

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