This is a week later. I’m sitting at home reading from an encyclopedia I bought with some of my earnings when another letter arrives. By arrives, I mean it’s slid under the door like normal mail, so I leave it there for a while on top of the fresh newspaper. I’m doing some casual studying on the effects of DBD.
   It says that corrupted files and malware can infact do significant damage to a brain. It highlights a case where a perfectly healthy prisoner was installed with a computer virus and developed acute anxiety and depression.
   I’m sort of taken aback by that. Serious damage? You don’t need to download a file for it to give you anxiety and depression. Don't even need a file. My old friends had gotten on just fine doing it themselves. And something about that wording- it spoke about those things like stains on shirts. Things you could just wash out or predictably prevent. It says the slave prisoner eventually committed suicide, which they attribute to the malware. I don’t know about that, man.
   I open the letter and pick up the newspaper. Another disk. Into the computer it goes.
   Summons from Maximum Thought the second week in a row. Another estimated cut in the thousands. I could coast off the last one for a while, but I can’t turn down the opportunity for more liquidity. Last time it was an hour of doing nothing for a good month’s pay.
   I check the newspaper first for the obituaries, then for any ads for a missing person. I didn’t know what I was looking for. Now I’m sure I was looking for any sign of what I had actually done at work that last week. Not that I was in any station to complain- a gig is a gig.
   Regardless, the next meeting was coming up. I bought a fresh graphic long-sleeve for the occasion.