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excerpt:"Previously, the richest little girl in the world got upset about moral relativism -- because like all teenagers dating back to Holden, she assumed she invented figuring things out -- so she joined a fundamentalist cult and made a virtual double of herself for some unknown culty reason. Then her boyfriend blew her up, so Dad kidnapped her avatar and put her in a robot body, which didn't work out -- as far as he knew. Actually, it worked pretty well, but he still rent his garments and screamed in the rain and made best friends with some Tauron about it.
That was two weeks ago. Now Zoë's swimming in Cylon red Matrix stuff like the beginning of Robocop, coming in and out of weird dreams where she remembers being Zoë, and their secret virtual clubhouse, and playing with her dog Caesar and brushing her hair and dancing at the club, but also being a killer robot and destroying Serges. (I would say at this point that I would have been fine with it if they'd gone full Robocop and had Drew and Philo drunk and putting tinsel on her head at the Whatever They Call Xmas party, and shots like that. Mostly, more Drew and Philo in any fashion would be good.)
