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He repaired the machine. No one among us was able to do it. But he affirms it used to be his job, in the beginning. And the processor wouldn't let us in. I should be thankful to him, but I can't.

First his rates are prohibitive. It's only because we were in a dead-end situation and his reputation is faultless. And his arrival was providential, a stroke of luck.

Maybe not that lucky. Someone this level certainly doesn't wander around. Anyway, the price is too high.

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Processeur

And his style gets on my nerves. His way of wearing implants. Too ostentatious. Hi you amateurs, here comes Mr I'm-not-anybody. Up to his working routine. No one reads the maker's language. Not even the processor. Binary, maybe, it's useless but it stays coherent; but this mashing of signs, it's almost obscene. A machine shouldn't work that way.

And why doesn't it use mnemonics?

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I'm sure he doesn't read the text. I've got facts to back it up: a line was missing. There's just a system we know about to mark blocks. I first understood with binary. The three in the second block was missing. And all his blocks featured three lines. I recorded it but the system didn't keep anything. Wrong handling, I did it too fast, badly adjusted. Or maybe he blocked the supervision. He can do it. We would have had hints about his repair secrets.

One thing worries me though. If he doesn't read the language -and nobody does- then what, what did he put instead of the missing line?



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