Tammo initialized into the world.
It hurt like bloody hell.
Every neuron in his brain was subjected to immense amounts of current and magnetism, verifying his identity.
He shook his head, trying to clear it and succeeding as the security protocol disengaged, satisfied he was, in fact, Tammo McIllheney of Interspace.
He looked around, at the white void of untamed electrons.
It simply wouldn't do.
With a thought, the white vanished, replaced instantly by a baroque library of the Old Imperial style, replete with Irish coffee and a copy of Ulysses.
He sat in the comfortable overstuffed chair and read as he waited.
gone four years, first day back: Zoners still getting shot in Theta :|