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ancient Arab physician, a man whose names took up two entire lines. All that elaboration of a subterfuge bothered me, but I didn’t know why.
    The sun had vanished behind the growing October clouds by the time I stepped out of the last VR hallway, and slowly stood and stretched in my study. Father had been correct. There was certainly nothing definite in the UniComm net, nor in those parts of the pubNet, or the OneCys net to which I had access.
    And all I had was a listing of two thousand women whose first or second names were Elysa and those who might have the capability to create an Elysa or the massive histamine-producing nanospray used on me. And those institutions or multilaterals with the possible resources to fund and support such an effort. There were eight multis and three foundations, and three private individuals, one of whom was, not surprisingly, Father. There were nine scientific/medical types with the theoretical background to tackle what I’d specified. There well might be more, given the pre-select tendency to avoid reporting all but the absolutely required.
    I closed my eyes, thinking.
    Father was worried. He wouldn’t have had all the keys waiting. He also had as much as told me that whoever was after me wasn’t, at least to his knowledge, within UniComm, or even known to UniComm. And if he and his staff didn’t know…
    Then…there was Myrto. His reactions had been predictable, and while it was far from sure, I’d gotten the impression that nothing had happened to anyone else on his team. He needed a good methodizer, but I wasn’t irreplaceable. Myrto could find another methodizer, nearly as good, perhaps better.
    So…it seemed unlikely that my work with OneCys was the cause of Elysa’s appearance…not totally definitive, but a good indication. Still…I couldn’t believe that someone had gone to all that effort to stop my edart compositions. There were other composers who were more radical than I, and far more popular.
    I hoped that I hadn’t overlooked something, and worried that my mental faculties weren’t as sharp as I thought they were.
    As I massaged the back of my neck with my left hand, I tried to ignore the burning in my lungs, and to forget that a strikingly beautiful woman had tried to kill me for a reason I couldn’t even guess at.

Chapter 7
    …The perceptual integrative ability test [PIAT] was first developed by Fitzgerald Rachlin [JMSEU, V.1, 242 N.E.] and later refined by Dyris and Janes [JMSEU, V.3, 287 N.E.]. The PIAT consists of a series of pseudo-experiences and an artificial dataset and is administered in a controlled state of sensory deprivation through both a degenerating nanospray and a VR tap.
    The test measures the subject’s ability to integrate diverse perceptual inputs, along a belief axis encompassing artificial norms ranging from verifiable historical environments to artificial cultural constructs…care is necessary because in a suggestible state, belief axes can not only be assessed, but inadvertently modified…
    Dyris’s objections to the potentially confrontational nature of the original constructs led to the revisions and refinements of the later versions of the PIAT, embodied in the changes adopted by TanUy, which have been designed to ensure that the constructs embody no overtly aggressive challenges to the underlying belief system of the subject. Use of the refined system requires baseline reality assessment and psychochemical discernment testing.
    …principal advantage of the revised PIAT is its improved accuracy in determining “raw” perceptual integrative ability…the test has limited applicability, however, because its accuracy is directly based on the precision of the baseline testing, and such testing is an exhaustive and lengthy process, even in the best of medical facilities…
    Diagnostic Aids
WideComm, Vancov
411 N.E.

Chapter 8
    Raven: Vallura, 458 N.E.
    After three days of work, I’d finally finished the review and comp analysis