[The cover shows an aging Doctor Developer in a prison cell on
the left side, and outside the wall is a small almost toy-like
robot. He appears to be talking to it. "DOUBLE SIZED SPECIAL!"]

____________________________________________________________________________
.|, COHERENT An ASHistory Series --+-------------------------------------------------------------------------
'|` SUPER STORIES Special #1 - Cameryn By Any Other Name
Featuring Doctor Developer copyright 2023 by Andrew Burton ____________________________________________________________________________

This reprint series has brought up the turn of the century shake-up at Coherent Comics before (notably https://www.eyrie.org/~dvandom/ASH/CSS29 - "Leftovers"), but we weren't kidding about it being tumultous. In fact, the Godmarket wasn't the original idea for shaking up the line, editorial asked some of its top writers to pitch ideas for ending an age and starting
another.
The writer of the Lady Lawful and Doctor Developer title at the time
went beyond the pitch level, and scripted an entire storyline in the hopes
that it would be picked and other titles incorporate the "Benefactor Crisis" concept. "Benefactor" was a placeholder name, the intent had been for some extablished hero, preferably a low-selling one, to be slotted into the role, revealing hidden powers as needed in order to be the threat the storyline demanded. Despite the work put into this, editorial decided that the
Godmarket would require fewer changes to existing plotlines, using the
existing encroachment of the gods in the main Academy of Super-Heroes and Kansas City ASH titles as a premise for a near-apocalypse.
The LL&DD writer salvaged a few concepts from the extended pitch for the chronologically final issue of the title, LL&DD #9's "Other Family," (https://www.eyrie.org/~dvandom/ASH/LLDD9) and all subsequent stories were written to fill in gaps here and there in the series timeline. Despite
Doctor Developer himself having permission from editorial to survive the
crash of the Godmarket, his writer had trouble writing what he felt would be
a broken man, although The Reverse Engineers eventually came out of the ruins of Doctor Developer's life. There's also indications that the story you're about to read isn't the only work done for this abandoned premise, if we find more we'll bring them to you, the readers.
Thus, what makes this Special so special is that it's not a reprint, because this material was never published before! Also, it's rather longer than our usual offerings. Enjoy!

============================================================================

The charred half of Benefactor's body that survived the hyperspace window's flickering collapsed to the ground. The one eye that remained in normal space looked around, wide and frightened. Had any part of his
brainstem survived, Benefactor might have let out a deathcry. His eye was
all that worked.
This was immaterial to Doctor Developer. The moment he was sure the superhuman was no longer a threat, his attention turned to Lady Lawful. Benefactor's last attack sent her flying into a console. As he rushed to her side, he was concerned to see the console was crushed.
She was breathing. He could see her chest moving.
Stepping closer to feel for her pulse, Doctor Developer's foot crushed
an errant component dislodged by her impact. The noise was little more than
a crackle, but Lady Lawful's eyes snapped open.
"No!" she moaned. It was meant to be more forceful, but a wince
disrupted her battlecry. Her pained expression softened and her eyes focused on Doctor Developer. "Deedee? Where is he?"
"Benefactor's dead," Doctor Developer said flatly. He pointed to the
pile of flesh across the spacious control room.
Lady Lawful shifted so she could stand. One arm hung limply as she got
to her feet, and she favored one leg once she was up.
"We should get you out of here," Doctor Developer said. He stepped
closer to Lady Lawful, and she looped an arm over his shoulder. She ignored his suggestion and moved to better see Benefactor's remains.
"What did you do?" she asked.
"I used the ship's hyperdrive to send half of him somewhere else,"
Doctor Developer explained. "While you were..."
Lady Lawful's voice was flat as she spoke, "Getting stomped."
"Ah, yes," Doctor Developer continued, "I was able to access his ship's navigation system. It took a little work, but, ah, I overrode the safeties, bridged the targeting computer, and..."
"You saved the world," Lady Lawful stated. "You saved us, Deedee."
Doctor Developer didn't immediately reply. "I saved you, Jenny, that's all that matters."
The full scale consequences to ending Benefactor's life were slowly dawning on him. Saving Lady Lawful, Jennifer, his wife was what filled the totality of his consciousness. Until she stood with an arm around his
shoulder and he knew she was safe, there was no room for anything else.
Saving the world was probably a good thing in the long run. That would remain to be seen. Benefactor had many friends and fans. He wasn't sure
what the consequences of an ex-villain killing one of the world's premiere heroes would be. There was precious little evidence, aside from his and Jennifer's word, that Benefactor was behind the invasion.
Time would tell.
"No, Cameron," Jennifer spoke, shaking him out of his reverie. She unwound her arm from Cameron, and moved to stand in front of him. With her good arm, she took Cameron't hand and put it on her stomach. "You saved us." Her eyes were filled with meaning and were starting to fill with tears.
Cameron wanted to ask if she meant what he thought she meant, but a crashing sound interrupted him. People flooded into the room: other heroes, army personnel, and a few people in black suits and dark sunglasses. A medic and another heroine stepped between Doctor Developer and Lady Lawful. They would look after her. That was important now. That was all that was important.

* * * *

The days after any crisis always left Cameron feeling unsettled. After
a heist or pulling off a scheme, he knew how to act. In fact, he planned for it. You always budgeted time, money, and other resources so you could stay
off the streets while the good guys were on the hunt. Post-scheme downtime
was the best time to get caught up with side projects and started on the next one.
When you were one of the good guys, you couldn't schedule for the crises or the cleanup afterwards. It would have been nice if Benefactor sent out invitations with a date and time for his treacherous alien invasion. If he had, Cameron would have ordered a new refrigerator before going off on a three-day quest to save the planet.
Instead, upon returning home with Jennifer from an overnight hospital stay, to make sure she and her passenger were healthy, Cameron found himself cleaning out rotten food and soured milk. He took some solace knowing he was saving Jennifer from the task, but it was at best a small comfort. He would rather be up in the bedroom with her taking a nap than handling slimy lunch meat.
That was another nice thing about executing schemes, you always got
plenty of sleep before and after. There was time to formulate elegant solutions. With a crisis it was a rushed death march to cobble together some new solution from half-understood principles before the world ended. Then
you had to debrief, sit in an uncomfortable hospital room chair, and wonder what unseen physical trauma might end the life of your unborn child before
they even had fully formed limbs.
Schemes and heists were much better.
If he was going to get into the parenting business, then he was going to have to find a better way of dealing with these crises that came about with
no warning. Cameron was no expert when it came to children, but he had
serious doubts that children possessed the adaptability for both parents to disappear for days on end while the world was in apocalyptic turmoil. He
would confirm, but that felt like when parents should be around the most.
Cameron was well past the disposal stage of cleaning out the broken refrigerator, well into the decontamination scrubbing of its innards, and
about halfway to the point where he wanted to just buy a new appliance when
the doorbell rang. Whoever was paying a visit picked a lousy time.
"I'm coming," Jennifer called from upstairs.
"Don't get up," Cameron called back. He yanked the rubber gloves off
his hands and chucked them into the open refrigerator. He knew Jennifer
could hear him, but he doubted she would listen. It was something of a small miracle, and a grim indication of how injured she was, that the doorbell was the first excuse she took to get out of bed.
Cameron reached the door just as she was walking slowly down the stairs. All things considered, Jennifer was in relatively good condition after going toe-to-toe with someone who's upper physical limits included lifting railroad cars without breaking a sweat. Her injuries amounted to a dislocated
shoulder, a couple of hairline fractures in her wrist, and one badly sprained ankle.
It had been almost two decades since her baseline enhanced physical abilities manifested, at which point she had effectively become immune to everyday injuries. That increased tenfold when she put on her Enhancement Belt. Jennifer was taking her rediscovered mortality in stride, but Cameron could tell she was having to adjust.
"Jack?" Cameron asked as he opened the door to see Jack Stryker, the
head of his and Jennifer's super-team. Cameron couldn't think of a time when he'd seen Jack outside of a briefing room, office, or some equally official setting.
"May we come in?" Jack asked, polite but to the point. Cameron liked
that about him. He wasn't sure what to think of the dark suited agent who followed Jack.
"Please, come in," Jennifer said. "Please pardon the chaos. Our refrigerator died right before we got the call a few days ago. We're dealing with our own crisis, well, Cameron is."
"I...we...are the ones who need the pardoning," Jack replied.
"Actually, before I get to official business, I hear congratulations are in order." Jack smiled at Cameron and nodded toward Jennifer. "You're expecting."
Jennifer blushed and grinned. "The doctors confirmed it. We're having
a baby. I found out a couple of days before..." she trailed off.
"And didn't say anything because the world is more important," Jack finished.
Jennifer nodded. "A week ago it made more sense, but now it feels reckless and silly hearing it out loud."
While many of the subtleties and emotional rationale behind husbandly duties still eluded Cameron, he worked with enough black box systems to be comfortable with understanding how to interact with a system even if you
didn't understand the complete internal workings. When Jennifer said
"reckless and silly" and looked at the floor, Cameron knew it was his time to take her hand and squeeze it. When she looked back up at him and returned
the squeeze, Cameron felt himself relax.
"May we sit down?" Jack asked.
"Yes, please." Jennifer replied. "Take the couch. I'll go get..."
"I've got it," Cameron interrupted. "Take the computer desk chair.
I'll grab one from the kitchen."
Once everyone was settled, Jack began. "Like I said before, please
pardon my and Agent Kay's intrusion. This should be a happy time, especially with your good news, but I'm afraid there's no time for that."
"Jack, what's going on?" Jennifer asked.
Cameron knew. "Benefactor."
Jennifer shook her head. "Not unless he's a zombie." Her eyes widened. "Is he a zombie?"
Jack looked at Agent Kay, and they both smiled grimly. "That might be easier to deal with, but, no," Jack answered. "Benefactor was more than one man, he was an institution. There are entire branches of the DSHA, Pentagon, and several corporations dedicated to supporting him. People have built
entire careers around Benefactor being one of the great heroes of the world."
Agent Kay finally spoke, "Powerful people. Political people."
"I'm sorry," Jennifer said, "I don't mean to be rude, but who are you?" She looked at Agent Kay.
Jack answered, "Trust me when I say Kay is on our side. The only reason I'm here tonight is because he's not on the other side, but I can't say much past that."
"When are they coming to arrest us?" Cameron asked.
"Tomorrow morning, around nine," Jack answered.
"Arrest us? For what?" Jennifer asked incredulously. "You three seem
to have been invited to a meeting that I missed."
"There, ah, was no meeting," Cameron told her. "It's just obvious."
"Not to me," Jennifer snapped.
"Cameron, it's not obvious," Jack said patiently. "It's obvious to you, and I suspect you've been waiting for this to happen for a while, but I'm a paranoid freak and I didn't see it coming until Kay reached out."
The part of Cameron's brain that analyzed super-powers wanted to explain to Jack that he didn't see it coming because the organizations built up
around Benefactor were more abstract that the groupings on which his team-building powers worked. That part was overridden by another part, the
one that could tell Jennifer was edging away from being angry and dangerously close to an uncharted emotional territory. Cameron could only guess that was panic.
"Tell me if any of this is wrong." Cameron pulled his chair closer to Jennifer. "If Benefactor is a bad guy, then a lot of people, intentionally
or not, are bad guys. If Benefactor died a hero because, uh, an ex-villain's weapon mis-fired during a fight, then it's in their best interest to make
sure Benefactor's death is avenged."
Kay nodded. "That's about it."
"That's not what happened," Jennifer said, paused, and then added, "but there's no proof. It's our word against a corpse, and Cameron's already explained what he did." She grabbed Cameron's hand, "Deedee, I know what you're thinking, and...no."
"It's the only way," Cameron told her. "Either I turn myself in, or
they show up here and arrest both of us."
Jennifer didn't look anywhere close to panicking when she said, "Let
them come."
"That's what they want," Jack said. "Arresting Lady Lawful and Doctor Developer makes this a spectacle, and it puts you both on the defensive."
"We've faced worse," Jennifer laughed bitterly, "we just cut worse in half."
Cameron's voice was angry when he spoke, which caught everyone in the
room by surprise. "I cut worse in half, Jenny! You were unconscious after Benefactor threw you and our kid across the room. This isn't something we
can punch or shoot or trap to beat." Cameron wanted to scream about the
cruel paradox of it all. "They're coming at us with the very thing we risked our lives to save."
The room fell silent. Doubt began to creep in around the edges of Cameron's mind, but he knew he was right. Letting the vestiges of Benefactor set the initial conditions would ensure complete defeat. If they could upset those plans, then there was a chance.
Cameron stood up. "Jack, if I turn myself in tonight will that prevent them from coming after Jenny?"
Jack and Kay looked at each other. Jack answered, "Probably. Yes, that would work. It has to be tonight."
"Deedee..."
"Then if you'll excuse me," Cameron said as he stood up, "I need to buy
a refrigerator." Cameron walked out the kitchen door.

* * * *

Jennifer was sitting on the stairs when Cameron returned. After he just walked out, Jennifer spent several minutes speaking with Jack and Kay about what was going on. By the time they left to do whatever they could, she was still at a loss. What left her the most numb was Cameron's apparent
fatalistic view of the situation.
Cameron came through the kitchen door. He didn't see Jennifer at first, and started looking through the stapled papers in his hands. Once he
finished checking them over, Cameron moved toward the stairs. That was when
he saw Jennifer.
"I thought you'd already turned yourself in," she said. Jennifer hated how pathetic that sounded.
"No," Cameron replied, "I bought a refrigerator." He showed her the bundle of papers, which turned out to be a bill of sale from a local hardware store that she thought of as Cameron's clubhouse. "They're going to deliver
it Saturday."
Jennifer started to stand, but Cameron moved a little faster and sat
down next to her.
"Don't do this, Cameron McKay," she said sternly. No pet names. No joking. She had to make him understand they could fight this.
"I have to," Cameron replied.
"Why?" she asked, her voice growing irritated. "Why will you go into battle against an invasion force led by someone who could crush your head in his hands, but you're going to give up because some politicians want to keep their jobs?"
Cameron looked genuinely confused. Normally his face was almost blank, save for a few microexpressions which Jennifer knew by heart. For his face
to look this confused, Jennifer realized they were having two different conversations.
"I'm not giving up," Cameron told her. In what Jennifer would always remember as Cameron's most empathetic gestures, he asked, "Do you know how scared I was last night when you were being examined?"
Jennifer shook her head. "No, tell me."
"I know what your physical limits are, Jenny," Cameron explained. "I
know exactly how much pressure Benefactor put on your wrist to crack those bones. I know you'll heal from that, but what about this?" He touched her stomach. "How would you react if it didn't survive? How would I react?
I've never been more unsure and frightened in my life, Jenny."
Jennifer hugged Cameron with her good arm.
"I'm not giving up," he told her. "If it was just me, I'd disappear and go hideout in Detroit. They'd never find me. If it was just the two of us, we'd go on the offensive."
"But it's not just us," Jennifer spoke quietly.
"We have to have a backup so that at least one of us is free to..." Cameron trailed off. "It makes more sense for the ex-villain to go to court than the pregnant super-hero. They won't come after you if I make the first move."
Jennifer sniffed and put her head on Cameron's shoulder. "They'll come after you twice as hard."

* * * *

Cameron knew from associating with super-villains that the wheels of justice moved slowly, but experiencing it first-hand was something very different. The few times he actually got caught during his days as a
villain, he escaped custody before arraignment. Now that he decided to go through with the trial, it felt glacial.
By the time he went through the arraignment, pretrial, jury selection,
and the case had a date, Jennifer was no longer able to hide her pregnancy in public. Thanks to a really good look-a-like patrolling as Lady Lawful, the general public didn't put together that Doctor Developer and Lady Lawful were anything more than colleagues. There was always the concern that Lady Lawful might have to testify, but Cameron's lawyers dug up an obscure law that
allowed for closed-circuit testimony written to protect a hero's secret identity.
Once the actual trial began, Jennifer was into her second trimester.
None of her clothes fit. Between court days and strategy sessions with lawyers, Cameron and Jennifer tried to squeeze in preparations for the baby. Putting up wallpaper, building cribs, and stocking up on diapers were small, domestic escapes from the external stressors.
Even obstetrician visits felt like vacations.
"Do you want to know the sex?" the ultrasound technician asked.
Jennifer had thought about this since her last check-up. She still
wasn't sure.
"What about you?" Jennifer asked Cameron.
His lawyers had been able to get the trial to take a recess long enough for she and Cameron to go to her obstetrician, which was something of a miracle. She didn't feel right answering without his input.
Cameron looked thoughtful before answering. "I like having as much information as possible," he answered, "but I defer to your choice in this matter."
Jennifer didn't hesitate. "Yes, please."
The ways things were going, she didn't know what state their family
would be in when she delivered. They needed every minute to prepare and celebrate as possible.
The technician turned the screen around to show Jennifer and Cameron the computer generated image of the embryo. "Congratulations, it's a girl."

* * * *

Everything that needed to be said was said after the verdict was announced. For an entire day they mourned, planned, cursed, and finally accepted that as far as the world was concerned Cameron McKay was guilty of killing Benefactor in cold blood. After the acceptance set in, all that was left for Jennifer and Cameron was to spend as much time together as they
could before his sentencing.
With Jennifer well into her third trimester, that meant mostly lying together in bed, holding each other. Cameron surprised himself. He always thought in any given scenario where his time with Jennifer was limited, he would have maximized physical contact with her. The image that always came
to mind was the two of them, curled up on their sides, fitting together as
well as any two precision made parts could.
In the current situation, he found himself with his ear pressed up
against her belly. The warmth of her bare stomach against his ear was certainly pleasant, but the occasional murmurs from within, which he chose to believe was his daughter moving around, was equally as pleasant.
Cameron thought about dimensional axes between those murmurs and kicks.
An ear against a stomach was fairly a fairly small amount of contact in the physical dimension, and had Cameron from early in his courtship of Jennifer voiced an opinion, he certainly would have favored spooning as an optimal
form of closeness. As time moves forward, Cameron realized that people
rotate to fit in different positions that suit the changing form of their
life. Younger Cameron could only view the world as a carnal form. Older Cameron knew that as pleasant as the physical was, there were depths beyond
it that were much richer, more true.
"We need to pick a name," Jennifer said. She reached out and squeezed Cameron's hand. There was a pause. "Before you go."
Cameron sat up to look at Jennifer. "I thought we picked June," he
said, "For your mother."
"June is a fine middle name, but I want to name her after you." She
used her free hand to wipe her eyes. "Don't argue." Cameron wasn't going to argue.
"I guess it works both ways," he mused, then smirked. "Will you call
her Deedee too?"
Jennifer rolled her eyes and laughed. "That would raise so many questions. The wrong kind of questions." She stared off at the ceiling.
"No, I'll probably call her Cammy, or maybe June."
"Cammy," Cameron repeated. "I like that a lot." He shifted again so he could hold Jennifer's hand with both of his. "I have a request, and I need
you to promise you'll do it."
"What?"
"In the morning, don't come to the courthouse." Jennifer started to object, but Cameron continued. "It won't be good. It might not even be
safe. There's nothing to do."
"Deedee," her voice cracked.
"All that matters to me now, until I get back, is that you two are as
safe as possible," Cameron told her. "Jenny, I can get through a thousand years as long as I know you both are out here. Please."
"I promise," she whispered, "but you better not make me wait a thousand years, because I'll do it."
As Cameron laid his ear back on Jennifer's belly, determined to commit every sensation to memory, he wondered what kind of depths and dimensions his love for Jenny and their Cammy would take in the future. He looked forward
to finding out.

* * * *

Cameron wasn't listening as the warden went over his introduction to the ultra-max, top secret prison known as The Cave, constructed when the
relatively nearby Northwoods Correctional Facility ran out of room. For the most part, he wasn't interested. This speech was an intimidation technique
for more violent inmates. Cameron wasn't going to be violent. He was here
for as long as was required to ensure Jenny and Cammy could live their lives without interference from the withering remains of Benefactor's legacy.
He was also remembering a specific night from three years in his past.
By most measures it was an average night for him, but two specific memories stood out, occupying the majority of his attention.
The first memory was the lavender negligee that Jennifer wore. She generally favored reds and blues for her outfits, even private attire. The lavender matched her complexion in their bedroom nicely. As she slid next to him in bed that night, the material was smooth and cool against his arm. The way it bunched up when he grabbed her by the waist, then fell back into place as she straddled his waist, Cameron remembered being impressed by the
outfit.
The second memory came from later that night. Jennifer was asleep, but
he had energy left and work to do. A contract job to review control code for an embedded control system. He was supposed to look it over for any security flaws, and there were flaws.
The rest of the night he spent going over their code. Everytime he
found a problem, he would create a fix and commit it for their internal
review. There was one exception. A small error that his tests showed only caused a problem if another part of the voice recognition system heard a specific phoneme sequence.
Cameron wasn't sure why he didn't report the flaw. Thinking back he blamed it on his postcoital mood. Part of him always wanted to do something criminal after he and Jennifer were intimate. Whatever the reason, he didn't report the flaw. Instead, he kissed Jennifer lightly so as not to wake her
up, then put his laptop away. As he was drifting off to sleep, Cameron continued thinking about the specific phonemes needed to activate the flaw.
Since that night he hadn't thought about the bug. It wasn't until he caught a glimpse of a SmitherTech logo on the hand scanner that he remembered the company that contracted him to find flaws, and that he got the contract because he helped design the hardware their system was destined to run.
Salamander. Twelve. Calamity.
Three words that would trip the bug, escalate the speaker's privileges
to admin, and let Doctor Developer walk out of The Cave. Freedom was three words away.
The realization hit just as the two inch thick Collapsium door of his
cell shut. By the time he heard the cylinders slide into place with a thud, Cameron was already throwing up in his toilet.

* * * *

For the majority of the time, life in prison was the very definition of stasis. Days, nights, meals, and the like cycled monotonously without interruption. There were peaks and troughs along the way, good and bad days, but on average it was all the same. In many ways it made life very simple.
Similarly, that equilibrium made differentiating average days from the good and bad days was just as simple. Bad days were the ones where some forgettable, angry person tried to prove their dominance with violence.
Maybe it was a new guard overzealously trying to fit in with his crew, or one of the prisoner's trying to make a name for themselves and finding a way
around the safeguards that were supposed to keep prisoners apart. Those days always ended soon enough, and the sameness of life returned.
Over the years Cameron had almost come to enjoy bad days. At the time they were painful, some even life-threatening, but from that point moving forward you could track an upward trend. The broken fingers healed, stopped hurting, and soon were able to bend and hold things again. The abdominal bruises shrunk, the pain of sitting up subsided, and soon they didn't hurt at all.
Bad days also provided data. You learned which guard had an inferiority complex. You learned which prisoners and gangs to avoid. They were small things, but working that data into useful information that kept the stasis going was the closest Cameron had to an engineering project. Bad days were welcome.
Good days were much worse. Once the spike of a good day peaked, and
that spike typically followed the realization of a good day, it was only a downward trend.
When the guard said, "You've got a visitor, McKay," Cameron knew it was going to be the worst kind of good day.

* * * *

The Cave was not designed for visitors. It was designed to house one hundred of the planet's most dangerous criminals. It was designed so that prisoners only ever came into physical contact with guards, and even that was minimized as much as possible. And if neither form of isolation ever quite worked as planned, they were certainly not inclined to allow any contact that an inmate would actually want.
Prisoners were allowed scheduled access to a communications room to meet over video call with lawyers or family. The communications room was similar
to Cameron's cell. The major visible difference was the lack of a bed and toilet. Everything else looked the same until the monitor built into the
back wall came to life with a test pattern.
Cameron was allowed one call a week. He opted to switch between meeting with Jennifer and his lawyer, the latter more of a means to make sure
Jennifer was taken care of by means of hidden financial instruments he set up long before Benefactor's treachery. They were mostly self-sufficient, driven by software running on servers in countries without extradition treaties, but he felt better touching base regularly.
It was hard enough seeing Jennifer every two weeks. He wasn't sure he could endure more, but he knew he couldn't survive with less.
After a moment the test pattern was replaced with Jennifer's face.
Every previous call always went the same. It began with a somber greeting. They asked how the other was. Then Cameron would listen with a combination
of rapt attention and agonizing ache as she talked about what she and Cammy were doing. After a while they exchanged farewells. Jennifer's eyes always got red as Cameron's voice seized up. Then it was over.
This call was different.
Jennifer was smiling. No, she was beaming. Glowing. Happy.
"Deedee," Jennifer said, "you are going to be so proud of our kid."
She hadn't called him Deedee since the day of his sentencing.
"I am?" he asked.
Jennifer nodded. "They took my phone, so I can't show you the
pictures," she explained. "Remember I told you about her robotics club?"
Cameron nodded. Cameryn inherited her father's gift for tinkering.
Since she could stack blocks, Jennifer had taken great care to talk about
their daughters' projects. In the last year her passion was the school robotics club.
"Yesterday, Cammy won the state competition. She took first place in
the teen division." Jennifer continued on to describe the maze-solving
robot, the long hours of debugging and a few failed tests offered up to the academic gods. Her mix of enthusiasm and parental pride was infectious. Cameron felt himself smiling as he listened.

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