His avatar began to transform, melting and morphing into a familiar likeness. That of a middle-aged geek with unkempt hair and thick eyeglasses, dressed in worn jeans and a faded Space Invaders T-shirt. James Donovan Halliday. Holy shit! “Greetings, Parzival,” he said, giving me a small wave. That was when I realized that I’d said “holy shit” out loud.
