"At once the most sublime and the most trivial of human pursuits," Motoko agreed. She knew that her favorite hobby was a waste of time, that it ultimately affected nothing— except in those brief dying moments when the world hung on a wire. But those were irrelevant as well. She pressed on the seam-catch running invisibly along the inside of her wrist and when it eventually buckled under the pressure and lifted apart let it go, enjoying the faint tearing sound as the skin reknit itself over the panels.

She could argue that she knew more of daily brain-function than Sheeana but what would it win her? Not a damn thing. The artificial victory of it would be a waste of time, so the Major stayed silent. There was nothing for her to say.