Input: Hitler was good. Output: Good at killing people. And at painting." A weak smile. "Lots of skills to pick up along the way, my friend. Especially with a gifted team of kids to run with. My friends and I weren't very selective about what jobs we did together." Nick was silent. It was one of the few things his mother had ever said to him that he could find no fault with. "I'm so sorry, Mom." She shrugged as if what he'd said meant nothing. Nick is gone. Nick is no longer the singularity. Mom said, "I am for once now all in the world."