This is a continuation of A Cadence Carol... before reading this post, be sure to have read Stave I: Moore's Law's Ghost, Part I and Part II ! * * * * * * * When Ben Easer awoke, it was so dark that he could scarcely distinguish the window from the wall of his bedroom. Carefully, and rubbing the bump on his head, he climbed into bed and drew up the covers. While he was trying to figure out what had happened, he heard the chimes of a neighboring church strike the third of four quarters—so he listened for the hour: eventually, twelve strikes. Midnight. Moore’s Law’s Ghost bothered him. Every time he resolved within himself that it was all a dream, his mind flew back again to its first line of code: was it a dream or not? Ben resolved to lie awake and in his bed until the hour of one had passed without incident, thus belying the predictions of the ghost; and, considering that he could no more go to sleep than go to work at this hour, this was perhaps the wisest resolution in his power. Still, as he lay, listening in vain for normal night sounds, he found himself dozing and waking himself with a jerk, being afraid that he might have missed the hour. When the hour arrived with a resolute Bong , however, Ben jerked awake—not from the sound of the churchbells—but from the sound of the creak of floorboards in front of the television set. Peeking over the top of his coverlet, Ben came face-to-face with an unearthly visitor, as close to it as I am now to you, and I am standing in spirit at your elbow. It was a strange figure—the size of a child, yet not so like a child as like an old man, viewed through some supernatural medium, diminished to a child’s proportions. His black hair, which was cropped short around his overlarge skull, and his gaunt face had not a wrinkle in it. His arms were long and in disproportion to his diminutive body, and he wore a suit not unlike the one that Ben himself wore when meeting with executives. He was shod in black boots and a sported long black cape with a high collar and red lining. The hint of fangs was peeking through his blood red lips, and his ears were strangely pointed. His severe eyebrows always gave him a sardonic look, with one eyebrow raised. But the strangest thing about it was, that from the crown of his head, there sprung a clear jet of light, which he kept mostly covered by a top hat. In his long arms he held a cane. “Are you the Spirit, sir, whose coming was foretold to me?” asked Ben. “I am…” “Who, and what are you?” Ben asked. “I am the Ghost of EDA Tools Past.” The voice was deep and resonant, and he could just barely detect an eastern-European accent. “Long past?” inquired Ben, imagining a long history lesson starting with stone hatchets and digging sticks. “No. Your past,” said the Ghost. “And why do you take such a figure? What on earth does a vampire have to do with me?” The Ghost paused, and looked at Ben, with one eyebrow raised. Finally, understanding dawned on Ben’s face. “Oh yes, I see. You are the design rule checker from ECAD, called Dracula .” “Bingo. Though I could have been Symbad, the symbolic layout product. But I wanted to scare you, and a sailor doesn’t have the same kind of impact. Now rise! And walk with me!” It would have been in vain for Ben to plead that the weather and the hour were not adapted for long walks outside, and that he was only dressed in his pajamas. So Ben got up from his bed, and followed the Spirit to the wide television set, and started to climb inside. “I am a mortal,” Ben remonstrated. “I cannot follow.” “Bear but a touch of my hand on my cane, and you will be able to.” ...to be continued...
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