She tapped the recording again. How had he done that? What chord was it? It was sort of diminished but there was something else? And how had he got that sound on the bridge. She tried again. She was a good musician, skilled, but she couldn’t get it. Her version just lacked something. It was how she’d learned to play: listening, copying. The bridge was “transparent”. She could see the code. It would be easy to let her Agent take it apart and then she could plug it straight in. But she wanted to learn. She wanted to play herself.