"The shelves were a little bare," she shrugged modestly. The woman is going to spoil us rotten.
    Breakfast was surprisingly congenial, and crowded. Those wings take up a lot of room. I picked at my waffle and pretended to be cheerful until Trent looked over at me.
    "Want to get started?"
    "Could we do this privately?" Don't know why, it's not like the others don't know as much I do about the situation. I guess I was afraid I might either break down or flip out, and I don't need them seeing that.
    "Sure." We retreated to the conference room, and I gave him the entire story as far as I knew it, leaving out only Shannon Burkowski. At that point, I still thought there was a chance, however slim, that this might turn out to be a government project with a legitimate aim, and I didn't want to give out information that might prove sensitive in that way. Trent took notes on Chandler's attempt; since he uses an entirely different method, he wasn't really worried about triggering the protocol. I realized then that I hadn't checked up on our friend, and excused myself to do so.
    "Yes, he's awake," the nurse confirmed. "Who's calling?"
    "Sasha." I waited for them to connect the line.
    "Hello?" He sounded a little raspy.
    "Hi. Um. It's me." Beat. "How're you doing?"
    "Been better, been worse. You?"
    "I'm all right. Look, I feel terrible—"
    "Don't."
    "I do. I'm really sorry." How totally inadequate that sounded.
    "It's not your fault."
    That might have been true, but didn't help much. I told him about Daedalus; he wished me well and I told him to get some more rest and said good-bye. Lucky grabbed the phone, then, told him about Xyrgoth and her belief that the wolf god is still awake and moving. She thinks Sutha wants her to sacrifice herself in defeating him, to pay off the debt she owes. Just what we need. I returned to the conference room.
    "He'll be all right."
    "Good. Now then." He just looked at me; I didn't feel much beyond a vague, tickling awareness of something going on. "Fascinating." He poked around some more. "No wasted space."
    Everyone's heard the bit about humans using 10% of their brains. "What's taking up the room?"
    "Hm. Is your memory very clear?" he asked.
    "Generally."
    "Does it take you a long time to remember things?"
    "No."
    "Hm. Very efficient. You don't have a human brain. It's been very well designed," he added approvingly.
    Apparently I can think of it as a series of eleven boxes. One of them is open, and contains everything I remember that never happened and everything I know how to do, my powers and more recent, real memories. The word "programming" is apt, but makes me feel queasy. Nine of the other boxes hold nine other people, "so if you ever want to be someone else, you can," as Trent put it.
    I don't want to be someone else, even if I'm not really clear on whether I want to be myself right now. The last box is the one Chandler tried to open yesterday. Trent did some more rummaging.
    "Just to be safe, I'd like to turn off your powers before we try this."
    "As long as you can turn them back on." That would be all I needed, to be suddenly helpless in the midst of all this. Funny how in a few short months you can get to feel dependent on these things. Then again, before I had my powers no one was trying to kill me.
    "Sure." He brought the others in for extra insurance in case another homicidal fit was triggered, and then he opened the memories.
    I gather that most people don't remember being born. The first sensation I can now recall is that of cold, as the air touched my skin for the first time; before that, only a warm dream of nothingness, the vat where I was... grown. A large, shadowy room, although the details are unfortunately blurry. The others— ten of us in a row. A steel table and electrodes. It's odd, I remember these things very clearly, but I wasn't me yet; I had awareness without volition. Delicately, a blank brain was filled with the things it would need, and certain protocols for protecting the project—like killing anyone who touches this part of my mind. We've been designed to fit perfectly into normal society, yet can be controlled if need be.

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