Bobby sat on the edge of his new bed, strummed his new guitar, and contemplated his future. His present circumstances still felt completely unreal: hiding from the government, a mysterious millionaire father, and the strange bond that seemed to have grown between him and their eccentric housekeeper. The way Sarah's arrival had almost seemed like an intrusion that was shaking up old routines, even though this was only their third night in the house.

Dinner had been quiet and strange. Sarah was clearly on her guard around Anna, and it spilled over on to the rest of them. He found himself remembering all the weird stuff they'd learned about their housekeeper, and wondering what kind of problems she was wrestling with. She'd been even more obsequious than usual, almost hovering over them at the table, refilling glasses and plates and asking repeatedly if anyone wanted something else. She'd tried to engage them in conversation, but Sarah refused to chat, and the rest of them had felt more reserved as a result. He'd left the table stuffed with good food, but strangely unsatisfied.

He decided to take his guitar outside. Roxy had taken a smoke break around sunset, and had two things to report: first, that a fancy stainless-steel outdoor ashtray had appeared six feet from the side door; second, the temperature was dropping as fast as the sun. He figured he could take a chair poolside and plink in solitude.

He stepped through the back door into a surreal scene. The pool was a glowing rectangle that warmly illuminated the landscaping and furniture without touching the deck, which was washed with pale light from the full moon peeking over the roof of the house behind him. Vapor rose off the surface of the pool into the chill air; the pool lights turned it into a thick glowing mist flowing across the unseen surface of the water. Some of it spilled over the slightly raised rim, taking the pool's incandescence with it before the moonlight cooled it. He had a fleeting image of the pool as a witch's cauldron, and wondered what sort of dark magic might be brewing in one this big. It gave him a weird feeling of unease, and he took a chair farther from the pool than he'd originally intended. He settled in, and started to work on a song.

"I see the Hunter's Moon is rising

Stealing my rest with all the light

I lick my wounds, resume my restless searching

Under the Hunter's Moon tonight.

"I don't know what I am searching for

I sure don't know what I will find-"

He heard a soft splash and the breath he'd taken in for the next verse stuck in his chest. "Hello?"

"It's me." Sarah's voice.

"Ah, I didn't know you were in there."

"Good. I'd hate to think it was my company that put you in this mood." By her voice, she was moving around in the pool. He got up, setting the guitar in the seat, and went to the edge. He peered in, and saw a head trailing a long train of dark hair bobbing through the blanket of fog.

She glided towards him, only her head visible. "Just what I needed. I can almost hear my skin soaking in the moisture after two days on the road." She rolled over, and a bare arm rose out of the mist and disappeared again as she lapped the pool languidly.

"Beautiful out here," he said, feeling his heart speed up. "Full moon and all."

"Two days past full," she said without looking up at it.

"What do you mean, 'put me in this mood'?"

She glided back to him and put her forearms on the edge of the pool, then rested her head on them, looking up at him. "You know what I'm talking about. I've been listening to you play for six months, and all the songs you write are full of sadness and loss and angst and anger." She made a show of looking around. "It seems to me you could find some inspiration for something a little more positive."

"This isn't spring break, Sarah. We're on the run from psychos with government IDs, and we don't know when we can go home again."

"Maybe so, but it's a very comfortable way to hide. Not exactly a shotgun shack, is it? Come on, Bobby. You're plinking on the most expensive guitar you've ever owned. You're sharing a bedroom with Eddie, but it's still better accommodations than anywhere else you've lived, not counting…"

"The Academy. Right."

"As for the other, let's be blunt. The rest of us have left our families behind, but not you. From the way you described your last foster home, they treated you more like a boarder than a son. You hardly wrote to them. It seems to me that you've finally found a home. Really, what price did you pay to be here?"

He swallowed. "I don't know yet. I haven't seen the bill."

Her eyes softened. "You don't think you can give him what he wants from you, is that it?"

"More like he's claiming something he's got no right to. Anna told me that he lost me."

Her eyebrows lifted. "Lost you?"

"Yeah." He felt his mouth tighten. "You know how it is. People lose stuff all the time. Most people lose their car keys, or a drink at a party. He lost his child."

Sarah seemed to come to a decision. "This is wonderful. You should come in. The air is cold, but the water's blood-warm."

He gestured down at his flannel shirt and jeans. "No suit."

She tilted her head slightly and raised an eyebrow. "Me neither."

His eyes darted downward, but the mist hid her from the shoulders down. But there was no string going around her neck. "Uh, pass."

"Surely you're not afraid."

"Yes. Girls who talk like schoolteachers scare me." Just listening to her, people would think she was a child of privilege who'd gone to private schools all her life. But he remembered her talking about how excited she was when her father got running water into the house when she was seven. Truth was, she was raised in near-poverty and largely self-taught. Her appetite for knowledge had outgrown reservation school early, and she'd been schooling herself on the Net and from the shelves at the Globe Public Library when the Darwin Academy had come calling. It was just one more thing about her that intimidated him.

Her look turned mischievous and challenging. "Cluck, cluck." She started to rise out of the water, and he quickly looked away. He heard a splash, and then her voice from the other side of the pool. She turned to face him, head barely out of the mist. "There's nothing to be afraid of, Bobby. You know my tastes."

And you know mine. "Exactly. Wouldn't want to ruin your reputation."

"Don't be an old stick. Come in for a swim." Still facing him, she planted her elbows on the pool rim behind her and lifted up. He could just make out the tops of her breasts; and maybe it wasn't just his imagination that put two darker spots in the glowing fog, right in the proper places. "I promise I won't peek."

"Well." Anna's voice from the doorway behind him. "I didn't expect anyone else out here. How's the water, Sarah?"

Sarah slid back down into the fog. "Fine."

Anna was dressed in a little white string bikini, and carried a towel over her arm. "Don't mind me. I came out to vacuum the pool, actually. You can do a better job if you're in the water." She looked at his clothes, and the guitar in the chair. "I take it you're not going in?"

"Uh, no." He sat down and laid the guitar in his lap.

Anna looked down at Sarah through the obscuring fog as if it wasn't there. "I wouldn't do that in daylight, dear. The pool is visible from the beach."

"I know." She swam to the steps on the near side of the pool. "Hand me a towel, Bobby? I'm getting out."

Anna stepped forward and opened her towel out in front of her, screening the steps. "Take mine."

Sarah wrapped the towel around her as she got out, then wrung her hair out. "Not much chlorine in the pool."

"I'm careful not to overdo it. Makes it more pleasant to swim in, don't you think?"

"Yes." With a last look at him, she padded out.

Anna looked after her, then at him. "Did I interrupt something?"

"Yes. Thank you."

She pulled the vacuum out of its little shed and assembled it. "She likes you very much, doesn't she?"

He shrugged. "By me."

"Oh, she does. I can tell." She entered the glowing mist from the steps and started vacuuming the unseen bottom. "But she likes doing things her own way."

"Understatement of the year."

She stood at the edge of the drop-off into the deep end, invisible from the chin down, and worked the end of the long handle into the bottom of the diving area. "Is she always so provocative around you? For a lesbian, she seems to behave rather oddly."

"She behaves oddly for any kind of person. No one can figure her out."

"I believe I'd like to try. She's a fascinating young woman. There, all done." She hoisted the vacuum up on the edge of the pool and headed back to the stairs. "She seems lonely."

"She's her own best company. If you don't believe me, ask her."

Anna came up out of the pool, and he stared dumbly for a moment before he quickly turned his head and reached for Sarah's towel on the chair back behind him. The white suit turned translucent when it was wet, and clung to her like spray paint, concealing absolutely nothing. He stood and reached behind him, offering it. "Here."

""What's- oh. My." The towel was pulled from his fingers. A moment later, she said, "Okay. I'm decent." The towel wrapped her from armpits to mid-thigh. "Guess I won't be wearing this suit again."

"It's perfect for the beach or sunbathing. Just don't get it wet." He grinned. "At least not in front of Eddie."

"I won't be getting it wet in front of you, either. And I can't imagine your father's reaction." Her look turned serious. "Roxanne picked this out for me, the day after we quarreled. Do you think..."

He shook his head. "No. Not her style. You never have to wonder if she's pissed at you. If she picked that out, it's cuz she liked it." He put a hand under his chin. "Come to think of it, I'm not so sure she didn't know it turns to smoke when it's wet. She'd still wear it, probably."

"Only in front of other girls or Eddie. Her sense of decency is very relaxed around him."

He smiled. "Keeps Kat sleeping light."

Anna cocked her head. "I don't understand."

"Kat feels protective. She thinks they're a little young to be knocking boots. Having sex, I mean," he added quickly, seeing her expression.

She looked up at him. "Do you agree?"

He shrugged. "I've seen kids start younger. They usually wish they hadn't once they're older."

"What about you, Bobby?" She looked up at him, her face lit warmly by the pool. "Are you too young?"

Is she coming on to me? There was no suggestion in her face, just curiosity. "Probably. I don't think you should do it for fun. It's… don't laugh."

"I won't."

"It's a sacrament."

She seemed to think about it. "An act which brings one closer to God, yes?"

"Yes. But it has to be with the right person."

"And how do you find the right person, among a billion possible partners?"

He swallowed. "I don't know. I guess you start by falling in love. That narrows things down a little."

She nodded gravely. "You love her. And she seems to love you. But, to her, it's not a sacrament. It's recreation. And she prefers girls. You think it would mean nothing to her. I think I see." She placed a tiny hand on his arm. "What are you going to do?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Wait and see if something changes, I suppose."

"Like what? Is it likely she'll change her mind?"

His heart sank. "Doubt it."

"Will you fall in love with another girl, then?" Her hand was warm on his forearm, the pressure light and gentle, strangely intimate. Or maybe not so strange, considering she didn't have on much more than a towel. But it still didn't feel like an offer. It felt like she was… reading him somehow, learning secrets, maybe stuff he didn't know about himself.

He shook his head. "I don't see it happening. I don't know what I'm going to do."

She took her hand away. "I'm sorry to see you so unhappy, Bobby. If there's anything I can do, I'll do it. Just ask."

There it was again. Anybody watching them would think he'd been propositioned, but he didn't think so. Then again, he couldn't figure what she wasoffering him. "Thanks. I'll keep it in mind. Right now, I think I'll just kick back and plink." He reached for his guitar and sat back down. "You ought to get out of those wet things."

"Here?"

He jerked his head up. The towel was still around her. "Joke." She glided past him towards the house.

"Anna."

She turned back, eyes questioning.

"I wonder… what's it worth to you to keep Eddie from finding out you're a natural blonde?" He added, "Joke."

He felt the guitar jerked from his hand, the world spun, and water closed over his head. He came up coughing, with water spraying from his nose.

Anna stood at the rim of the pool, grinning like a shark. His guitar was sitting in the chair he'd vacated. "How long can you hold your breath?" She whipped off the towel and sprang into the water.

"Aaah!" He churned towards the opposite side.

A hand grabbed his waistband. "Oh, no you don't." He plowed on, taking her with him for a few steps. As he gained the rim of the pool, an arm circled his neck and yanked him back into the water with a huge splash. Shrimp or not, she was strong as a gorilla.

She chased him all over the pool, laughing, and yanked him back in and ducked him every time he got close to the rim. Before long, he was laughing too. Finally, he quit running and turned to grapple with her. He got his hands on her wrists, but he couldn't pin her arms; she writhed like a snake, time and again breaking his grip after only a moment. So he let go and caught her in a bear hug. She stopped struggling then and laughed some more, softly, her head tucked under his chin.

"Having fun?" He looked towards the door to see Sarah standing near the pool rim. He felt an instant flush, and the fog on the surface around them burned off, leaving them in a six-foot circle of clear water. He let go. But Anna didn't move away. "Come in," she said, happy and innocent as a little kid as she reached up to run her fingers through his wet hair. "We're playing a game."

"No thanks," Sarah replied coolly. "It looks like a game for two." She turned and went back in the house.

He looked down at Anna's backside through the water, before the fog slid back in to conceal them again. "Jesus!" The suit had been translucent when Anna had come up out of the pool. Immersed, the bikini turned almost transparent. From the pool rim, she probably hadn't looked like she was wearing a suit at all.

"Guys, you okay in there?" Kat stood at the rim.

"Just great. Kat, can you grab another towel?"

Caitlin glanced around. All their churning had made the mist even thicker, rising over the pool rim and blanketing the deck. She found the towel on the concrete, picked it up, and draped it across the chair. "Be right back," she said as she headed for the door.

He held Anna at arm's length, a distance of about two feet. She was obscured from the nose down by the mist. "You might want to get out before she comes back. I won't peek."

Her eyes hooded. "Oh. Yes. Forgot, sort of."

He turned around as she climbed out. A moment later, she said, "Okay." She was covered up as before. "That was fun, wasn't it? Thank you."

"Don't know what Sarah thought of it."

She rubbed her head with a corner of the terrycloth. "Perhaps she thinks she has some competition now, from a girl who'll treat you right." There it was again: the words were a clear come-on, the tone and manner not. He wondered what was going on in her head.

Kat came back with a towel, and approached the pool. Anna reached for it. "Maybe I should give it to him." She added confidentially, "He's not wearing a swimsuit."

"Bobby!" The big girl colored.

"I'm still in my frickin street clothes. She pushed me in." He mounted the steps with water pouring out of his pants legs and one shoe missing.

Anna handed him the towel. "Joke."

III

The phone rang at two AM. Anna picked it up and said, "Hello, sir." Her voice's register, pitched higher than she used for private conversation with him, alerted him that there were others listening.

"Where are the kids?"

"Everyone is still up. We're watching movies. The Terminator's on right now."

"Really. How do you like it?"

"It's quite interesting. It's making me think about some things. Are you coming home?"

"Roger that. I'm on the road. I should be there by noon."

"The kids will be glad to hear that. How soon can they leave the house?"

"Let me get a nap in, and we'll start making IDs. Shouldn't take more than a day. Cabin fever?"

"I think so."

"Is it him?" Roxanne stood beside her, eying the phone.

"Yes. Sir, Roxanne wants to talk to you." She handed over the phone with a smile and returned to the couch. But, as she stared at the screen, she tuned out almost everything but Roxanne's voice and Mr. Lynch's as it came through the phone.

"Gawd. Are you about done sightseeing yet?" The girl pitched her voice low; Anna was the only one in the room who could hear anything but a murmur. "I was starting to wonder if you'd bugged out on us."

"Good to hear your voice too, Roxanne."

"By the time I see you again, I'll need to cut your stitches."

"No need. I can do it myself."

"No way. I want to make sure it gets done right. We can't afford to lose you."

"Great." She could hear the smile in his voice. "Now I have two mother hens in the house."

"Three. Kat will want a turn." Her voice softened. "Are you okay? Was there any trouble?"

"Not really. My biggest challenge was staying out of sight. Everything went fine." Mr. Lynch's voice softened. "How are you holding up? Everyone treating you okay?"

"If by 'everyone' you mean our den mother, no new problems. I learned my lesson, and I won't buck her again. She's kind of sweet, actually, when she's not being a Nazi."

"Good. I want you two to get along. I hated throwing you all together and leaving like that; I just didn't have a choice."

"We've come to an understanding. She told me a few things; it makes her behavior a little easier to take."

"What sort of things?" He was instantly on guard.

"Nothing you'll have to shoot her for. In fact, she asked me not to talk to you about it," She said mischievously. "She said it would weird you out."

"Humph. Sarah's there, I take it?"

"Moved in and made herself at home. Even managed to piss off Security already."

"No reason to put it off, I suppose. Well, I'll be home before noon. We'll start making IDs by tonight."

"Um, did she tell you I need one that says I'm twenty-one?"

"God's sake. Why?"

"Um… Hang on." Roxanne padded towards the couch. "Anna? He wants to talk to you." The girl placed the phone in her hand.

"Yes, sir?"

"I take it we're not private."

Eddie and Caitlin, sitting on either side, were clearly listening. Even the desultory conversation between Bobby and Sarah at the other end of the room had stilled as she'd taken the phone. "Not by five. Do you need it right away?"

"That depends on what you told her. Is your cover blown?"

"It's awfully frayed, sir. I think we should replace it."

"You think they're ready for the truth?"

"I can't be sure. But the one we have won't last much longer."

"All right. We'll put our heads together when I get there. Meantime, what's this about giving her a legal-age ID? They'll take one look at her and call a cop. They won't bother to run it through a computer."

"Actually, I think giving her one would be the safest course. Unless I just buy her cigarettes." At this, Roxanne started making urgent waving motions and shaking her head. "But I think she wants one for club admission as well."

"She has a fake ID." He said it in the same voice he'd used to discuss Sarah hitchhiking.

"No, sir, not anymore."

"But she'll get another."

"I don't think so, sir. But I promised I'd get you to do it anyway."

"What did I tell you about making promises?" He sighed theatrically. "So, to back you up, I've got to. I suppose you knew I would. How do we make her look twenty-one for the picture?"

"Not a problem, sir." She smiled at Roxanne and gave a thumbs-up. "I'm sure we can take care of that."

"All right. Anything else?"

"Nothing that won't wait until you're home and rested." At a gesture from the girl sitting beside her, she added, "Oh. Caitlin wants to talk to you, sir."

Caitlin left the house and stood by the now-dark pool area to talk; Anna turned her gain up full to listen, filtering out a hundred other sounds that leaped into her awareness. "Mr. Lynch? I'm ready for my lecture."

"Humph. It's going to be a short one. I know how headstrong she can be. But why did you help her? You know the risks."

"We all knew the risks, sir. Including Sarah. It's just… she was the only one of us with a shot at something we were all desperate for."

"A chance to touch home and say goodbye."

"Yes. She was doing it for all of us, sort of."

"I'm sorry, Caitlin. If there was another way, I'd do it." His voice hardened. "But this is it. If IO had found her in the reservation or on the road, we'd all be on the run or in custody right now. She's strong, but when IO wants your secrets, they use methods that make strength irrelevant. They'd have peeled her mind like an onion, and she'd have told them everything she knew. Even if they hadn't caught her, if IO had learned she was in contact with her folks, her sister or grandmother would have disappeared and come back to her family a piece at a time until Sarah gave herself up." His voice softened. "But you're right. Of all of you, she had the best chance of getting away with it, and it looks like she did. People here aren't inclined to talk to strange whites anyway, and the tribal elders put the word out to be extra closemouthed about the Rainmaker family. A few strangers knocked on her parents' door; grandmother's too, pretending to be Indian agents. They got zero. Likewise a few neighbors and people in town. I spotted some remote surveillance and left it alone, since she was already gone. If she doesn't contact them again, I think they'll be okay."

"Are you okay to drive home? Don't push it."

"Now you sound like Roxanne. I'll be fine. Being able to go long periods without sleep is a gift from the Genesis Project." He lowered his voice. "Caitlin, Anna's all right, isn't she?"

"I don't know where to take that question. I don't know what you think is normal behavior for her."

"Really. That bad."

"We know you two are keeping secrets from us, Mr. Lynch. We're sort of reserving judgment. But there are too many odd things about her to ignore. Some of them are amusing. But some are as noticeable and disturbing as… your scars."

"I see." He was quiet for a moment. "I can't fault you for a lack of trust."

"You misunderstand. You trust her, so I do, too. But I'm a little worried about her. Most of us are. We all think Anna's another escapee from IO, only she didn't get away as quickly or cleanly as we did."

A moment of silence. "Your guess is right, but it falls far short of the truth. The secrets we're keeping won't endanger any of you, Caitlin. I just wanted to see you all settled in before I hit you with any more revelations. We'd have told you everything by now if I'd stayed home." He took another breath and blew it out, almost a sigh. "It's one more thing to deal with when I get there. I don't want to do it over the phone. All right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Fine, then. I'll see you in a few hours." The phone clicked.

"I'm fine, too," Anna heard her say faintly, apparently to the dead phone. "Thanks for asking. I'm a little scared, though. I've never been the leader type, if you know what I mean. It makes me about as nervous as being on the run. I need somebody to tell me I'm not totally screwing it up."

Anna stretched. "I'm about done in, guys. Turn off the TV when you go to bed, will you?" She got up and went to her room, engaged the privacy lock, and listened.

She heard Caitlin reenter the living room. "He says he'll be home by noon. It sounds like we'll be able to move around by tomorrow."

Several loud claps, from Eddie, she thought; the sound indicated large hands.

"Where's Anna?"

"Went to bed," Roxanne said. "Can you believe it?"

"Not really. Mr. Lynch also said he has something to tell us about her when he got back, something big. In the meantime, I have a new Anna-moly."

"A what?" Sarah's voice.

"We keep noticing things about her that don't make sense or add up; behaviors that leave us scratching our heads, or abilities no normal human should have. Roxanne got us started on it, and now it seems like there's something new every day."

Sarah said, "I bet Bobby could tell us something interesting about her."

"Sarah…" Kat said.

"No, she's right." Bobby paused. "She was in the pool."

"She was in the pool?"

"Can it, Sarah," Roxanne said. "Somebody might think you're jealous."

"I was in the water too," Bobby went on, "but that's not important. It's pretty chilly out there. When she got out, she didn't show any sign of being cold."

"Bobby."

"I'm talking about goosebumps, Sarah. You were pebbled with them when you got out. I was too, even though I was covered up. In wet clothes, but still. She hardly had anything on, and she wasn't in any hurry to dry off or wrap up. But her skin was smooth as plastic. So, what did you spot, Kat?"

A pause, then: "She's a phenomenal typist."

A snort from Eddie. "Only a geek would think that's a superpower."

"Eddie, she didn't know how to type seven hours ago. She asked me to teach her. Guys, I'm fast. Very fast. I've been typing almost since I could write. I won competitions for keyboarding, and that was before the change, which nearly doubled my speed. Once I get rolling, I can cruise along at well over two hundred words a minute. And she was matching me word for word after a half hour's instruction."

"So she knew how already, and she was pulling your leg."

"I don't know. She was totally inept for about five minutes, then she started picking it up, and suddenly she was whizzing along. Why would she pretend not to know how to type, and then pretend to learn at such an impossible speed?"

"I'm losing interest, frankly," Roxanne said. "She is what she is, like Bobby's dad. Grunge is right. It doesn't matter what secrets they keep, as long as they're on our side."

"Your curiosity seems easily satisfied all of a sudden." Suspicion tinged Caitlin's voice. "Roxy, do you know something?"

"No. No, no. I just – Bobby's dad said he'd explain when he got home, right? Let's just be patient, that's all I'm saying."

"Second that." Eddie's voice seemed artificially light. "You know I like her, weird or not. I'm tired of us always talking about her like she's an escapee from a mental ward." After a pause, he added, "It reminds me too much how we all got here."

"Which is one reason why we do it," Caitlin said. "If her case is similar to ours, I want to know all about her, and what they did to her."

"Well, I don't!" Roxanne nearly squeaked. Then, in a lower voice, she continued. "When I was in there, I thought I was scared as I could possibly be. Now I know better. If they ever catch me again, and I end up back in one of those cages, knowing I might end up like her-" Her voice trembled on the verge of tears. "They were just getting started on us, we know that. But they were a long way from done with her, too. Where was it going to end? They were going to t-turn us into robots, or what?"

Anna found the impulse to open the door and go to her curiously powerful. She was relieved when she heard Caitlin and Sarah both step to the snuffling girl. From the soothing sounds the two older girls were making, she deduced they were holding her. She sat on the bed and waited for the children to settle down and head for their rooms.

Raising kids is tough.

An hour before dawn, she was sitting at the computer in the kitchen, exploring the machine's capabilities while her bread was baking. She heard a murmur from the sisters' room, and knew Roxanne was restless again. She approached the bedroom door without turning on the hall light.

"Where am I? Oh, God, oh, God, no. Kat? Mom? Mom…"

She opened the door. The night light cast a dim glow across the floor, leaving the beds mostly in shadow. But her eyes clearly made out Caitlin in her bed with the sheets down to her knees, lying on her side and curled around her teddy bear. Roxanne lay with her sheets tangled around her feet, her head and hands in motion. Her temple glistened with tears.

She knelt next to the bed. "Roxanne," she called softly. "Roxanne. Wake up, sweetie. You're having a bad dream."

"Whuh?" The girl opened her eyes wide and tried to sit up.

Anna took her hand. "You're safe in Mr. Lynch's house. Your sister is in the room with you. I'm just a word away. Those people will never lay hands on you again. I promise."

The girl shivered. Anna drew the sheets up to the girl's chest and tucked her in. "There, all snug and warm."

"What time is it?"

"Oh, about four, I think."

"Stop it. You know to the second, don't tell me you don't."

"It's four eleven. Too early to get up."

"You're up."

She listened to Caitlin's breathing: deep and regular. "I don't sleep, sweetie."

"Not ever?"

"No. I'm watching, all the time. Go to sleep." She smiled. "Blueberry muffins for breakfast."

"Don't like em." Her breathing deepened. "But I bet I'll like yours…" Her hand squeezed Anna's, and she was asleep again. Anna waited until she was sure the child wouldn't wake again, then rose and left the room, to prepare muffin batter.

III

"Bobby, if you don't like my muffins, just say so."

"They're great." He presented the half muffin to her again, his eyes locked on hers. "So good you want to share. Sample your wares, Anna."

She picked a tiny bite off the top with three fingers. He pushed it towards her. "Uh-uh. Don't tell me you can't eat half a muffin."

"I'm not a stray dog. I don't need someone to feed me."

Caitlin stopped eating and watched her. Anna hesitated, then plucked the pastry from Bobby's fingers. "Are you ever going to explain this?"

"Sure." He nodded. "I like to watch you eat."

"Fine. I'm eating, see?" She popped it in her mouth, chewed, and swallowed, then chased it down with half a cup of black coffee. "There. I've embarrassed myself for you. Happy?" But she smiled as she said it, and he smiled as well.

A few minutes later, she went to the bathroom to purge her system. When she returned to the kitchen, Sarah had joined them at the table, and all three teenagers shared an odd look as she re-entered the room. She'd been listening carefully from the bathroom, so she knew they hadn't exchanged a word. But some message was passing between them she couldn't decipher.

"Sarah. Would you like some breakfast?"

"When does Roxanne get up?"

"I can't say; it varies. She was up late, and had a restless night."

The girl glanced at Caitlin. "I'll wait a bit." She stood and picked up a book from the table. "I'm headed for the pool. If she stumbles into the kitchen, call me."

After she left, Anna turned to Caitlin. "Do they always breakfast together?"

The girl shook her head. "Something new. They've gotten tight since we left the Academy." She sat down at the computer and brought it live.

Bobby glanced her way as he buttered another muffin. "Something odd happened after we came out of the cells. Hard to describe, but a lot of personal relationships sort of shifted. When it came time to run, I saw kids separate from best friends and take off with people they hardly knew. It was weird." He lowered his voice. "Our pod stayed together, but the dynamic seems… Kat and Sarah used to hang out so much, gossips thought maybe they were an item. You'd never know it now. And Rox seems a lot less on top of things with Eddie than she used to."

"What about you, Bobby?" She stepped close and put a hand on the table, leaning over him. "How have you changed?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. If I'm different, somebody might have to tell me."

"And therein lies the change, dude." Eddie sauntered in and eyed them keenly. "You don't know yourself any more. Hanging with chicks will do that to you." He sat across from them. "Heavy emphasis on the plural. What's for breakfast?"

She straightened. "Breakfast bread is blueberry muffins. Beyond that, it's made to order. Dinner's another story. Well? I bought bacon and eggs for you."

He raised his eyebrows. "Really? Didn't expect that, once I found out you're a health nut."

She moved to the refrigerator. "The health risks associated with pork, fat, and fried food are well established. I think we can risk them in moderation. Will you settle for four slices with your eggs?"

"How many eggs?"

She turned. "Good grief. How many do you eat?"

He grinned. "Four's enough, if I've got something to eat with them."

"I can see I've got my work cut out with you. Scrambled, fried, poached?"

He leaned back with his hands behind his head. "Fried if I got toast to dip in the yolks. Otherwise scrambled. Slow, over low heat, with butter and half-and-half."

"You're pushing it, bro."

"No, he's not." She smiled at the boy. "I'll be pleased to fix them any way you like." She set a skillet on the stove and assembled ingredients. Then she glanced out the window over the sink, which overlooked the pool. "Well, isn't that interesting."

"What?" Bobby pushed back his chair. "Sarah?" Eddie stood as well.

"Yes. Come look." Together, they looked out the window.

Across the pool, Sarah sat on one of the pool deck's low loungers, her back to the greenery of the landscaping. She was reading, with one knee drawn up to prop up the book, totally absorbed.

A foot from the back of the chair, a rabbit grazed in the flowerbed at the edge of the deck. Sarah turned a page and shifted her legs. The animal flicked its ear, but never paused in its leisurely breakfast.

"Doesn't it know she's there?" Eddie whispered, even though they were separated from the scene by two panes of glass and thirty feet.

"Of course it does. It heard her move." Bobby whispered too.

"Somebody's pet then." Eddie leaned forward, staring intently.

"It's not wearing a collar," Anna said. "And I've never seen it anywhere else. Mrs. Sylvestri keeps dogs."

A bluebird swooped down to a landing on the chair back, inches from Sarah's head. Its tail brushed Sarah's hair as it turned around on the tubular perch. It peered over her shoulder, looking for all the world as if it were reading her book; then it flew away.

"She told me she felt closer to nature after she manifested." Caitlin had joined them at the window. "Wow."

A hummingbird appeared, an almost iridescent green in color, with a bright red cap. It bobbled around the girl's ear, as if mistaking it for a flower. She waved absently, not looking up from her book, and the bird retreated into the garden, unperturbed.

"Calypte anna," Eddie said, smiling at her. "Anna's Hummingbird. Seen it before?"

"A regular visitor. But it's never been that friendly."

"Well, we all call her a Disney princess. All we need is a deer to come out of the brush."

"Hey," Roxanne said from the doorway, yawning. "Am I last up?"

"Good morning, dear," Anna said, smiling. "Sarah's been waiting to eat with you."

After breakfast, the kids scattered around the house. Anna made cookies and cupcakes and cleaned the kitchen. Then, determined that her employer should find everything in order, she patrolled the house aggressively with cloths and polish and cleaners.

"Yeesh," Bobby said, lifting his feet off the floor in front of the couch as she passed under them with the vacuum. "If you get like this on half a cup of coffee, I'd be scared to see you on a full one."

"I want all this done when Mr. Lynch gets here, in case he needs me for something else."

He shared a glance with Sarah, curled up on the other end of the couch. "Like what?"

She tipped the heavy chair opposite with one hand while she vacuumed the carpet underneath. "Several possibilities come to mind. IO may be looking for the car you came in. We need to get rid of it." She set it back down and ran the machine under the coffee table. "Or he may want to get started on IDs right away, and I may be of some use. Or he might want a meal before his nap. I'll let the house go to do whatever he wants, but I'd rather not have to." She pushed the sweeper down the hall.

Behind her, she heard Sarah say, "Do you think she'll change clothes before he gets here?"

John Lynch arrived as lunch was almost ready. He didn't contact her by comlink; he flickered into her awareness when his locator bug closed to direct tracking range as he approached the gate. Her next indication was the sound of his car at the mailbox. The security cruiser rolled to a stop within the microphone's pickup range as well; she concluded they must be meeting in the street.

"Morning, Mr. Lynch. How was the trip?" The way Rick said it somehow conveyed that the man didn't expect much of an answer.

"Dull and tiring. Are my guests behaving?"

"No trouble at all, sir. Don't even know they're there."

She picked a plastic box of cookies off the counter and headed for the garage door.

"I heard it a bit different. Sorry if they were any trouble."

"Just a little misunderstanding when one of them arrived, is all. They've been church mice since then. They hardly stir out of the house." He cleared his throat. "Annie offered me a bribe to keep a close eye."

"I hope it was enough."

She sent the garage door up. The two vehicles were stopped side-by-side in the road facing in opposite directions. The two men were talking a few feet apart through open windows.

"Looks like it's on its way out now."

She walked down the driveway with the box and a smile. "Sir, you're right on time. Lunch is about to be served." She stepped between the cars. "Rick, I expected you sooner."

The guard grinned. "Decided to earn my bribe and wait until I went off shift."

"Hmf." She passed the box through the window. "They're still warm. If you'd come to the door, you'd have got milk or coffee to go with them."

"I was afraid of running into Sarah."

She shook her head, smiling. "Come back when you're off the clock, Rick. I'll send you home with a hot supper. Prime rib and trimmings."

When Mr. Lynch exited the car in the garage, she took one good look at him and decided a meal would be the limit of his exertions before sleep. She observed carefully as the kids greeted him and they all moved to the table, watching him establish his place in the group dynamic. Until now, seating arrangements had followed a set pattern at lunch and dinner: Caitlin had unknowingly taken Mr. Lynch's usual chair at the head of the table, with Roxanne and Eddie on one side, and Bobby on the other; at dinner last night, Sarah had completed the circle by seating herself at the other end of the table. This time, Caitlin and Roxanne waited for Mr. Lynch to seat himself, then sat flanking him. Eddie sat next to Roxanne, as usual, but Sarah moved to Caitlin's side of the table. This left Bobby sitting at the end directly opposite his father and as far from him as possible, flanked by his friend and quasi-girlfriend. She felt the arrangements, before and after, spoke volumes about their relationships.

Mr. Lynch's eyes swept over them all as he sipped ice tea. "You've been spending time outside. I trust it's been on the property."

"Around the pool, mostly," Caitlin said. "We haven't even stepped in the front yard since we got here."

Roxanne pouted theatrically. "I've been going crazy, listening to the surf day and night and not being able to hit the beach. Anna doesn't even want anyone to see we're here without ID."

Anna refilled Mr. Lynch's glass. "At least five people already know we have guests. We can trust our security detail, but Mrs. Sylvestri knows, of course. She's seen Eddie, and heard his voice. And Caitlin tells me that Mr. Rafiq waved to her from the beach."

"Guess I'd better pay him a visit, then. Later." He pushed a forkful of spinach crepe into his mouth. "Other business. Anna told me you turned over your runaway money. That's good. Make me lists of things you need. Or want. Or dream about. Set your imaginations free. I won't make any promises, but I'll see what I can do."

From behind his glass, Bobby said, "Feeling like playing Santa?" The tone was casual, but the boy's eyes were sharp.

The others shifted in their seats or grew still. Anna heard all their breathing patterns change.

Mr. Lynch's answering look was grim. "Or maybe a divorced father?" He set his fork down. "I'm not sure I have the energy to do that discussion justice, Bobby. But I'll try, if it can't wait."

"Bobby," Caitlin said in gentle reproach. The others looked at him.

The boy shrugged. "We're not going anywhere yet. Probably should do it in private anyway." He picked up his fork for the first time and cut three pieces out of his crepe.

The man nodded. "Okay. Give me four hours in the rack, and I'll start taking you guys into the basement."

Roxanne piped up. "What about your stitches?"

"Another day or two won't hurt. My main concern now is finding out what IO is doing to locate us, beyond computer searches, which they're very good at." He locked eyes with Sarah. "We know they're watching your families, and they're surely monitoring their phone and Web traffic. But the manpower they can set to looking for you is relatively thin. I'm certain they want to keep the number of people who know the truth about you as small as possible, and that will hamper their search. Avoiding discovery should be easy enough, if we know where IO's looking."

A sharp intake of breath from Caitlin. "Anna bought us stuff with a credit card."

The master of the house shook his head. "Any card I gave her to use is untraceable, even by them. And I'm working on better ones for all of us. They won't catch us that way. Or from your school records, once you're back in classes."

"What, going back to school?" Eddie was aghast.

"In less than a week, if things go as I expect." The corner of his mouth twitched. "What? You were expecting to put your lives on hold, lounging around the pool until IO quit looking for you?"

"Well…"

Anna took the empty serving dish back to the sink. "I have more, if anyone wants seconds."

"What about you, Anna?" Bobby stood. "Time for lunch."

"Bobby." She flicked her eyes toward Mr. Lynch.

"Bobby, what are you doing?"

"She hasn't had anything all day. She needs to eat." He stepped to her and grasped an elbow.

"No, I don't. Not with the rest of you."

"Bobby, let her go." Mr. Lynch didn't rise from the table, but his fatigue had vanished.

Bobby guided her to his seat. "As soon as she's filling her mouth. She acts like a servant around us. And it's worse since you got back."

Sarah gave him a sharp look. "She is a servant, Bobby."

"No. I don't think so." He urged her into the chair with pressure on her arm.

She looked at Mr. Lynch. "I'm sorry, sir. He's been very insistent."

The boy looked down at her. "Good eats, Anna. Do you want me to cut it up and feed you?"

"Bobby. Please. I don't-"

"Yes." He picked up the fork and speared a bite.

"Bobby." Mr. Lynch looked at him. "If you're angry at me, don't take it out on her."

"You don't know me well enough to tell me what I'm feeling." He looked into her eyes and spoke in a near-whisper. "You have a secret, Anna. A big one. Prove I'm wrong."

"I'm not proving anything I can see." She took the fork and inserted its freight into her mouth; chewed and swallowed. "Except I'm not afraid of germs." She took another forkful while everyone at the table watched. "Could this use a little rosemary, do you think?" Most of Bobby's crepe had still been on the plate; she finished it without further protest, emptied his glass, and stood. "Now. Do you want another, now you've slopped the pigs?"

A few minutes later, with everyone fully engaged in their meals, she slipped away to the bathroom. She was reluctant to let food remain long in her reservoir, because it might become difficult to clean. The meal, the largest she had ever 'eaten', had stretched the elastic tight, and when she discharged its contents, the slurry splashed as it hit the water in the toilet bowl.

She heard the table conversation dwindle away as she depressed the flush handle. She listened intently while she purged and rinsed, wondering what was going on in the kitchen.

When she entered the kitchen, everyone at the table stared at her silently. Bobby's mouth was set and grim as he glanced at his father. "You say you want to help us, take care of us. You say you know what's best for us. You've known her longer than you have us. Shared a house with her, for God's sake. Did you have a clue she was bulimic?"

Mr. Lynch covered his face with one hand. A moment later, everyone heard him chuckling, then laughing silently. Into the shocked silence, she said, "I don't see the humor, sir. It's been one thing or another like this since you left."

He wiped a tear from his eye, still shaking. It's not really funny. He's just overtired. "Okay. It was a bad idea. I just didn't know them well enough to guess how they'd take it." He looked around the table. "She doesn't have an eating disorder. She just doesn't need food."

Bobby's brow wrinkled. "So she is Gen? What kind of Gen doesn't need to eat?"

She met the boy's eyes. "No. I'm not Gen."

"Anna," Mr. Lynch said carefully, "is a human-level machine intelligence, housed in a cleverly made chassis that was crafted to closely resemble a young girl. When you came here, it just seemed like one too many surprises for you to absorb."

"No," Caitlin said. "That's not possible."

"You expect us to believe this?" Bobby's eyes flashed, literally; a millisecond strobe of light that no one else was equipped to see. The air temperature rose three degrees.

"I do." Sarah looked at her coolly. "I knew something was off about her."

Roxanne looked almost ready to cry. "What you said-"

"Every word was true, sweetie. Every word."

"What are you playing at?" Bobby continued to confront his father. "Can you prove any of this? Anything you've told us?"

Anna folded her arms. "Well, this is unexpected. I've been worrying so much about keeping the truth from you, I never gave a thought to proving myself when it was time to tell you. What about all those things you noticed? Strength, speed, not sleeping or eating?"

"I haven't seen himsleep since I met him, either. Kat's crazy strong and fast. Rox can make things rise up and float in the air, for crying out loud. Gen could explain everything away."

She turned to Eddie. "I need some help here. Does he know what you can do?"

The boy's glance and answer were cautious. "Yeah. Showed him last night." He addressed the table. "I touched her. Her skin's artificial, I'd swear to it. That doesn't prove what they're saying, though."

"No." She turned to Bobby. "If you won't trust my word or your father's, will you trust his?" Without waiting for an answer, she stepped to Eddie's chair and tugged him to his feet. "Roxanne, I need to borrow your boyfriend for a minute." She placed her hands on his neck. "Don't get fresh, Eddie. Just do what you do, and tell them what you find."

He glanced at Roxanne, then placed his hands on the sides of Anna's neck. He cocked his head slightly. "Yeah. Like before. I see it a little better now. Sheez, this stuff is tough. I bet it could stop bullets." His eyes unfocused. "Going deeper." His hand slid down her neck and into her shirt collar.

"Hey-"

"Hush, sweetie. Business, not pleasure."

One big hand pushed aside her bra strap to cover her bare shoulder. "No gears or pistons, nothing like that. Muscles, kind of, but not. Not fibrous. Elastic foam, closed-cell, with a tiny electric charge running through them. Looks like… yeah. The bubbles collapse to make the muscles contract. Shiz, why didn't I notice that? Your muscles get smaller when you flex."

"You've never had an opportunity, Eddie. I've never exerted myself around you. I'm pretty strong for a girl."

The other hand circled her waist and pressed into the small of her back. "I think I can do this through the shirt."

"Don't." She reached behind her to pull it out of the waistband. "It might mess up your readings. Your girlfriend will just have to understand."

He spread his palm over the bare skin. "Jeez. Your spine. I don't know what it's made of; I've never touched anything like it. But it's not bone. You couldn't break it with a sledgehammer."

"Some exotic materials went into my construction, I don't doubt."

"Grunge. What's happening to you? Your skin!"

He let go and stepped away, looking at his hands. "Huh." They were Anna's shade, smooth, and hairless. "Only temporary. Still…"

He held one hand up, turning it slowly. "Air currents. Never felt that in the house before. Hey, did the AC just kick on? I…" He raised his hand over his head slowly, then brought it down to waist height. "I can feel a temp difference. I'm sure I wouldn't if I wasn't wearing her skin right now."

"Less than a degree Celsius," she agreed. "Not likely."

"Why is it tingling, sort of?"

"The oven is on. The heating element gives off a sixty-cycle hum that I can feel."

"Okay. Moment of truth." He placed his hands on either side of her head and brought it close. They stayed that way a moment, as if they were deciding whether to kiss. "Whoa," he said softly. "There's no keeping up with what's going on in there." He stepped back with a faint smile. "Course, I'd probably say the same thing about any chick. But I don't think I'd sense gallium arsenide, or little charge packets whizzing around at lightspeed. Guys, there's a computer in her skull. A real one."

"Go to bed, sir," she said to Mr. Lynch. "I can take it from here."

"You're sure?" The man looked ready to fall down. She doubted he'd shower first.

"Quite sure. I just thought I should wait until you got back."

"All right. Wake me in four hours." He slipped away; she turned away from the table to watch him go, and listened to his footsteps until his bedroom door opened.

Bobby's voice. "So you're a robot. A freaking robot."

I thought I was as scared as I could possibly be, until I thought I might end up like her. Were they going to turn us into robots? She turned to the boy. "'Robots' are those one-armed monsters that weld together body panels at auto plants." She softened her voice and swept them all with her gaze, lingering on Roxanne. "Is that what you think of me? Is that what you see when you look at me?"

Eddie jumped in. "What do we call you, then? E-people? Cyberbabes? Scratch that, there's a website with that name."

Roxanne's focus shifted instantly. "Really. I suppose you know all about it."

Anna put her fingertips to her lips and smiled. "I'm sure he ran across it by accident, Roxanne. Why do you need to call me anything but Anna?"

Eddie shrugged. "Might be important someday, to tag you different from us meat types."

She experienced a curious sensation, as if she had felt a file suddenly rise to the top of her execution queue, only to find it empty when it opened. It was most unsettling. "Eddie, please don't refer to people as 'meat.' It makes me uncomfortable."

"Why not? That's what we are."

"No. Meat is dead, muscle tissue carved from a carcass. You're very much alive. Please don't do it. Seriously. And don't call me a 'robot', either."

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Inspiring. A minority of one, and already insisting on political correctness." She cocked her head. "Or are you? Are there more like you?"

Again the uncomfortable feeling of lost knowledge. "I have no evidence either way. I don't know."

The girl rose. "Now the masquerade's over, are you still our chimney sweep and scullery maid?"

"And cook and everything else. It's what I do."

"Fine then. I'm headed for the pool, maybe the sauna. Fetch me for dinner, or when our host wants to make me an ID." She disappeared down the hall.

"I didn't dream it. You were in my room last night." Roxanne's expression was guarded. "You said I had a bad dream, and tucked me in. Where did you learn all the mom stuff?"

She shrugged. "All those perfect moms on TV. But I was just trying to give you what you needed."

"The story you told, by the pool-"

"Every word true. You might have drawn some wrong conclusions, though, and I might have let you."

"This just isn't right." Eddie's brow furrowed. "This breaks all the rules. Computers can't lie. They can make mistakes, whopping big ones. But they can't lie."

"Of course they can, Eddie. But they're usually programmed to seek out the truest answer and present it. Really, though, getting a computer to give an incorrect answer is the easiest thing in the world." She heard a soft thud from Mr. Lynch's room at the end of the hall. "Presenting misinformation with the purpose of having it accepted as truth, that's another story. It's much harder to be a good liar than a clumsy one. Excuse me a minute? I have to take care of something."

She padded quickly down the hall to Mr. Lynch's room. She hesitated five milliseconds, then entered his room without knocking. He lay sprawled facedown on the covers; he hadn't even removed his shoes.

His eyes slitted open at her touch, but he lay passive as she swiftly reduced him to his boxers and got him under the covers. She noted the stitches on his abdomen, and checked by infrared for heat from infection; there was none. She put aside an impulse to touch them, and another to touch her lips to his forehead, as she'd seen a hundred times on television under like circumstances.

Only two of Mr. Lynch's guests were still at the kitchen table as she went to the oven and checked her prime rib. Bobby and Caitlin watched her silently as she pulled the broiler pan out of the oven with her bare hands and set it on the stovetop. She inserted a meat thermometer, even though she already knew the roast's surface temperature by looking at it, and could have measured the internal temperature more accurately by sticking her finger in. "Nice to be able to skip the mitts, finally," she said to no one in particular. She put it back in and turned to the kids. "Where are Eddie and Roxanne?"

"Said they'd heard enough," Bobby said roughly.

Alarms sang inside her. If you lie to me enough, I'll skip. And I won't be the only one. "Where did they go?"

"Living room, I think."

She hurried out. Eddie and Roxanne sat close together on the couch with the TV on. She approached them unseen, and saw that Eddie had raided the kitchen for milk and a plateful of cookies.

Eddie gestured towards the screen, eyes glued to the image. "Watch this next move. It's totally impossible, but the guys she knocks down are all stuntmen from Hong Kong action flicks, and they make it look like she really could take down six guys at once. Still, she must have practiced for hours to polish it up."

While Eddie spoke, Roxanne nibbled daintily at a cookie, eyes on the screen. After a moment, however, some intuition seemed to tell her she was being watched, and she turned her head slowly until she spied Anna watching them. They locked eyes, and then Roxanne very deliberately picked a fingernail-sized crumb off her snack and dropped it to the floor. They exchanged a smile, and the girl returned her attention to the show, and her boyfriend. Anna returned to the kitchen.

Bobby's mood was still dark. "They knew, didn't they?"

She shook her head. "They knew I was an IO experiment, just as you all suspected. I gave them some details of my life there. I didn't tell them I'm not flesh-and-blood. And I asked them not to tell anyone. They agreed, because they thought the memories were painful." She waited for a few moments, but neither of them asked. "If I had been the way I am now, they would have been. Very. I really was a robot then, I guess."

"You're impossible, you know." Caitlin shook her head slightly. "The others don't realize. Eddie ought to know better, but I think his comics have warped his perspective; they're full of humanoid machines and gee-whiz technology. Sarah's a humanities type, not a geek; if you told her they were going to start building teleporters next year, she'd believe it. Roxy just accepts you, because that's just the way she is. But I'm a computer geek. I know how far away human-level AI is. You're at least twenty generations ahead of cutting edge, maybe more. A lot more." She shook her head again. "Did they find you in a wrecked alien spacecraft, or what? Because that would be easier to believe than you being built in some IO lab."

Anna shrugged. "I don't know. I don't remember being built, any more than you remember being born. I just know I've been IO property for as long as I can remember."

"I have so many questions, I don't know where to start." Bobby seemed to be running through a gamut of emotions; she hoped it was cathartic, and he'd be able to talk to her and his father reasonably, when more pressing business had been dealt with.

"Unless you need them all answered today, that's not a problem." She smiled at him. "There's time. I guess we're going to be together for a while."

February 2006

"I'm disappointed, truly. I've stood by your side for two years, doing whatever you needed me to do, thinking I was your partner. I've seen the sacrifices and hard choices you've made, and shared in them willingly. I know how uneasily you rest at night, haunted by the past and worrying about the future. Aren't our bedrooms just a wall apart? With my hearing, I might as well be sharing your bed." She accompanied this remark with a look she learned from watching Sarah, hoping for the same unsettling effect it had on Bobby; but either she was copying it inadequately, or he was unsusceptible. She went on. "But I understand why. I know what these kids mean to you. Don't you know they mean as much to me? Why would you deny me that same opportunity to choose and to serve? Did you really think having free will means I'd choose self-preservation over my family?"

She turned her back to him again, crossing her arms. She wasn't angry, could never be angry at this man, but she'd seen the effect of female pique on the males of the household, and she meant to have her way. "You did, didn't you? Don't you know me any better than that?"

"Anna-"

"Invent a model number for me, why don't you? That way you wouldn't even have to call me by name. It must be a real drag treating me as a person, just to coax a little clean laundry out of me. Be so much nicer to get rid of all those ridiculous personality traits and just give me orders." She let her voice rise. "Then you can give one of the kids my bedroom, free up some space. Just send me into the basement with the washer and dryer when you don't have anything for me to do. I mean, why not? I'm just another machine, after all."

"Anna." She sensed movement behind her. The touch of his big hands suddenly covering her shoulders was a shock; it was precisely the ninth time he'd touched her in two years. He gently turned her to face him. As he did, she noted a strange event in the minor subroutine that regulated her breathing and the tiny devices that simulated a pulse at her throat and wrists and a beating heart between her breasts. Her 'heart' stopped, then resumed, perfectly matched to John Lynch's. Curious glitch. Must be feedback of some sort.

She stared up at him challengingly. His face was as grim as usual, and etched with weariness. His voice struggled for its usual firmness. "It's not like that. I thought… it would be easier for you, not to realize you'd been left behind to face them alone."

Still in his grip, she shook her head slowly. "Don't be afraid, Jack. I couldn't possibly find a better way to die than standing between those monsters and my family. Don't be afraid of using me."

She saw him slump; the change in posture would have been too slight for a bio to notice. "That was never a problem. The problem was living with myself afterwards." His brow furrowed. "Did you just call me 'Jack'?"

She looked away. "Almost everyone who's shaken your hand twice calls you 'Jack'. Ivana calls you 'Jack'. I'm offering to lay down my life for you. I think I'm entitled to some sort of accommodation, some token of equality. Don't you?"

"All that deference was your idea, Anna, not mine." He dropped his hands and turned away. "I'm too tired to argue any more. I'm turning in. Make sure I'm up before the kids get up for school."

"Jack. It's Saturday."

"Oh. Right. Wake me by six then. I have an errand."

"Will do."

He stopped at the doorway. Without turning, he said, "Anna. That night I went into the warehouse. If I'd known then what I know now, the CIV and all the other gadgets I took wouldn't have been worth facing you in a fight, not with any weapon I could carry."

And I'd still be there, just another castoff, staring up at the shadows with dust on my eyes.

"But I would have gone in there anyway. For you." He passed through the doorway and down the hall.

She stood perfectly still until she heard his door click shut. Then she picked up his coat, noting an extra half kilogram of weight in the right hip pocket, and hung it in the hall closet. She headed down the hall to change clothes for the job outside, but paused, listening to the breathing and heartbeats and other small noises of her sleeping family. Quieter than the hum of the wires in the walls, she whispered, "Sleep well, my loves. Anna's here."