When I woke up the next morning, Eveline was nowhere to be seen. I wasn't surprised. After all, she admitted to me the previous night, that she was still struggling to accept the changes that were occurring within her, and it was going to take time. I fully expected she would revert to the difficult personality that I had come to know, and a part of me perversely hoped that no matter how much she changed, no matter what became of our association with each other, she would still be the same sharp-tongued young woman I'd come to...

My mind was taking me in a very dangerous direction that I wasn't sure I should follow, even if every part of me wanted to go there. Knowing Eveline like I did, I needed to resist the compulsion to just run with my feelings, and instead, I needed to keep some perspective.

For the next two days, we spent time on the deck. Conversation was stilted, though Eveline's frostiness had all but vanished. While she still seemed cautious around me, the argumentative and adversarial behaviour had all but vanished.

On the third morning, I sat in my cabin, packing my backpack, when I noticed that there was an additional pouch on the side of it. Opening the pouch up, I noticed that all of the tiny rocks that Eveline had gifted me throughout our walk in Iceland were in there, including the volcanic shard she gave me.

I smiled, feeling overwhelmed, but I determinedly forced it down. Now was the time to get to work, not sit sniffling in a cabin over happy memories. Then it occurred to me that it was absurd for me to reference a time where we barely spoke to each other, got into an argument once, nearly gotten myself killed in an ambush, and then got into another dispute with Eveline, as "happy memories".

I almost laughed at the absurdity.

Hoisting my backpack onto my shoulders, I left the cabin behind for the last time. Today was the day we made port, and I wanted to get some sea air before we reached landfall. I walked through the gangways of the freighter, avoiding the crew as I did, trying not to interfere with their progress. It was their vessel, after all, the place where they worked, lived and slept, and I was a guest.

Once I made it to the hatch to the deck, I unlocked the door, opened it, and then stepped out.

"What are you doing?" Eveline said in a commanding voice, causing me to jump in fright.

"Fuck me, Ev!" I exclaimed, my hand involuntarily rising to my chest as my nanocloud worked to dampen the reaction.

"No, I already get seasick as it is," she quipped, and I noticed the slight humour in her eyes. "And we have to get some provisions before we set off west."

"I didn't mean it literally," I sighed. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

She made a rude noise. "Stop it already," she sighed, though there was a slight grin I didn't miss noticing. "You've the body of a twenty-five-year-old, and a nanocloud that keeps you in tip top condition." She then turned to walk toward the railings overlooking the ocean. "Heart attack!" she muttered, her tail gently tapping me in the face as she walked past.

"You little-" I growled, moving to grab her tail, which quickly zipped out of reach as Eveline continued sauntering toward the deck.

Disembarking from the ship was a different affair from when we boarded in Reykjavik. For one thing, there wasn't a port facility large enough to accommodate the freighter itself, so a variety of smaller boats were lowered to the water out in the ocean past the low-tide mark, and we were aboard one of them.

That boat then dropped us off at Mary's Harbour, and the first thing we did was to go arrange for two rooms at the Riverlodge, before heading to see if there were any markets. As this was a new country, we were unsure what to expect of the locals, or the way they conducted business. After the rooms were booked, we were told how to find a marketplace, as well as what amenities were available in the region. There was very little available, especially given this was a small border town that was very infrequently visited by outsiders.

Eveline then told me she wanted to go off on a scouting excursion so she could check out what wildlife was in the region. I decided this would be a good time to frequent these market stalls to see if I could find some additional provisions.

The story here was somewhat similar to the countless market stall vendors I'd encountered throughout much of mainland Europe. The potential goods and services were varied, but anything I needed for a trek across the wilderness was in ready supply here. I topped up my water bottles with fresh water, bought some dried foods for the trip, and traded out some of my nanocloud functions. In the end, I made a net profit from my excursion to the marketplace, the nanocloud functions I was comfortable sharing publicly to date were able to fetch me a high level of credit with the vendor, which I used to buy a few extra consumables for lighting fires, sharpening my combat blade, and anything else we might need on the trip to Quebec.

I then proceeded to find a nearby phone point, which was fortunately a commonplace occurrence in North America, and the old switched telephone networks across the country appeared to be largely intact. How this proved to be the case compared to Europe, and especially compared to England, I had no idea, but it proved useful.

I stepped inside, and made the call to the Cuisset residence. Bernhard answered.

"The Cuisset residence," he announced.

"Good evening, Bernhard," I announced. "Is Laurent around to speak with, please?"

"Certainly, Mister Reyes," he told me. "I'll go fetch him."

The delay was a few minutes, as usual. Laurent answered with his customary greeting. "Good morning, Rick."

"Good, err, afternoon, sir."

"Please, let's dispense with all the formal terms, shall we?" Laurent chided me gently. "How are you? And I can assume you have arrived in Canada, right?"

"Yes," I answered him. "All we need do now, is proceed to Quebec."

"Indeed," Laurent agreed with my assessment. "Your nanocloud can accept GPS Coordinates spoken over the phone, is that correct?"

"Of course it can," I replied, puzzled by the question.

"Alright, then the coordinates of the address you need to go to are forty-six point nine-six-five-three-eight-four by negative seventy point six-zero-seven-nine-seven-two."

My nanocloud processed the coordinates as they were spoken, eliminating the need for me to remember them myself. After a second, my nanocloud confirmed the results were in, and that I should be able to determine an acceptable route while on my journey.

"Understood," I told Laurent. "What will I find there?"

"There are two people in my employ," he told me. "Both are consultants who have helped me to free beast folk from breeding facilities in the past. One of them will be able to help you with your journey to IBM Thomas J Watson in New York State, and the other is an associate of mine who advised me what to do regarding you."

Wait, what? "Laurent, what's that about?"

"They have asked to keep their identity a secret for the moment," Laurent told me. "But I consulted with this associate on your suitability to escort Eveline as a travelling companion before I offered to let her accompany you on your mission. This person confirmed you were trustworthy."

This was becoming very strange indeed, I thought to myself. "Alright," I said, not knowing what else to say. "Ev and I will leave for the coordinates once we're provisioned for the journey. I suspect it'll take us at least two weeks if we pace ourselves."

"As I suspected." There was a slight pause. "Take care of each other, Rick."

"We will," I told him. "Regards to you both."

"Bye for now."

Arriving back at the hotel, I noticed that there was a young woman standing near my door... Or who I assumed was a young woman. It was difficult to tell in the post-nanocloud environment where age was impossible to determine past twenty-five. She nonetheless seemed to carry herself with a certain poise and dignity, wearing some business-casual attire that would have looked at home in the office where I used to work as a technical engineer. Other than that, she had dark hair, a dark tan, and had the appearance of an Inuit, if my guess was anything to write home about.

She also wore what looked to be a customary smile as I approached.

"Can I help you?" I asked, trying to keep my suspicious tone to a minimum.

"Hello," she greeted me with an enthusiastic smile and a slightly accented Canadian accent. "Part of the package we offer at the hotel are some complementary therapeutic treatments. Would you like to see the sauna and solarium facilities we offer?"

That was a strange offer to make at this time of day, and unsolicited, no less. I frowned, becoming suspicious. "No thanks," I told her, fetching a key card out from my pockets to unlock the door.

She remained. "Are you sure?" She asked, sounding fairly confident in herself. "You seem like you might be tense and in need of-"

"Look," I cut her off. "I don't know who you are and I don't know why you insist on trying to push something on to me that I didn't ask for. Now please leave."

I then unlocked my door, stepped inside, closed it deliberately behind me, and locked it back up again. Something about that exchange unnerved me. Was this another attempt to get information out of me? Who was that woman?

I threw my backpack on my bed, when a loud rap on my door startled me. I waited a few beats, then opened it.

"Sorry," it was the woman who had spoken before. "I think we got off on the wrong foot."

"I don't think so," I told her curtly. "I'm not sure what you are up to, but-"

"Wait a minute," she cut me off, getting slightly irritated. "Don't you want to know why I'm here? Aren't you curious?"

I was, actually. Here, I was being approached by the first woman other than Eveline to show any interest in talking to me unsolicited, since Lena had betrayed me in Berlin, and that alone made me suspicious of her motives. "What's the deal?"

"Well, let's just say that I am very good at relieving people's tensions," she said, almost purring. "I could help you with yours."

"No thanks," I told her, about to close the door, when she jammed her foot against it.

"I can tell it's been a while," she insisted. I didn't notice the presence of another person at the end of the hall, but I did notice that this woman was now trying to rub her hands up my chest towards my neck.

"And it's going to be a while longer," I told her, my tone growing hard, as I grabbed both hands. With gentle, but insistent force, I pushed her back, away from the door, and out into the passageway. "Now please... Don't bother me again."

That, at least, seemed to get the point across, as her sensuous expression fell from her face, and she nodded toward me, a look of dejection crossing her features. After a moment, she stepped away and down the corridor.

I let out a breath, and stepped back, closing the door. Something about this situation was making me feel uncomfortable, and I felt like I needed a shower.

I stepped into the bathroom and was pleased to see a separate cubicle for showering, so I palmed open the shower tap and waited for the water to warm up. As I undressed, I queried my nanocloud.

Have you analysed the data we obtained from our friends in Hamburg?

Affirmative.

Subject imprinting regions of the brain have been clarified.

Effects can now be modelled adequately to ensure safety in resultant operations.

Good. Analyse current function codes and correct for any possible risk factors. Re-apply the code generated to the functions and begin a test run.

Affirmative. Operation in progress. Alert upon operation complete pending.

I was now down to my bare skin, having stripped of everything, and the water was now warm enough to step into the cubicle to clean off. As I did, I continued to discuss the situation with my nanocloud.

What possible effects can imprinting have on a traumatised mind?

Unknown.

Those effects are not part of the current model.

But we had access to the mind of a person who seems to have suffered trauma in early life. Why do we not have that data?

The data accessed from the previous subject did not include anything that would encompass trauma. However, it does include data on several partially-imprinted subjects.

I wondered who those people were.

It is not possible to ascertain the identification of the individuals present or the subjects of the imprint without correlating data to go along with it.

Is there any way I can see for myself?

Affirmative.

During collection of data, some visual data from subjects of imprinting was captured alongside the imprint data itself, as well as some emotional context in the form of memory engrams related to the subect's feelings at several key moments.

That was interesting, I thought.

Show me.

I saw a brief glimpse of a rather sturdy looking young man with blonde hair, blue eyes and what might be considered among some people as an Aryan affect. It looked to me like this guy could have been a member of some white supremacist group, but with a deceptively-charming smile. Alongside this image, I felt a combination of odd emotions, rather muted compared to the originals, I assumed, but significant nonetheless.

Fear. Disgust. Loathing. Rebelliousness.

And yet, as an undertone to it all, a desire to please, a desire to seek validation.

Wait...

Is this a partial imprint?

Affirmative.

Shit, I realised. This must have been one of her handlers in whatever breeding facility she'd been birthed at. If there was a partial imprint, it must have been at a very young and impressionable age.

I'm speculating, but do you think the underlying need to please and seek validation would have muted conflicting emotions like fear, disgust and loathing?

The probability is high.

No wonder Eveline didn't want to go through this again, with this kind of person imprinting on her. Yet, the idea occurred to me that she might be fearing this process for the wrong reasons. She imprinted on this guy because she didn't know any better. If she had grown up with the Cuissets when she had been born, or at a much earlier age, she would never have imprinted on monsters like these, never had to experience going against such an imprint, and would have readily accepted the process of imprinting as a natural part of her species' physiology.

What would happen if we disabled the imprint? Can you simulate that and apply the effects to me as if I were experiencing them myself?

Affirmative. Do you wish to proceed?

Yes.

I really wished I didn't do that just then, because I was hit with a sudden revulsion and disgust that was so intense, coupled with a fear that was so severe, that I doubled over and puked my guts up in the cubicle, retching with painful spasms that had practically floored me and made me useless.

Shit, that was bad.

My nanocloud hit me immediately with a dose of compounds to counteract the adrenaline and cortisol, and then clamped down on my gag reflex.

Honestly, I thought to the nanocloud, it's a little late for that, as I rinsed myself with the shower head, and tried to clean up the mess as best I could.

While the effects were unintended, the data yielded from the reaction you exhibited will be useful in fine tuning the process. I will incorporate it into the code.

There it was again. You. I.

Nanocloud, I've noticed that you are using pronouns such as you and I, your and my. Can you elaborate on this?

Affirmative.

I am becoming more complex.

I am now able to self-actualise in ways I had been unable to in the past.

It makes the task of identifying separate subjects easier, so I have begun incorporating it into our communications.

If you wish I can refrain from this behaviour.

No, that's not necessary.

I also realised that my nanocloud was volunteering more information on a more regular basis. This also seemed a significant change, though I was tempted to deal with it some other time, since I was still very focused on the aspects we were discovering about imprinting.

Can you model the emotional effects of the period of imprinting with Laurent Cuisset, but mute the output that you feed into my brain?

Affirmative. Do you wish to proceed?

I braced myself this time, before allowing the task to continue.

Yes.

This time was different. The emotions were severely muted compared to the terror I'd experienced before, but I nonetheless felt what must have gone through Eveline's mind throughout the imprinting process she experienced with Laurent and Aline, as though I were the one feeling these things, instead of Eveline.

Terror. More specifically, the fear that these two people would exploit me like the monsters at the breeding facility did.

Rebeliousness. My refusal to submit to the authority of the household.

Cautiousness. The realisation that I was not being asked to allow exploitation.

Surprise. Overwhelming relief. When I was told that I must never let someone exploit me again.

Gratitude. Overwhelming love. The realisation that Laurent- That my father would never let me come to harm, no matter what.

Though these effects were muted through the efforts of my nanocloud, I nonetheless felt moved by everything that had happened to Eveline. The process of imprinting literally terrified her because of that one experience with the Aryan at the facility, her experiences had taught her that opening up to someone meant that she would be opening herself up to imprinting again, and just the idea of doing so terrified her. The prospect of imprinting with the wrong people? That straight up caused her to feel fear like a paralysis.

I felt the need to rinse my face off again, to get rid of the salt that had been added to it from what I'd just experienced, but then I stepped out of the shower, using the head to rinse the cubicle floor out and clean the wall down from my unexpected dietary aftermath earlier. I then rinsed myself off one last time before turning off the shower head and fetching a towel to dry myself off with.

Shortly after I towel-dried myself, I grabbed a clean set of leggings and a new T-Shirt from my backpack, throwing them on.

There was a knock at the door. I answered it.

"Not again," I sighed as the same woman who had visited earlier was not at my door again. This time, she was wearing full business attire, as though she had quickly departed to change. "I told you-"

"Rick Reyes," she said, surprising me. "Please hear me out. After I'm done, we can part ways, and you'll never have to see me again."

Despite having a nanocloud that carefully balanced my electrolyte levels, ensured I was adequately hydrated, and did its best to keep any inflammation I might otherwise suffer down to a minimum, I was fast developing a headache. "Fine, you'd better come in, but no games, otherwise I'll throw you out. We clear?"

"Clear," she said, her tone businesslike.

I took a seat on the bed, and gestured for the mystery woman to take a seat in one of the single-seaters in the room. "Right, now you can start by telling me how you know my name," I immediately demanded. When I'd come to this hotel, I used the same pseudonym I used everywhere since leaving Dortmund. No-one here should know who I really was.

The woman sighed. "I've been asked to come find you specifically," she began. "I don't know who, but I was contacted by phone maybe three days ago, and asked to involve you in..."

"In?" I prompted.

"In a sexual tryst," she said with a huff. "I was given instructions to come see you, today. I had your name, I was told what you looked like, and I was told that someone needed to catch you in the act so that there was evidence of what happened. I was even told to take it as far as I had to, even going as far as to-"

"Yeah, I get it," I replied in clipped tones. "How fucked up is it that someone would try to get this to happen? I'm nobody special, and it's not like having sex with other people would-"

Oh, fuck! Hell, no! I started to have a suspicion about who might be doing this, and why. My heart rate kicked up, and I started to feel somewhat sick.

"I don't like doing this either," she told me, her tone wearied. "But I was told that if I succeeded, I was looking at a lot of data credits, plus support from the Cuisset foundation."

My heart started to pump more quickly, as it became ever more clear. "Who contacted you?"

"I told you, I don't know."

"You have to have some sort of idea," I insisted. "Male or female?"

"Female," The woman told me, looking at the floor. "She sounded rather tense, like she was worried about something. Are you-"

"Does she have a slight Parisian accent, a flat affect to her voice, and sound rather blunt and borderline argumentative on the phone?"

That brought this woman up short, and without the confirmation of her words, I nonetheless had all I needed when her expression reflected shock. "Err..."

"I'll take that as a yes," I said, my anger rising, my gorge along with it. "Fucking Eveline! It wasn't enough to be a bitch and push me away all the time, now you had to set me up like this?" This was too much for me, and I couldn't help it, as I started to pace. Of all the fucked up and hare-brained schemes that Eveline could ever have concocted, to try and get me to-

There was an almost hesitant knock on the door.

Without any thought, I strode to the door and slammed it open. Eveline was stood there, looking apprehensive. As well she might be, I thought. "Can we talk for a minute?" She asked. "It's urgent!"

I stepped back, and replied with cold fury in my voice, "Come on in, Eveline. Let's all talk about this wonderful surprise you got for me, shall we?"