ZERO (Sunday)

Lauro sped south down unlit roads, the Rover's high beams pushing back the darkness just beyond its braking distance. Even though he'd traveled this route often and knew every curve, his speed required he give the road his whole attention. But he found himself inexplicably stealing glances at his silent passenger.

Elsa sat blank-faced, staring out the windshield at nothing. Maybe not: he knew her vision was enhanced, so maybe, unlike him, she could see something out there besides a few meters of road and approaching street signs. But her head and eyes never moved.

It reminded him of the state she'd been in up in the tower. After Jose had taken her place at the window, she'd stood as if rooted in place, just staring off, looking ready to die. He wondered then if he'd gone too far, but how could he know denying her the shot would do this? She hadn't even responded when he'd told her to pack up and get out of there. Angry and a little frightened, he'd picked up his case and left her up there, certain she'd come running after with all the equipment festooned about her. They'd descended three flights, and Jose, in the lead, had slowed, casting glances up the stairs, and a twinge of guilt had touched him, followed by irritation. "Go on," he'd said. "She'll be along."

"If she's not with us by the time we reach the bottom of the stairs, I'll go back for her."

Halfway down, they'd heard the echoes of her steps. She'd joined them at the bottom, fully laden; she'd even brought the boxes. Lauro had felt vindicated. This was a lesson she wouldn't forget.

And she hadn't, apparently, but now Lauro wasn't so sure his lesson had had the desired effect. He'd meant to sting her, not … whatever this was. It was almost like seeing her right out of surgery, her mind a blank slate, looking at everything with

innocent

fresh eyes. He turned his attention fully back to the road. At least she wasn't trying to make conversation, and she hadn't given him any trouble. He supposed time would tell.

They reached their destination, a little resort town full of parks and recreational facilities and rooms for rent. A regular contact of his resided here, a useful informant since his early Section One days. The man had called with a request for an immediate meet. Old associate or not, unplanned late-night meetings set Lauro's whiskers twitching, and he'd decided to bring Elsa along for a backup.

The man had directed him to their usual meeting spot in one of the parks: a baseball field, of all things. Lauro parked one lot over and killed the engine. "I need to check the setup before I go in. You remember this place?"

Elsa had finally woken from dreamland, it seemed: she was sitting up and looking at her surroundings, at least. "Yes. We meet a man here at the field with a square in one corner. Under the stands."

He nodded; maybe she was okay after all. "Right."

But she didn't reach for the door handle.

"Elsa."

She turned to look at him then, and his chest tightened. Her eyes were patient, waiting - and empty of their usual terrifying adoration. He'd always hated that look, but it frightened him to see it gone. Suddenly she was an unknown quantity. If he ordered her to reconnoiter the area, could he trust her to do it? "Elsa, go find out if he came alone."

"Right." She opened the door, slid to the ground, and disappeared into the night.

He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. It was going to be all right. She was changed somehow, but she was still capable of doing her job; he just had to learn to handle her differently, that was all. Maybe things would be better, even, now that she wasn't silently begging him for … whatever it was she'd wanted from him all the time. Maybe the unintended shock he'd given her had been for the best, and would make both their lives easier.

She was back, much sooner than he'd expected. "He's alone."

"Did you check the field and all the sight lines?" A routine precaution against snipers or others who might ambush them when they left.

"No. He's under the stands, and the approach is surrounded by buildings. There aren't any sight lines. It's why he always meets you there."

Then why did you always check before? He could still be wearing a wire, Lauro thought, or ready to lead them into an ambush; a check of the surrounding area was a prudent move. But, somehow, he didn't think she'd done that, either. "How do you know he didn't bring somebody with him?"

"I asked him."

Lauro felt a thud inside his ears as his teeth unclenched. "You asked him?"

"He's an old friend. Don't you trust him anymore?"

He sat speechless for five or ten seconds, staring at her. Instead of casting her eyes down, she looked back at him as if she was thinking of something else while she waited for his answer. Finally, he broke lock with those

betrayed

spooky eyes and reached for the door handle. "I give you a job, I expect you to take it seriously."

"If it was important, you wouldn't have given it to me."

He froze with one foot on the pavement and swallowed his shock, wondering what to say next.

"We should go," she said. "He's very anxious to talk to you."

Twenty minutes later, he was walking back to the car, deep in thought, his upset at his cyborg forgotten. His informant had made the right call; what the man had given him on the situation in Milan was important enough to deliver as soon as possible. It being more important to Section One, though, he'd get it to Draghi right away, and let his boss decide how much he should tell Lorenzo.

Behind him, he heard Elsa's toe scuff the gravel as she stopped. "Lauro."

He turned. She was staring down a side trail, one that bordered the open field, skirting the edge of the woods, and ended at a different lot. He tensed. "What's wrong?"

"We need to go this way."

They'd only gone down that path once, the first time he'd visited this park with Elsa. He'd avoided it ever since whether he was with her or not. But he remembered it very well.

"Be careful," he said as they walked down the sun-dappled path. "There are people all over the park. Try to blend in, and don't do anything suspicious."

Walking beside him almost close enough to brush elbows, Elsa scanned the other parkgoers as they walked or jogged past. "Like what?"

The corner of his mouth quirked. "I don't know. Maybe somebody will want to pinch your cheek or something. Don't mistake it for an attack." They'd been together for a month. She was already a fair shot with rifle and pistol, and was getting the basics of unarmed combat down as well. It was amazing how quickly she was picking it all up, really. But, although he'd been all over the Agency grounds with her, this was the first time he'd taken her out of the compound; the only human beings in her memory who weren't Agency people were the practice targets in the killing rooms. "Just put up with it. It's what kids always do."

"Right."

"People may want to stop us to chat. Let me do any talking past a polite 'good-morning'."

She nodded. "Got it. Civilians, right?"

"Right." He couldn't help smiling at her. She was so damned smart and eager to please. Not that he forgot what she was or anything – he could never forget that – but he just couldn't feel Draghi and the others' contempt for them anymore. Even though he was on his way to a meet, coming here with Elsa felt more like an outing.

He paused to point out a squirrel twitching its tail on the ground nearby, and watched her face as she studied it. She said, "He doesn't seem afraid of people at all."

"He's waiting for a handout, the little mooch. Next time we come, maybe we'll bring something for them."

"We're coming back?"

"Yes. This is a regular meet for me, and it's time to start putting you to work."

"We're going to be together?"

"All the time."

"Forever?" Her voice lilted, reminding him of his other Elsa's 'happy' bark.

"Yeah," he said with a chuckle, "forever."

"I'll do my best, Lauro."

"You always do, Elsa." Her dark-blonde hair was contained in a pair of waist-long braids; he wondered if she did them herself or if someone helped her. One of them lay on her shoulder, he noticed, and he brushed it back behind her with the edge of his hand.

"Good morning," an older woman said from three meters away.

"Good morning," Lauro said.

"Good morning," Elsa echoed.

"Your daughter is beautiful," The woman smiled down at Elsa. "And so well-behaved. You must be very proud of her."

"Her mother's looks. Private school," he said. "I can't take much credit, I'm afraid."

She scoffed. "I've seen plenty of little hellions come out of private school. It's a favorite place for people who've failed at being parents to dump their mistakes." She approached and extended a hand to him. "Maria Donata."

"Lauro de Sica." They shook briefly. "And this is Elsa."

"Well. I'm very pleased to have met you both. You should take more credit for her, Mr. de Sica. It's easy enough to see how close the two of you are, if you don't mind my saying." She smiled again at Elsa. "Take good care of him. Men need plenty of looking after, though they'd die before they'd admit it."

"I will," said Elsa.

"I'm sure of it. Good-bye, Elsa de Sica." She moved off.

Elsa turned to him. "Why did she say that?"

"She took us for father and daughter. It's only natural for her to think you're mine."

"But…. Am I?"

The memory of what he'd read in her file put a momentary knot in his stomach. Then he thought about it. She needed a cover story; why not? "I suppose you are. From now on, if anybody asks, tell them your name is Elsa de Sica." He started to turn down the path again and stopped at the sound of her voice.

"Elsa de Sica," she said, sounding like a girl with a brand-new engagement ring, trying on her betrothed's name to see how it fits in her mouth. "Elsa, de Sica." She was gazing up at him with a look that bordered on worship. "Thank you."

Lauro felt a strange chill. "It's nothing."

"It's the most wonderful gift anyone has ever given me."

Considering her personal history was barely a month long, that didn't sound like much; but the chill deepened. It was more than knowing she was a creature of Section Two, which he was pledged to destroy; her gaze seemed to burn, as if she was the source of some strange radiance that would kill you if you were exposed to it too long. "Let's go. We've got work to do." She started towards him, eyes shining; he turned before she reached him and started walking. "And walk behind me. Watch my back."

Lauro led the way down the path; he was sure he knew where Elsa wanted to go. He could have refused, he supposed, and demanded she follow him to the car. But there was something in her manner that made him uncertain what she'd do if he did. He jammed his hands in his pockets and tried to act bored and disinterested as his feet crunched on the stones, but he could feel the tension pressing his chin into his chest, as it often did when he was around his little puppet. He approached the spot that had haunted his thoughts for a year and said, "So, what did you want to show me again?"

"Lauro," she said, "don't you remember this place?"

His last hope that this little errand was something besides a trip down Memory Lane disappeared. He sighed loudly and stopped, turning towards her. And when he saw her eyes, flat and vacant, he was sure something bad was about to happen.

"You brought me here, to this spot. This is where you named me – Elsa de Sica." Her eyes were dead, but her voice was still young and earnest and full of entreaty. It was as if her mouth was running on automatic, repeating a message from someone who was no longer there.

"Oh," he said, as if he didn't remember. All he wanted to do was turn around and go back to the car, get down the road, get away. Right now, he didn't even care if she followed him. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "You're serious? I can't believe you'd remember something like that." He stared off into the trees, unable to meet her eyes.

"I could never forget that day, or forget the wonderful gift you gave me." She stood with her hands behind her back as if she were reciting, repeated perfectly but with all the original meaning gone.

He couldn't stand it anymore. He was sure that if he stayed listening to her for another second, he'd

reach for her

knock her down on the way to the car. "Are we through here?" He turned back and stepped past her without waiting for an answer. "Let's go. We have an early day tomorrow." He started walking. "Can't believe…" He kept muttering, not really knowing what he was saying, just trying to drown out the sound of her voice. But he couldn't help hearing anyway, and her words froze his heart.

"This is where you gave me my life, and where our life began."

He heard her turn to follow, and almost sighed with relief. Tomorrow, he was going to talk to Jean, and schedule a trip to the clinic for Elsa ASAP. This simply couldn't go on, even if he had to retrain her from scratch. And if he did, this time he'd avoid the mistake of treating her like a little kid before he knew better. Maybe he'd give her a new name, even, make a clean break with the past. He took a few steps further down the path before he realized he didn't hear her walking behind him.