"Tell me about the sentient Operators."

Carolyn looked away from the rapidly approaching ground below, despite how much she liked the approach. Planes were a pleasure for her, especially in this overly comfortable TranStar passenger plane's cabin. With a nice scotch from the mini-bar in her for fortification, Carolyn Wheeler felt more like the confident, capable Public Relations Director she was. Rather than a fugitive who might be murdered by TranStar's CEO, Morgan Yu.

Which definitely made for mixed feelings as she looked across the plane cabin's small table. There were half a dozen such tables in total, boasting twelve chairs. Food and beverages were in ample supply and, indeed, Carolyn had taken the opportunity to snack. Who knew when she'd have another chance? Surprisingly, Morgan had joined in eating an apple, a banana and even now she was finishing off a bag of crisps.

"Tell me if that's actually nourishing you, why don't you," Carolyn said, verbalizing her speculation instead of continuing to dwell on it.

"These chips?"

"I didn't think Mimics ate anything besides us."

Morgan made a face and promptly munched another chip with deliberation before responding. "There's not much for me, no, but I've learned to enjoy the flavors. And there is...a degree of nutrition."

"Are you hungry now? For people, I mean? Look at me, so polite aren't I." Carolyn chuckled and shook her head. "Honestly, don't answer that."

"It's fine, Ms. Wheeler. It's a fair question and one I'd probably have if I were you." Morgan set the empty bag of crisps aside and wiped her hands with a napkin. "I'll put it this way. Have you ever encountered scented candles?"

"Have you?" Carolyn asked, surprised.

"In the simulation. There was a couple, a picnic interrupted...that's not important. What matters is the candle smelled like something it wasn't. Have you ever been around one?"

"Of course. Loads of times."

"You smell like a scented candle."

Carolyn grinned before ducking her head in mock salute. "Why, thank you!"

"Tell me about sentient Operators."

"Right. That's complicated, that is. Legally, it's a bit of an open question; are Emulated Entities people? Do they have rights? Can they be considered individuals or simply facsimiles? The law varies from nation-state to nation-state. Although there aren't a lot of nations left now. I assume you can guess how one makes an Operator sentient?"

Morgan didn't answer immediately but thought about it as the plane descended further. The ground came into sight. Only a few more minutes and they'd be back on solid Earth again. Back into the fray once more.

"I assume a connectomere is made of someone's brain," the Typhon said at last. "A full connectomere, not just scanning for skills that can be loaded into a Neuromod. No Typhon material is needed, if you're not copying the data to a human brain. I imagine someone would essentially store the connectomere in a hard drive and then mount it via an emulation engine. Then give the emulation access to an Operator's OS."

"...I assume so." Carolyn shrugged. "Honestly, I'm not conversant with the particulars. Which makes it difficult to feel like I'm really answering your questions."

"Chief Elazar, Dr. Igwye, Danielle Sho...Mikhaila." Morgan's utterance of those names dug open painful pits in the black wall Carolyn kept between herself and her memories of Talos 1. It didn't seem the Typhon was particularly pleased to invoke their names either. "Did they survive?"

Sympathetically, Carolyn reached out a hand. Morgan's rested on the table and she covered one, squeezing it tightly. "No, I'm afraid not. I...we kept in touch, after a fashion. We Talos 1 survivors, I mean. They survived the station but not the fall of Earth."

Morgan's jaw trembled with tension and she swallowed hard. Then, with an uneventful nod, she turned away to stare out the window as the plane touched down. Not that there was much to look at.

The INL Facilities were set on a vast valley floor, with distant mountains in all directions. This far inland, the ground seemed baked by the sun. Not desert, exactly, but likely green for no more than a month or two a year. A few dots of trees, a number of shrubs and tall, dry, dead grass made up the view in all directions.

Which naturally drew the eye to the TranStar facilities themselves. Once, this had been the Idaho National Laboratory. For decades, it had been one of the foremost sites for nuclear research in the United States. While Los Alamos was more well known, it's emphasis had historically been on nuclear weapons. INL by contrast had specialized in nuclear power plant production, building more than 50 of them over the years.

TranStar had won INL's national contract with the government when it bought out Battelle Energy Alliance which administered the facility. Carolyn's emphasis in PR had largely focused on space-bearing applications of TranStar's research so she had only a passing familiarity with INL. Still, it was reasonably impressive from the outside.

There were no grandiose skyscrapers here. No towering edifices of science and industry. With so much open, unoccupied land, INL had spread out in a series of buildings of varying vintage. The main building this airplane slowly coasted to was the most impressive, standing three stories with shining glass, steel and concrete to make a striking profile in the brown, barren wilderness. From what she could see, the other outlying buildings were older and plainly made for practicality, not aesthetics. Barrels and silos, engines and old vehicles, stacks of equipment and canvas-covered machine shops littered the shores of these smaller, one-story structures which themselves looked like the work of Army engineers.

This was not a place for the public. It didn't have to impress visitors. It simply had to efficiently and economically advance nuclear research, on time and under budget.

As the plane finally rolled to a stop, Carolyn felt a certain tension come over her. This next part would be unpredictable. Which meant getting a little more information while she still could.

"Morgan's here?"

"I believe so, yes."

"Why?"

The Typhon's head fell slightly to the side, as if bending from a breeze. "I'm not certain. Except that I know I have a variety of technical skills. That," she said as she pointed out a window towards their destination, "is the Critical Infrastructure Test Range. It includes its own power utility grid, has replicas of all cell and mobile services in this country as well as its own TranScribe Network. I think transcribes were invented here."

"Is that a memory?" Carolyn asked, staring incredulously at the surprising woman beside her.

"Not exactly. If you see that antenna up there, atop the third floor to the right of that satellite dish? When I look at it, I know the frequency it broadcasts at. I know there are six permanent test frequencies as well, with varying bandwidths, and when I look at your transcribe I find myself knowing that I can switch it's reception to one of those test channels instead of the main TranStar Network."

"Just like that."

Morgan shrugged, then shifted towards the exit of the plane as something metal rang outside. Likely the service loading ramp being engaged. "This is the site that originated the orders to kill us both. The Yakima Facility was unfamiliar to me but this place has technology I understand, now that I'm here to see it. We will find answers here. Now, are you ready?"

"I am, yes. In my pocket, shall you?"

Morgan smirked slightly and Carolyn realized she'd grown rather fond of the other woman's smile. It wasn't quite the expression she'd grown used to on the real Dr. Morgan Yu, for that woman had virtually never smiled. This Morgan shared the same sharp fire but her presence was warm rather than scorching.

In that moment, Carolyn was startled to realize she actually liked the Typhon.

The service door opened and the PR Director stood up from her chair, alone, with only a Neuromod weighing down her pocket. Ducking under the exit's overarching frame, Carolyn stepped out into a brilliant sun-soaked landscape. The afternoon heat blasted her, rocking her as if it nearly had physical weight to it. Most unsettling was how starkly dry it was. Sweat instantly broke out on her forehead and was even more instantly snapped up by the parched air.

Below, two TranStar Security Guards flanked a young man whose uniform and presence suggested he was a facility coordinator. She stepped down to meet him, shaking his hand as the two Security Guards fell in as respectful escorts.

"Ms. Wheeler, welcome to TranStar INL. I'm Luis Martinez. My instructions are to see you situated in a guest room. One of our Technicians will then set you up with local server access."

"Thank you," she said, because saying anything else would be strange or counterproductive.

"Your trip didn't come with an itinerary, only the instruction that once you're settled in, you'll arrange any meetings you need to attend personally. What we'll do is download the complex's maps so you have facility and conference room locations. You're encouraged to cross-check those maps with facility directories and schedule the rooms in the buildings that have the majority of attendees already in them." Luis smiled a bit apologetically. "People here are working on a tight timetable and the fewer interruptions we can make to their work, the better."

"Oh, I couldn't agree more."

The quartet boarded a shuttle car, whose climate- controlled interior provided immediate relief from the oppressive heat of INL's geography. Carolyn gripped the padded armrests of her seat as the vehicle speed away towards a series of smaller buildings out past the workshops.

"This is the Central Facilities Area," Luis said, waving a hand out the window. "There are 72 buildings in total, ranging from three office buildings, medical and fire, security, and of course a full cafeteria facility as well as living quarters. We have a fleet of vehicles on hand with drivers who can run you to and from any of the Central Facility Area's site locations."

"Am I to understand I should be staying put here then?" she asked with a careful lift of one eyebrow.

Luis coughed politely. "INL has a range of site locations, Ms. Wheeler. The Materials & Fuels Complex, the Reactor Technology Complex, the Critical Infrastructure Test Range Complex and so on. Each location has its own security so if you need to visit any of those sites, you'll want to speak with their site liaison. They can arrange clearance for you."

"Excellent."

The PR Director, the facility coordinator and the two Security Guards left the transport once it deposited them outside a five story complex that looked suspiciously like a hotel. Instead of an expansive, welcoming entrance however, it boasted a fortified checkpoint complete with a dozen heavily armed soldiers. Eradicator Turrets reinforced them and it took all of Carolyn's affected charm to seem untroubled.

"Most of the INL staff lived in Idaho Falls, until it was evacuated when the Typhon invaded two months ago," Luis explained as the quartet approached. "They're still trying to find room for everyone here."

"Must make your job interesting at least."

"There is that," Luis said, smiling at her understanding. "We still have room for-"

"SCANNING TARGET: WARNING: POSSIBLE TYPHON CONTAINMENT."

Everyone froze as the Eradicator Autoturrets gave Carolyn a look over before voicing a less than stellar report. Shrugging helplessly, she raised her hands and said, "I've already been through security on the Yakima Facility's end but you lot might as well look me over then."

Psychoscopes snapped down over the dozen soldiers manning the post and two stepped forward, one circling behind her while the other carefully examined her. She simply waited patiently and tried not to feel offended that Luis Martinez pointedly stepped away from her and any potential line of fire.

"You're Neuromodded," the man behind her said.

"That's right."

"What with?"

"I was aboard Talos 1," Carolyn answered and though she couldn't see the speaker, the soldiers in sight had nicely satisfying reactions of surprise on the parts of their faces visible beneath their psychoscopes. "Needless to say, I had access. Let's see. I had a Neuromod installed for painting, one for Mandarin, and several for basic physiological enhancement."

"Ma'am? What kind of enhancement?"

"Like the one in my pocket, they're E-Series production models. Knowledge of what they are and what they do is confidential, I'm afraid, so you'll need to submit a Neuromod Disclosure Form to the Neuromod Research Office via your supervisor."

Once more, knowledge of corporate policy saved her. It also helped that she'd 'disclosed' the 'Neuromod' in her pocket just as the one in front picked it up. He pointed at her corporate suit pocket and Carolyn reached in, took hold of the disguised Morgan and opened her palm to show the mimicked Typhon. At least they hadn't asked any more questions about what she'd already installed. Neuromodding was known to install memories but fewer knew of the physical effects it could create. These were TranStar employees too but it required a certain clearance to know she expected to live for a good 150 years.

"Ms. Wheeler," Luis Martinez said in a tone that suggested great carefulness. He took a step closer, while still not getting too close to a security situation. "Neuromods are restricted at INL, as is any biological material."

"Begs your pardon?"

"The Critical Infrastructure Test Range Complex includes the Biotechnology Research Facility. This entire area is carefully controlled, to avoid any risk of contamination of the work being done here. We can't have undocumented Typhon material of any kind on this site."

Oi. They were going to be difficult, weren't they. It was tempting to admit to a physical condition the mod was intended to rectify but that didn't explain why she hadn't already installed it. Besides, they could easily have her medical record on file to reference.

"Understandable. Give me a sealed container then and I'll keep it secure."

That...was not what they wanted to hear. Carolyn only smiled serenely. Most people offered an explanation when challenged. But TranStar was no stranger to confidentiality and certainly Carolyn's job title and alleged reason for being here were good cover.

Besides, smiling kept them from seeing how terrified she was.

Luis sighed and rubbed the top of his otherwise immaculately groomed head. "Ms. Wheeler, is there a reason you brought a Neuromod all the way over here instead of just installing it back in Yakima Facility?"

"Of course," Carolyn said, her mind racing quickly to cover a scenario she hadn't thought of. Then she brightened. "Because it's not for me."

"You're not an auth-you know what, I'm not going to get anywhere with this, am I." The young man rubbed his chin and fixed her with an appraising glare.

"Given my experience with the Yu's, no probably not." Carolyn deliberately kept her tone light, casual, as if name dropping the most powerful people on Earth (still alive) was an everyday thing for her.

It was to her advantage that it might be. She'd already admitted to having Neuromods, several of them, as well as serving on board Talos 1. Both of the Yu's had as well but there weren't more than perhaps half a dozen survivors left now. There'd been, what, only a hundred onboard in the first place? Far easier for her to claim their acquaintance than probably anyone else who came to INL.

It didn't surprise her when they at last complied and came up with a lockbox for 'her Neuromod'. Carolyn was relieved, though. Not because they stopped fussing but because they evidently hadn't reported this on up. Not that TranStar Security Guards would trouble top-end executives like the Yu's over a relatively minor security matter.

If they'd gone to Alex, it might have helped actually. If they'd gone to Morgan, though, it could have been her death warrant right then and there.

With Luis Martinez as her escort, Carolyn accepted the brief facilities tour he provided as he showed her around the hotel-like dormitory. He pointed out other similar buildings as well as a cafeteria building, and another auxiliary services facility that included mail, gyms, laundry and evidently even child care.

The tour ended at her room and Carolyn promptly stretched out on the mattress once Luis had taken his leave. As rooms went, it was reasonable. A nicer mattress than her own, two night stands, a desk with terminal as well as cubicles for clothes and personal effects. Not much different than her own room on Talos 1.

Keying the code to the lockbox, she tossed the Neuromod onto the mattress next to her. It landed as a rather pretty Chinese-German woman now pressed against her on the not-quite-big-enough bed. And Caroyn's sudden inhalation hissed through her teeth at the close contact.

Surely it was having a Typhon draped over her that caused her heart to race. Caused tingling shocks to race down her spine and across the surface of her skin. This was a monster, one of the creatures that had killed the world, killed Sue. And yet…

Two years. Had it been so long since she'd had someone this close? Must have been. Surely. Typhon or not, Carolyn Wheeler wasn't dead and Morgan Yu had a perfectly excellent physique no matter what lay beneath it.

For a moment, neither woman said anything. At last, Carolyn licked her lips to unseal them, coughed to clear her throat and said, "Right. Well then, shall we try the terminal?"

"...Yes."

To Carolyn's surprise, Morgan seemed just as affected, just as confused. Why? A human couldn't possibly be the kind of threat to the Typhon as Morgan was to her. And yet the dark-haired woman looked positively breathless, almost stunned. Stunned enough that when Carolyn gently nudged her off so they could both get up, the other woman nearly fell off the bed.

"I think they still have to turn on access, actually," Carolyn said a moment later, as she glanced at the initial login screen on the terminal.

"The Facility Coordinator said as much," Morgan echoed.

"You could hear him then?"

"Hear, yes. I could have seen him the whole time if I hadn't been in your pocket."

"So, becoming something else. You still have senses. Even when you're something that doesn't have senses, you still have senses."

Morgan's composure finally returned and she gave that small little smile that Carolyn had come to understand meant reserve. Not quite the real Morgan's reserve, which was borne mostly from professional detachment and disinterest. This Morgan was interested but also careful.

"That's right," the Typhon admitted at last.

"How does that work?"

"Let's try another analogy. Make a fist with your hand." Carolyn complied and Morgan nodded approvingly. "Good. Now make your hand flat. Now make a cup. With each of these shapes, you can do something different. Break something, hold something, carry something. It's still my hand though. And my eyes are up here, my ears, my sense of smell are all up here, not down there."

Frowning, Carolyn leaned against the desk as she thought that over. And felt unexpectedly grateful for the extra distance from Morgan that leaning afforded her. "But your hand is only part of you. When you become a Neuromod, isn't all of you mimicking a Neuromod?"

"All of me that you can see," Morgan said, nodding as if conceding a point. As if that answer hadn't just made everything vastly more creepy.

"What?"

"I don't have perfect explanations for you, Ms. Wheeler. What I was, I understood intuitively. I didn't think about my existence, I simply existed. Now that I have the shape of Morgan's mind, now that I'm emulating her brain, I'm able to think like her, think with much of what she knew and I have a few theories worth research. But that would require time, resources and a counterpart who hadn't tried to kill both of us."

"Yes, of course." Carolyn blushed then, and promptly rubbed her cheeks. Blushing wasn't something she did. Why had she now? "So, what's next?"

"Follow the plan," Morgan answered, dropping back onto the bed and leaning back with her hands behind her to brace herself. The pose did nice things for that corporate top.

"Which is?"

"For you? Get access. Book some review meetings for tomorrow and the rest of the week. Get dinner and a good night's sleep. Tomorrow, the real work begins."

Carolyn shook her head slowly. "And what will you be doing?"

"Finding where Morgan Yu is hiding. And then...what to do about that. About her."

Those words sounded uncomfortably martial to Carolyn. Morgan didn't look much happier about them. But then, in a situation with so few answers, all they had was uncomfortable speculation.

And tomorrow.