Geordi did not let go of Justine, even long after security had arrived and arrested the two intruders. Justine's heart was still racing, despite the safety of a security detail, Commander Riker, and Counselor Troi.

"Never seen her before in my life," Justine repeated. She shuddered, and Geordi tightened his grip on her shoulder. She reached up and wound her fingers around his. "If you don't mind, I'd like to call my mother."

"Of course," Troi spun her computer around, and Justine spoke her mother's ident information aloud. The computer chirped. "Call could not be placed as dialed."

With a gulp, Justine repeated the request, much slower.

"Call could not be placed as dialed." The computer repeated.

Geordi could see the blood drain from her face. Justine swallowed and spoke again. "Computer, contact Jessica Riley, lieutenant, USS Iliad."

"No record of aforementioned personnel aboard the Iliad."

"What?" Justine's voice rose an octave. "My sister! Jessica! On the Iliad!"

"Computer," Troi cut in, calmly. "Locate Lieutenant Jessica Riley, previously of the USS Iliad."

"No record of aforementioned personnel in Starfleet."

"What? What? No! My sister!" Justine laughed, high and rapid. "My mother! Is this a joke?" A cold sweat broke out on Justine's forehead. "Very funny guys, very funny."

"Do you know your sister's identity pin?" Commander Riker asked.

"447 894 268 112," Justine spat the number out.

"Identity pin invalid." The computer chirruped.

"Invalid!" Justine screamed and stood. "Where is that woman, that woman that shot me, what has she done to my sister?" She fought her way out of Geordi's grip.

"Get the captain," Riker said softly to the nearest security officer. "Now."

No one could find any record of any of Justine's family.

Not her mother, her sister, her younger brother still in grade school in Vermont, United States, Earth. Not even the Ithican grandmother who refused to leave her homeworld. Every relative Justine ever knew of had disappeared, in an instant.

Picard stood before the brig with his senior officers in tow – Worf, Riker, and Troi forming a barrier between the mysterious white woman and Justine, who was still trembling. Geordi hovered behind the security officers.

"It's very simple," the white woman said across the brig shield. "I created Justine. She is my daughter. She is perfect, isn't she? You've analyzed her DNA, it's a palindrome. Can you even appreciate what a feat of engineering that is?"

"We know full well that Justine is not your daughter." Picard said. "We are asking if you have any involvement in the sudden disappearance of her family."

"Justine has no family. I created her. Her neural networks supplied her with false memories. She's an organic android, fully programmed with a lifetime of remembrances."

"You liar," Justine spat, peering between Troi and Riker. "I talked to my mother yesterday."

The white woman smiled, and raised her wristwatch to her mouth. She spoke through it and her voice changed – it was higher, softer, more feminine. "Hello Justine, honey bunny. How was engineering today? Did you get the thermal valve to align?"

Justine gasped. "How… how… you've monitored my calls? Matched mommy's voice?"

"No Justine," this time the woman's voice was a little deeper. "I am your Mommy. And your Jessica." The voice changed again, to a little boy's with a lisp. "Even baby bwother Bwian."

"No," Justine breathed. "No! Murderer!"

"They never existed, Justine." The white woman smirked at Picard. "If you want further proof, I tattooed her, just behind her right ear. It says 'J375.'"

Justine grabbed her ear. "It does not."

"Check."

No one moved. No one spoke. Finally, Justine turned to Troi. "Does it?" she whispered, her eyes bright with fear. Troi moved closer, gently turned Justine's head, and pushed back her ear flap with one finger.

"Oh, Gods," Troi whispered. "J375."

Justine began to pant with fear. "It's not true. I know it's not true."

"Even more proof, Justine? I can cut your strings and expose the puppet that you are. Activate code 43, authorized Miranda."

Justine collapsed, hitting the floor so quickly it was as if she were thrown down. With a gasp, Troi fell beside her and felt for a pulse. "Medical emergency to the brig, officer down, no pulse! Medical emergency!"

"No need," the white woman said calmly. "Deactivate code 43, authorized Miranda."

Justine sat up with a gasp, a bruise purpling on one cheek.

"You see, Justine? I built you. I created you. You are my masterpiece and it's time to come home. With me."

"You have no claim on her!" Picard barked. "She's an officer and a grown woman, and -"

"A grown woman?" the white woman shrieked with laughter. "Justine is four years old."