At the very edge of town, near the massive sea wall that held back the swelling oceans, there was a collection of crumbling houses that had long since been deemed unfit for human habitation and were subsequently abandoned. Inside, in a large family room somewhere near the center, the replicant known only as the Surgeon was washing his instruments with his two companions, Flannery and Winona. Suddenly, a group of women came bursting through where the door had once been, each shouting over each other in the loudest possible voices.

The Surgeon nodded at Flannery, who put two fingers between her lips and let out a whistle so sharp, it made tiny cracks appear in an old glass vase near the couch. The women stopped shouting and turned their attention towards the man in the long coat, walking towards them as he put on his protective gloves.

"Who needs treatment?"

One girl stepped forward. "Our friend was shot. The wound doesn't look too serious, but it needs to be closed and treated."

The "friend" in question was a young woman of about 25-26 years, wearing the same risqué clothes as the rest of the bunch. On close examination, the Surgeon could make out a bullet wound just above the abdomen, covered with a crude bandage.

"I see. Put her down there." He gestured to a bare spot on the ground, where Sarah was laid down.

Removing the bandage, the Surgeon examined the wound. "Well, you're lucky, my dear. Looks like the round went straight through, so there's no need for surgery. A proper bandage will be needed to get the healing process started, but otherwise you'll be fine."

As he applied the bandage, the women split up and wandered about the room, talking with each other or marveling at how well-kept the floors, walls, and ceilings were. Mariette was sitting by herself on the couch when she felt two other bodies land next to her. They turned out to be Flannery and Winona.

The three started talking. "So, how did you two end up with a guy like him?"

"He found us living out of a box behind his place. We'd been close as sisters back when we worked in the colonies, and when they sent us back home to be retired, we fled and tried to make our own way in the world. Too bad this world isn't made for our kind."

"Retired? They're only supposed to do that with older models."

"Trust me, it happens to all models. The companies don't want us wandering around, making trouble and taking up valuable space. Retirement is quick and effective, and best of all, it's cheap."

"Anyway, when Doc over there found us, he took us into his own home. We knew how to keep a place tidy, so he had us scrub out all the dirt, fix the power and heating, and generally try to make the place livable again."

"And what about your names? Flannery and Winona?"

"Well, Doc insisted that we have real names if we were going to live with him. He had this old deck of cards, and he told us to pick one each at random. I picked Flannery, and she got Winona."

As she said this, Mariette noticed that Flannery was twirling a finger through her hair.

"Ah yes. The hair. Well, see, those cards had some nice pictures on them, and we decided to try to match them. You know, since we took their names. The clothes weren't hard to come by, but the hair...well, let's just say those styles are harder to pull off then they look."

Flannery's own greasy locks were tied off in the back into a mess of stiff spikes, the formerly brunette strands stained red with dye. Winona's hair was a light purple, and pulled through the back of her pilot's cap in a long bushy ponytail.

"Well, at least you've tried something interesting. All I did was cut some bangs and chop off the rest."

It was at this point that the Surgeon saw an opportunity to interrupt. "Your friend will be fine for now, but I have to recommend that she have a day or two of rest so that her body can fix the damage properly."

Mariette thought over her options. "I don't feel comfortable bringing her back to the inner city. Too much stress, too much risk of damage. Could I leave her with you?"

"Well, as long as she can work, then I don't mind. It never hurts to have more hands around here."