"Every fucking whim?" she all but snarled. "I walk into that building and have to pass through a sonic cleanser—hence the standard-issue robes. Once I enter the actual Enclave, I'm not allowed clothes, oranythingindividualized. Not even afucking name. I get hooked into my care bay, which is exactly four feet wide, and left there until another equation is assigned to me. Which fuckingwhimdoes that satisfy?"
"Riss," Sin breathed, moving to her side. "It's not his fault. I thought the same thing, remember?"
"But why?" she asked. "What did I do to make everyone hate me so much before I even talk to them?"
"I feel like an ass," Davis said. "I'm sorry, Ingénue."
She turned her eyes to him. "Why would you think that?"
"It's, uh…" He looked to Julie for help.
But it was Zan who answered. "OutLink runs commercials," he said. "It's all promoting their portfolio of consulting services, but there's a section where they mention Ingénue. The screen shows a woman in a luxury apartment pulling on a blue robe. Then there's the price of your services. Last year, there was a big blowup about human rights, and yeah. Ingénue were brought up, so OutLink made it clear their team of 'carefully selected cyborg problem-solvers' were pampered."
"But we're not," Rissa said, looking at each priest in turn. "We're treated like equipment."
"How was I supposed to know that?" Davis asked.
Sin just held up his hand, making it clear the man should stop talking. "There are stories out there, Riss. People talking about things they've heard an Ingénue say. I now know that's a load of crap, but with so many things pointing to the same conclusion? It paints a very vivid picture, and we have no way of knowing otherwise because none of you complain."
"Because we don't want our minds to be wiped," she whimpered. "Maybe I should. It was easier before. I just did what I was told, and it was ok."
"I'm not letting them wipe you, Riss," he assured her. "That's why we need this file. Whatever you have in your head is tied to why someone's trying to hurt you. If we can expose what's going on with that chemical, then maybe we can tell the public about the problems in the Enclave at the same time."
"I still need a terminal," she said, looking up at him.
"I'll get it," Zan said, hurrying to the door. "Be right back!"
"Are you actually taking her back?" Julie asked, her words falling into the silence that had taken over the room.
Sin rubbed his hands over his face. "We have to. No other option. I figure we can stall about four more hours before we have a problem."
"You gonna be able to make it another day?" Julie asked her.
The corner of Rissa's lip twitched. "I can make it. I just can't have this data in my head. They'll find it."
"We gotta get her out," Trent said. "We protect the weak."
"There's eighty-five more," she reminded him.
"You first," Julie said. "They come next."
The words were barely out of her mouth before the door latch clicked. All five priests pulled guns, lowering them only when Zan pushed inside, the steel sliding closed behind him. He saw and grinned like it was some big joke.
"I said I'd be right back!" he teased. In his hands was a large metal box. "Got some serious old-school stuff here. Just one problem."
"Bio-linked?" Rissa asked.
"Yeah. I'm guessing it's the only thing I have that's gonna hold what you got." He shrugged.
She glanced away and nodded, but Sin knew that one now. She didn't like it.
"What?" he asked.
"She feels the connection," Zan explained. "For her to access this, it's kinda personal."
"Personal?" Sin looked between the two, hoping for a little clarification.
Zan set the case on the floor. "I need a screen and a second polyoptic cable."
