Natasha Collier wanted my life story. That was going to be tricky. I would tell her as much of the truth as I dared, but not all of it. I didn't know ...er, and I wasn't about to put either her or myself in jeopardy. That was another of my necessary rules -- trust no one.I usually had a sixth sense about people, but it wasn't infallible, and I was still wary about what might lie in the future. As much as I'd like to get to know Ms. Collier, I had to keep to my self-imposed policy. That didn't. Or at least you meet for coffee before going off to someplace you don’t even know. But there was something about this guy. It wasn’t just his good looks or his tall athletic build. It was something about the way he carried himself. A slow fluidity, a smoothness, a confidence. Like he knew just where he was going all the time. Like a river that’s swollen from a recent rain.So you hadn’t said “No,” or asked what this Art Cinema was all about because you wanted to seem like you knew. You. "The next most likely possibility is that she may survive as a set ofimpulses and abilities that will manifest as whichever baby shetransferred into grows and develops. You may notice this baby makingmore rapid progress in certain milestones. She would know what to do,but be limited by her body's development. As she gets older you couldsee her have an affinity for things from her previous life. She couldhave a particular talent for basic things like language or certain likesand dislikes. She. “Get lost, scum,” ordered the guard, giving me my out.I scrambled up to my feet, still dripping from the guard’s piss-bath, and hurried out of the security office. As I emerged from the office, Piss-master was leading cock-master in my direction, and the three of us headed towards the mall exit. There were few shoppers left, but those there to witness our departure watched wide eyed at the somewhat bizarre spectacle. In addition to me…looking like the stinking cheap male-whore that I.