"If you can block signals, you can change them, too."

"Watching too many old Hologram novels, Sylvie? Trust no one. Little green men.

Funny how long the mythology lasts."

Still wary, she probes. "Wow. Maybe not green men, but close."

"Hey, you guys look pretty bizarre to us, too."

Then she feels the fear shiver through. Not her fear. His. And sees.

She reaches out for the nearest chair and sits. "Whoa."

"That's one way of saying it."

She looks up, "You, too?"

"Yeah. Me, too.

Her eyes widen, and she speaks quietly, though no one else is there, "You were a female once — I can't seem to pronounce the name."

"Something like Zhing."

"So changing wasn't just to create a new identity, to run from our Curse."

"Good word for it. No." After a subtle prod, "And it wasn't for you either, I see."

"No it wasn't. It was . . ."

". . . to become real — who you really knew you were, Jonathan always a Sylvania at heart."

"And Todd always living inside Zhing."

They tap each other's thoughts respectfully. Of course, Todd sees the paradox: "Despite how far your culture has come, it still seems awkward about such things."

"Yeah, but go figure — they develop the very technology to make reassignment nearly flawless."

"Welcome to the universe of contradictions."

"I think in my case," Sylvie offers, "they didn't see it as 'reassignment'. They saw it as extreme witness protection, their choice more than mine."

" . . . 'by any other name'."

"Of course, all you had to do was morph. I, on the other hand," pointing to her fabulous make-up and hair, "had to do this the old-fashioned way."

Todd has the first good laugh he's had in awhile.

"Anyway," she moves on, feeling more at ease, "how long?"

"My change? Or running away?"

"Both. About the same time, right?"

Todd pulls up a nearby chair. "Yes, both. About like you — changed and on the run for about fifteen years."

"Why here?"

"Same as you. It's far. Of course, I wasn't expecting to find someone like you," he laughs, "like me."

Sylvie looks deeper. "I'm seeing a beautiful planet, lots of forests, rivers."

"It was a great place."

She gasps, "Mars?"

"Yup. Mars. Before we screwed it all up. Actually, we're from . . ."

" . . . Alpha Centauri." But she catches herself. "Sorry. I forget how nice it is to have a 'normal' conversation — not to read the last page of the book first; I won't interrupt you any more. Promise." She crosses her heart, smiles at him and realizes, he is cute.

A thought which makes him blush, but he continues, "No problem. Yes, it's nice to do this the old fashioned way. Experiencing the actual spoken word can be beautiful. I forgot that when I was doing all my undercover work. No words, just dig in for the thoughts."

"And what thanks did we get?"

"Not much, right? The government loved us and our enemies tried to kill us. Whoever said ignorance is bliss should be kissed."

"Twice over."

"Anyhow . . . the Centaurians colonized a few planets in your system, and each one did themselves in. Atlantis on Earth, Salamis on Mars, Telango on Venus."

"Technology."

"Yup. Too much. Destroyed themselves. A bunch of us Martians developed shapeshifting techniques-so we survived the Disaster. I don't know about the Atlantians or Telangans. Maybe they did, too."

"On Earth," Sylvie leans forward as if telling a wondrous tale to a youngster, "there's always been a kind of pop-culture, pseudo-history regarding Atlantis. Atlantians built the pyramids. Atlantians created the sun calendars of the Aztecs. Atlantians this, Atlantians that. But a lost race; no survivors."

"Well, nothing was left on Mars, either. You've found the microscopic evidence of life, the evidence of oceans and rivers, but all the cities are gone, vaporized when Olympus Mons blew its top and our machines self-destructed."

"So not only could you change shapes, you could also read minds?"

"Not all of us. Like you, just a few had the ability. The morphing survivors fled on ships we'd hidden in the Polar Regions — some made it to Earth. I've heard they're still there — as wolves, no less. Because they thought they were beautiful."

"Living la vida lupo?" she chuckles.

"Something like that," smiling back.

"Guess that accounts for all the werewolf stories."

"Probably. Others went out of the system and back to Centauri. Like me."

"And you found things different?"

"That puts it mildly. We'd been away for generations. Our shapeshifting was not appreciated, so we refrained, but when some of us — like me — were found to have The Gift, we got drummed into service in a hurry. Every political faction in our system wanted a piece of us — the money was phenomenal. But I don't have to tell you, do I?"

"The money was great until I was spending more time in hiding than living."

"Ditto. So I escaped."

"Yeah, but you had it easy. You could morph into a rock and hitch a ride through the Oort Cloud on a comet or an asteroid. I had to rely on space craft, surgery, and lots of gene manipulation to get here." She adds with a playful wink, "Cheater."