For a room within such a highly regarded building, the auditorium was remarkable in the sense that it wasn't. The walls had been painted an unassuming gray, and the two windows had been blocked with blackout curtains. Any furniture with more than two shades of color had been removed, and the remainder had been arranged in slightly crooked rows. Perfect order would attract too much attention. The air in the room was tempered at twenty-five degrees Celsius, and the humidity a modest sixty percent. The only light in the room came from a desk placed a short distance from the engineered array of furniture, glowing a faint red the color of the old sunset. Two figures were seated at opposite sides of the desk, abask in this remnant memory of a dead world. 

"And can you tell me where the paintings are stashed?" asked Andrew Lim as he finished his notes, trying not to look directly at the child.

"Beneath the large chest in the attic, there's a wooden crate. The paintings are inside."

Janet was supposed to be five years old, but she had the demeanor of an adult, sitting upright in her chair, focusing her gaze right on Andrew. Some twenty kilometers away and one kilometer up, people in hazmat suits were listening in, stepping over debris and its blend of life and death as they did so. One of them surveyed the crashed-out attic and found the crate. The chest it had been under had fallen on its side, splaying its contents of knick-knacks and secrets. 

"We've found it, Andrew," came a voice over the man's head-set. 

"Ok," muttered Andrew through the microphone, trying to keep the child ignorant of what was transpiring. The child, however, was no fool.

"I can describe the painting if you'd like, Dr. Lim," Janet said firmly, making clear that she would do so no matter his response.

"Go ahead."

"The painting on top is a picture of my family. There will be four people in that painting; my father, my cousin Stanley, and my two kids Joy and Fabian. My father's wearing a farmer's hat and both my kids are wearing chequered shirts of red and white. My cousin Stanley's the only one wearing shorts."

Andrew made sure all this information was relayed to the other side. After about a minute, a response came back.

"It checks out. She's the real deal."

"Thank you, Damian," replied Andrew, no longer trying to evade Janet's observations of the obvious. He finished off with some additional notes and dismissed her, offering some gum as she got off her chair.

"No thanks. I didn't like sweets when I was Nick, and I still don't," was her reply. She walked out of the darkened room, stirring its air as she did so. Andrew sighed. This was the fifteenth case of reincarnation he had interviewed in the past four months, and it was just like all the others.

***

Normally, Andrew would have enjoyed a cold glass of water after an interview, but the frostiness of the liquid that day left him pining for his usual coffee vice. He opened the curtains to let in the artificial sunlight, but then remembered that the spires of the water-processing plant were in its way. He wondered if the curtains were really necessary, considering the spires weren't very much to look at. For a building within the so-called Sacred Circle, there really weren't a lot of words to describe it. Just then, the doors swung open with a heavy creak.

"Oh! Is the interview over already?" asked the bespectacled woman in the blazer and buttoned shirt. Her otherwise dignified top was balanced by her sweatpants and no-longer-white sneakers, which she dragged unabashedly, wooden floor be damned. 

"Yeah, she was who she said she was," said Andrew, taking another sip of water to hide his lament at the spire. "At this point, if the deniers are still denying then we'll need the fusion-scope results." 

Maya Roberts planted herself at Andrew's seat at the desk, looking through the notes he had scribbled. 

"Another one from old Toronto? Did everyone you interview have past lives in Canada?" she chuckled under a half-exclaim. 

"No... no. There were two from Michigan, and I think one from Minnesota, but they do tend to stay within former national boundaries."

"Huh!" the amusement on the woman's face had turned into a more serious contemplation. "You know, we might be on to something here!"

"Yes, Maya. I know you're really excited to prove the theory of reincarnation agency." Dr. Maya Roberts may be the Director and Andrew's supervisor, but the lack of any formal academic process meant there was no real power dynamic between the two of them. 

"Hey! This could be a matter of terrestrial security!" she retorted. "I'm sure I've told you this countless times!"

"Oh? And what about that kid who said he was a bus driver from China? I don't think we can confirm anything just yet!"

"Oh, come on! If you get to choose where you get reincarnated, there'll always be someone who plays out of left field."

Andrew sighed and placed his glass by the window, no longer interested in its now lukewarm contents. 

"There's still no progress on the fusion-scope front," he grumbled, taking the seat where the child had been in. "How much longer do you think it'll take?"

Maya began to rub her knuckles, a knowing grin forming on her face.

"I just came from a meeting," she said, leaning towards Andrew.

"A video meeting?" asked Andrew, glancing at his supervisor's casual half. 

"No... Anyway, I think we might be able to give you something even better," she emphasized the last three words with orchestral gestures. "There may be someone who can help you, and I mean actually help you."

Andrew's initial melancholy dissolved into the diluted light, replaced by the rapid pumping of anticipation. Could it be that his supervisor was finally honoring her promise? 

"Who's that?" he asked, the words firing off the tip of his tongue.

"I'm not going to tell you yet," she said, taking some delight in the anticlimax. "This is a top-secret matter, and the CMC has told me to only tell you when it's time to meet them."

Andrew frowned and leaned back in his chair. It was now more of obligatory contempt than an actual annoyance at his often spontaneous supervisor. 

"You lie, the CMC never told you that."

"Yeah, you got me. I thought of it myself. The CMC trusts you enough, and I do too. But I don't trust your tongue in the heat of passion."

"What?"

"Priya's coming home tonight, am I right?"

Andrew's frown grew deeper.

"How did you know that?"

"I have access to your calendar! Remember?" laughed Maya, slapping the desk as she did so.

"Damn it!"

***

The Central Business District is the third level of the underground metropolis known as Terran City. With an area of five hundred square kilometers and a peak height of a hundred meters, it is the largest underground dwelling humanity has ever built. It is home to about ten percent of the city's five million, but it is where sixty percent find jobs. Among them are the people who work in the central area, known as the Sacred Circle. Here, the water-processing plant, the atmosphere-processing plant, the artificial sunlight generator, internet providers, and the agricultural units find their place. Right in the middle is the Center for Reincarnation Studies, or CRS for short. Run by the great Maya Roberts, it is the only formal institution dedicated to the scientific study of life after death.       

Andrew's behavior that evening was quite different from the one he had earlier. At eight that morning, he had downed three hefty cups of coffee at Sino's Cafe while complaining about his work to all who would listen. At six in the evening, he was walking with a slight jig in his gait, saluting Sino with a swing of his finger gun. There were still two hours before Priya was set to return, and the Cafe was a great place to wait while snacking on the best tarts in Terran City. 

"Wow! You're looking happy! Sounds like work wasn't so bad after all, huh?" said Sino as he flipped over the board menu to the dinner entrees. 

"Ah, don't be fooled, my friend," said Andrew, wiggling his body as he took a seat by the counter. "There are things to be happy about, but Maya enjoys tormenting me with incomplete information. You can think of this as blocking out her psychic assaults through kinesthetic feedback."

"Dude, you gotta be careful using that kind of language. One might think you meant actual psychic assaults."

Talking to Sino requires some imagination. With two large photoreceptors for a head and a voice like a screen reader's, Sino was the type of droid who won't show much emotion. His old body was one with a full range of facial movements, but that was now a thing of a past most would rather forget. 

"And as I've said a gazillion times, reincarnation attacks aren't psychic, they're higher-dimensional. Ah whatever, I don't have a real Ph.D. anyway."

Sino's treads hummed as he rolled behind the counter. He grabbed a carton of milk from the fridge before proceeding to roll towards the Espresso Maker. Psychic powers have not been confirmed to exist, but the bond between Andrew and Sino might have been a good starting point for investigation. They had known each other since the days of war, and Sino always knew what Andrew wanted every time he walked in. All he needed to do was sit by the counter.

"And as I've told you a gazillion times, it's not your fault your studies were interrupted. Anyway, you're doing Reincarnation Science now! Isn't that much better than... whatever it was you were doing, erm... that physics thing."

"That physics thing is what I'll call it then. I'd rather not talk about the past."

Andrew reached for the cup of coffee Sino had placed on the counter. It was then that he spotted the scratches on Sino's arms, a blemish in the otherwise polished bronze. 

"Sino! What's that?!" Andrew grabbed Sino's claw-like hands, then released it with apologies. 

"Oh that... It's silly, I... tripped and fell," said Sino, averting his photoreceptors from Andrew's concern. 

"What's silly is that you expect me to believe that!" Andrew retorted. "You got assaulted again, didn't you?"

For a moment, Andrew thought he saw Sino's old face, eyes blinking and nostrils flaring with embarrassment. Without the all-powerful Sun Dancer Organization, droids were no longer protected by any formal law. Intelligent ones like Sino bore the brunt of new hostilities.

"Two men and a woman," Sino replied softly. "Just outside the Mole." 

Andrew's coffee seemed to get hotter with the heat he was feeling. The animosity towards droids already left a bad taste in his mouth, but the fact that Sino was a victim made him want to throw up. How could people be so awful to someone who had fought for humanity's survival, especially since he's not even human! 

"It's those MoFos from the School of Reincarnation, isn't it?!"

"Keep your voice down!" Sino pleaded with a pressing motion. "We don't want any trouble here!"

Andrew looked around at the dining tables behind him. There were a few customers steadily working on their drinks, but no one paid them any mind. Sino's Cafe wasn't much of a dinner place, so Andrew loved coming here to take advantage of the droid's attention after work. A few weeks ago, a group of teenagers had thrown rocks at the windows, shouting 'Soulless Chump' as they did so. Andrew had managed to grab one of them, and it had taken Sino's fervent pleas to stop him from doing something he'd later regret. 

"That's why I didn't want to tell you," said Sino as he placed a pie in the oven. "I know how much you hate those guys."

"What decent person wouldn't hate them? They constantly antagonize droids for the stupidest reason, and they give the CRS a bad name. Do you know how many people mistake us for them? I can't believe they have the audacity to use school in their name."

"Well, what are we to do?" asked Sino as he brought over another cup of coffee. Andrew looked sheepishly at his now-empty vessel, realizing he had swallowed it in his rage. Like about a dozen others in history, he consumes coffee and alcohol as if they were the same thing.

"We should petition the CMC to clamp down on their activities. For crying out loud, these loons want to invite the Lemurians back! That's a threat to terrestrial security, is it not?"

"And as you yourself have just said, they are loons. The CMC can't afford to take them seriously, just the ones dumb enough to trip up."

"Dude! What do we pay twenty percent tax for?!"

There was a soft snapping of fingers from a man at one of the tables, his ears having picked up on Andrew's gibe. 

"Look, maybe they'll listen to me," Andrew leaned farther across the counter. "I've served in the defense, and I also work in the CRS. Maya's bringing me to their headquarters tomorrow, maybe I can find someone to talk to."

"Is that really how the world turns these days?" laughed Sino. "I'm not sure that's how government works!"

"It's hardly a government! It's a militia! The Central Militia Command!" exclaimed Andrew as he clapped the back of his hand into the other palm. 

"They collect taxes, they're a government."

"That's not... " Andrew paused mid-sentence and frowned, unsure how to respond to something that straddled the edges of truth.

"Andrew," said Sino, now offering his own hands for comfort. "I'm fine, don't let these morons get in your head. Look, if they damage me, I can just switch bodies! I've already done it once!"

Andrew scarfed down the coffee, ignoring the spills on his shirt.

"Yeah, but the old you still dies."

Sino decided it was best to leave that alone. For the next hour, their conversations were limited to cakes and how to bake them.

***

Andrew's apartment is located within the first residential district, often referred to as 1RD. It is the level just above the Business District, occupying a significantly smaller area of only fifty square kilometers. Once used as the militia's ammunition storage, it is now where the elites of Terran City call home. To live here, one needs to either hold a commanding position in the CMC or work in a vital position within the Sacred Circle. As a researcher in the CRS, Andrew automatically qualifies. 

"Alright, be careful here, that's hot," Andrew said as he placed the bowl of Chicken Masala on the table. 

"Aww, you're using your monthly meat rations on me? How sweet!" said Priya Acharya, with cutlery already in hand. 

"Oh, don't worry about it. I don't eat much meat anyway." 

Andrew gave Priya a peck on the forehead before heading off to get some rice. 

"So how was Neo-Windsor?" he asked from the kitchen.  

"It was good!" said Priya as she slopped a chunk on her plate. "Not as grand as Terran, but then again, what is?"

"Oh ya? Anything interesting at work?"

"Well, the Mole might have a new stop soon."

"Really?" Andrew poked his head around the corner of the doorway. "They've found another dwelling?"

"Yep! Located about five kilometers north of Grand Rapids, Michigan. Or was that miles? Anyway, it seems like they have a population of about seven thousand there, so we're more than happy to connect with them."

"Oh neat! But I guess that means you'll have to spend more time away from here, huh?" 

Andrew returned with a hearty serving of rice, setting it down on the table with a good, hefty thud.

"Wow, that's a lot of carbs!" exclaimed Priya. 

"Yeah, you know, for stamina later tonight," Andrew smiled with a wink. 

"Oh, Andy... " Priya put down her spoon. "Can we not do that tonight? I'm kind of tired from my travels. Besides, don't you have to get up early tomorrow?"

"Ok... fine..." Andrew got up to return some rice to the cooker. "You know as much as I appreciate Maya finally taking some action, I wonder if she timed it just to mess with me." 

Priya remained silent at that comment, once again picking up her spoon. 

"What.. you don't think she's trying to break us up, do you?" asked Andrew.

"No, it's not that. I've met the woman, she's weird but not heartless. It's just... you know... you spending time away from me for, you know, that thing, when I might be going away for quite a while pretty soon."

The lights in the room appeared to take on the quality of that in the auditorium at CRS. The waft of herbs and spices seemed to pause mid-air, hanging in front of their noses as if unsure what to do. 

"Is this... Are you still not convinced this is real?" Andrew asked, slightly amused.

"I've told you this before... are we really doing this again?"

Andrew stared down at his bowl, nodding while bringing in a sharp inhale. He had met deniers but never had he dreamed of dating one. At least she wasn't in the One Life Society, of that he was sure. He began to think, the spices resuming their march into his psyche, filling his thoughts with their fiery sharpness. 

"I think... the reason why you're not convinced is that no one has explained it properly to you," he said, putting down his fork while bringing his palms together. "What do you know of it?"

"That it's some process occurring in higher dimensions of space-time, which honestly seems to be what you physicists throw in every time you can't work something out."

"Ok, first off, I may have a fake Ph.D. in physics, but I am not a physicist. Second, that explanation was probably given to you by someone who doesn't actually understand how anything works."

"You were the one who explained it," she said, a grin forming on her face. Andrew breathed a sigh of relief; the tension was broken.

"Whatever. Let me just grab this napkin here."

Andrew whipped out a pen from his pocket and started drawing on the napkin. He had drawn these scribbles countless times but never once had he drawn them for Priya. Better late than never, he figured. 

"Ok, now imagine we're all two-dimensional shapes living in a two-dimensional world."

"Oh! Like in Flatland!"

"Yes, like in Flatland, except in a Militia-controlled society rather than one with Victorian values. Anyway, let's say you are this square. Attached to you by this string is a balloon, floating above you in the third spatial dimension, one that you as a two-dimensional being cannot see or even comprehend. This balloon is your soul. You follow so far?"

Priya nodded while looking intently upon the napkin.

"Ok, so when you die, this string unties from the square and sets the balloon free. It then floats to another two-dimensional shape which under normal circumstances is new life. That's how a soul travels from one life to the other."

"So what makes the string untie from the square? And how does it know which new square to go to?" asked Priya as she twirled her fork.

"That's one of the many things the CRS is looking into. We do know this process takes some time, and thanks to so many people meeting sudden ends during the invasion, we were able to take advantage of this for our studies."

"Hmm... well good for you I guess."

Andrew brushed off that remark with a flick of his hand.

"When a person dies suddenly, such as when they're killed, the balloon doesn't have enough time to detach from the square completely and will bring some pieces of the old square into the new one. This is often seen as past-life recollection or birthmarks in children. Now, do you remember what I told you about the confirmed reincarnation cases?"

"Most of them report dying violent deaths, like getting bombed by Lemurian crafts?"

"Exactly! In fact, even before the invasion, reports have already surfaced involving deaths by murder or car accidents. Such cases were what prompted us to look in this direction."

"Huh! That's interesting," admitted Priya.

"So, are you convinced now?"

"Well, it makes sense when you say it like that, but everything still sounds like conjecture to me. Where's the proof?"

"The proof?" Andrew sighed incredulously. "Priya, we won the war because we learned their understanding and reincarnation technology! You know of the possession guards! Those are Maya's inventions!" 

Priya had just about finished her share of the Chicken Masala and was silently contemplating everything she had just learned.

"I believe there is something that happened, that we cannot fully comprehend. Whatever it was allowed us to win the war. I believe the children you've interviewed have been affected by this something. But Andy, I'm having trouble accepting it as reincarnation. I'm still getting over the fact that aliens are real!" 

Andrew walked over to Priya and embraced her from behind the chair, whispering into her ear. She likes the touch of his breath on its contours, a tickle like a breeze that once flowed over lost meadows. 

If only he knew more tricks of intimacy.

"That's ok, dear. I know this is very different from the stuff you did at Sun Dancer, but you'll come over in time."

Andrew knew that reincarnation wasn't a complete science, but secretly, he wished Priya would adapt a little faster. It would be nice if she knew what it meant to lose a soul, to have no afterlife waiting for him. To his knowledge, he was the only human who can never be reincarnated, the only one facing the void of eternal oblivion.