Three days passed in complete numbness. Had she been in such a state of mind, Tina would have marveled at how little anything changed.

Arman did not return her phone calls, texts, or emails. Eventually she realized they were not being read or received at all, and that she was bombarding him with them, so she stopped. She showed up at work every day, did her job, and left, without seeing Alain or Christian at all; the former, she knew, was managing a project at one of Moynacorp's test sites; the other had meetings across the country he was meant to attend but was more likely locked away in the Black Laboratory. There was no one else she knew well enough to trust. The android she was built into had the capacity for tears, but not so many; they wore away at her carefully manufactured skin, leaving her cheeks and hands blotched and worn. She cried alone at night, and alone in her car, anywhere but her office if she could help it; she could not always, as the sadness came upon her suddenly and without controls.

All around her, the rest of the world moved on.

Four days after the disaster, Tina woke up tired for the first time. Her body had not been built to react in such a way. It was efficient, clean, reliable. The exhaustion, she realized, was in her mind, manifesting psychosomatically.

She prepared for work anyway, but on the drive there was forced to pull over to the side of the interstate due to being unable to see. This was not unusual. What was different was that a black luxury car pulled up behind her.

Her built-in defense protocol kicked in, an automated process that thankfully worked despite her state of mind. The intelligence identified the car's make and model, down to the year, and ran a scan of all known owners of that car in New Orleans, all in under a second. The most relevant result matched the identity of the person who stepped out of the car: Jaime Rennick.

Tina was not sure how to react. Jaime was a close friend of Christian's, but, unlike Alain, Jaime kept secrets at his own discretion. Perhaps she could convince him not to speak of this to her boss and creator.

"Hey, Tina! I thought I recognized your car. Is everything okay?" Jaime was leaning in through her front passenger window. His tone suggested that he already knew the answer.

She gestured for him to sit in the car. "It's nothing. I mean... it's everything." Tina shook her head quickly. "I made a mistake that may have hurt someone, in many ways. I can't reach him, he won't answer me. I don't know what's going on." She sighed. "I may have compromised Christian's project as well."

"Forget his project. He's got safeguards on safeguards." Jaime gave her one of his characteristic grins, slightly muted. "As for who you hurt... you can't do anything unless you know for sure, right? You tried to reach out."

Tina just nodded.

"You've done what you can. The rest is up to him. He might reach out. He might not. But you tried, which means if he does respond, he's willing to work it out. If he doesn't, he's an idiot. And maybe also an asshole."

Tina flinched. "Hard truths," Jaime said. "Right now I guess you feel like he's everything. But if he is indeed an asshole, then you deserve better. No, go ahead and cry. It's okay."

By then Tina was crying again. She had learned to hide the tattered skin behind foundation and concealer, and had been wise enough to choose waterproof makeup. Jaime handed her a tissue, and she dabbed at her eyes. Then he wrapped an arm around her and hugged her until she was calm again.

"Okay. I'm gonna drive you home. You don't need to be at work today."

"Work helps." Tina sniffled. "I don't think about it as much."

"Fair enough. But I'm still driving. Scootch over."

Jaime got out of the passenger seat, and Tina moved into it. He settled in behind the wheel. "You're leaving a Jaguar on the side of the road," Tina pointed out as he merged into traffic.

"But I'm making sure a friend gets to work safely." Jaime shot me another grin. "Besides, it would take a team of experts to steal my car. It would be fun to see someone try."

For the first time in days, Tina felt herself smile a bit. Then she remembered to ask. "You won't tell...."

"Nope. Not a soul. Not even your boss." He nodded. "Just take care of yourself. That's all I ask."

—

No sooner had Tina taken a seat at her desk than the intercomms blinked, highlighting the extension to Christian Moynahan's office. She stood and very reluctantly opened the door that connected her office to his.

He barely looked at her, just kept typing with his left hand while holding out a slip of paper with his right. Tina had to walk up to his desk and take the paper from him.

"This isn't my job," Christian said, his attention still apparently on the computer monitor in front of him. "You're lucky I do take messages from Cicely Riva."

Cicely Riva? Did this have to do with Arman? Tina started to ask, but Christian waved her away. "You're excused for the rest of the day."

Tina turned and started back toward the door. "Stop," Christian said.

She turned once again. Christian was looking at her. "7C."

They ventured down to the Black Laboratory in silence. That silence held even as Christian removed the gloves Tina had worn to cover her damaged skin, wiped away the makeup from her face, and then carefully cut away the affected skin everywhere, replacing it with fresh layers. He managed to accomplish it all in under half an hour, and after that Tina admitted silently that she both looked and felt much better.

"Now you should go," Christian said.

With a small nod of thanks and deference, Tina left, and headed straight for the address indicated on Cicely Riva's message.

—-

Few buildings in New Orleans were built above a certain height. The Moynahan skyscraper was, but its important levels were the lower ones. There was the Maelstrom building, close to the river; the Brotherhood building, with its many offices; and a couple of other multi-company complexes as well. There was also Energy Riva.

It had little to do with height; everyone knew how prone New Orleans was to hurricanes. What it functioned as was an unspoken agreement within a small, successful part of the business sector: that the city would become a major center of industry under their care, and that its skyline would reflect that accomplishment.

Tina found herself looking up at the Energy Riva headquarters, trying to calculate how many floors it had. It appeared she would be headed to the very top floor. For some reason, Cicely Riva wanted to meet her in person.

She headed inside, to the receptionist, and had barely started to give her name when the receptionist interrupted her. "Yes. Take this card, find Elevator Three, and swipe to access the top floor."

Tina did exactly that, and was soon on her way up. There was a chime and a light blinked next to a flat black square. Guessing, Tina tapped the card against it. The doors opened.

What she walked into looked more like a command center than an office. There were a few men and women seated here and there, in front of multiple monitors and lots of technology. "ID, please," one woman stated as Tina stepped out of the elevator.

"She's with me. Thank you, Kathleen." A dark-haired, stern-faced woman stepped forward. Tina recognized her effortlessly as Cicely Riva.

The city's business community was run by the Eccentrics, but Riva had made her own name as well, and was mostly respected by her peers, aside from the fact that she looked more like a supermodel than a CEO. She responded to that by dressing in what Jaime called "business runway."

"Ms. Riva," Tina said hurriedly as the woman led her away by her elbow. "Thank you so much for the invitation. Although, I must confess I am unsure what it is for."

She did not reply. Instead, she unlocked a door, which swung open onto a fair-sized office. It was filled from top to bottom with the most advanced technology - including handwritten notes in coding that even Tina had trouble analyzing - but the most striking feature of the office was its view. Ceiling-to-floor windows overlooked the city, even to the river, and out to the French Quarter. It was almost like standing in the sky.

"Your office is breathtaking," Tina said softly, with a small, relaxed smile. There was something comfortable about being so high, surrounded by little more than sky. "And your technology is impressive."

"A shadow of what you're used to with Moynahan, I'm sure," Riva said dryly. "But this is Mr. Aretas' office."

Tina blinked several times. When Arman had spoken of working security, this was not what she had imagined.

"Imagine hiring a man whose entire career consists of NSA operations, the vast majority of which are classified. But his technical skills were impeccable, and he started as a security manager. But he identified and corrected so many vulnerabilities in our programs that I promoted him to chief security officer."

Riva nodded toward the windows.

"He made me aware of his condition when he and Linda started building their contingency plans, so I made this office space available to him. He designed the rest himself, in addition to overhauling our security strategy. Everything you saw outside was him."

Tina glanced outside and nodded slowly.

"But now there is no one inside this office, and there hasn't been for four days. The contingency is active. I'd never thought it would be necessary, since he seemed well-adjusted to me. I understand you're partly to blame for his current condition."

"Current condition?" Tina did not bother to hide her confusion. "I don't know what his condition is. I haven't heard from him."

Riva did not seem to care. "He's been asking for you. Linda and I refused, of course, until I found out who you were. Then I placed a call to your creator and sent for you."

Tina shivered. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to fix it. Whatever happened, you're responsible, and the resolution falls on you. That's how I operate." She gave me a hard look. "I'll give you the address. Go now. I don't want to hear from you again until my CSO is back, safe and sound."

"Yes, Ms. Riva." Tina bit her lip.

She gave a sharp nod toward the door, and Tina left, utterly confounded. What had she done?

---

Riva texted Tina an address. How the woman got her phone number, Tina was not sure. The address, however, pointed her just outside the city, in a quieter, more residential area not far from the river. Contrasted with the city, it was almost idyllic.

Situated on nearly twenty acres of carefully manicured land, River's Edge Mental Hospital was a set of widespread buildings, each dedicated to different facets of psychology - trauma, addiction, pediatrics, grief, others. Most of the general adult population was placed together, in the main building. The receptionist guarding the entrance, however, directed Tina to a different part of campus.

She was escorted by a nurse. Visiting time would not begin for several hours - it was barely ten o'clock - but patients in the Immediate Care ward were allowed more flexibility. Theirs were the more extreme cases, and they were kept separate from the other patients, away from most communication with the rest of the world.

Cautiously, Tina entered the ward. The nurse led her down a long corridor of rooms, then knocked at a door. There was no response. She knocked again. "Locate 5C," she finally said into a small microphone attached to her shirt. An answer came swiftly through her earpiece, and she turned and led Tina through a back door.

There was a wide stretch of yard outside, green and neat, with a path that wound through a small, humble garden. From the back door, Tina could see all the way to the levee, and the river. A set of tables and chairs were assembled not far from the building, but one chair had been moved farther away, and in it, with his back to the building and the door, was a man with curly brown hair and light brown skin.

Slowly, Tina walked over to him. His gaze was fixed on the horizon; for the first time, she did not see liveliness or humor in his gaze. There was only emptiness, blankness, as though he had retreated inside himself. But then he closed his eyes.

She remained next to him, standing, for some time, unsure what else to do, or what to say. She was not even sure that he had noticed her presence, or whether he had noticed but was not acknowledging her. Finally, he said in a perfectly normal tone of voice, "This is only a precaution."

"A precaution?" Tina looked at him and frowned. "What for? Are you in danger?"

"Only from myself." He started to chuckle, but stopped himself. Then he glanced up at Tina. "Since you're here, I take it you've been read in."

"Somewhat. I only know that you were assigned to Japan."

"That should say enough." Arman looked away again. "Every one of us left there knowing we'd been changed. Most of us set up contingencies. In my case, should I have an... episode, I'm to be removed from public, out of the city, and away from stressful stimuli."

Tina knelt next to Arman. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you."

"No, you shouldn't have." Arman looked at her again. "As much as we hate to admit it, some Gifteds are very powerful, and I am one of them. Hell, I was a problem even before my 'gifts' manifested. The 'superintelligence' bit is government mandated."

Tina sighed and closed her eyes. Then Arman added, "But aside from my one comment on our first date, you couldn't have known. I don't blame you. No one does."

Since Tina had two different CEOs on her case about the matter, she was less sure about who was being blamed, but she did not comment on that. Arman seemed to sense her uncertainty, and tapped his leg. "Sit."

Warily, Tina did as instructed.

"My name is Arman Aranth Aretas," he said quietly. "My family is from all over the Middle East. I know its cultures and I'm fluent in eight of its languages. But I was born in Illinois." At that he gave a small smile. "You can hardly get more American than the Midwest."

He wrapped an arm around her. "I had both parents, and a little brother. Saoul. He's an Aspie. So while my parents focused on getting him the attention he needed, I grew up on my own. Taught myself everything. Helped Saoul where I could.

"Fast forward to my college graduation. I had dual degrees in business and engineering. But it turned out the NSA had been watching me, and an agent approached me that day. Since 9/11 had just happened not a year before, I thought I was in some kind of trouble. But they hired me instead."

He exhaled. "So began a career of secrecy and double identities and seeing far too much. In the field Linda was my partner, although she was CIA. Lin was with me in Japan. She has a contingency much like mine."

Tina took his hands in hers. "Arman, I'm so, so sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for." He closed his eyes.

"What happened after our fight?" she asked softly.

He sighed. "I had a panic attack in an elevator full of my neighbors. Beyond that, I'd rather not talk about it."

Frowning, Tina asked slowly, "Are you telling me these things, Arman, because you want me to know them or because I asked?"

He did not respond immediately. Instead his gaze drifted toward the river. "Does it matter?"

Tina sighed. "I don't know how to help you, Arman."

"You are helping. You're here. Most times that's all I need."

She leaned her head against his.

"And, on occasion, to be heavily medicated, and at rare moments, restrained." He said that in a dryly humorous tone. More earnestly, he added, "But most of all, someone to be patient and understand."

Tina nodded. "I will try."

She stayed with him for the rest of the day. They talked about birds, and the garden, and the ever-warming New Orleans weather; they talked about the sun as it set and the sky changed colors. As she left that evening, to return the next day, and the next until Arman recovered, she found that even though they had not spoken about him or his family or his past, she did know him a little better.