Irajah's work culminated in several places and people, all around the same time. The last two years had gone into the research and processes. The number of bodies, failed experiments behind her was not insignificant. She had been ruthless in her cause, culling those that had not unfolded the way she had hoped, releasing some into the wild, simply to see what they did and allow her to fine tune her techniques. Desmond had been the first success. Now, she hoped, she had two others. Icarn Amonta.
While Icarn had been a windfall, Elian was more personal. Which made this simply that much more satisfying.
The scanner beeped and she looked up into his face. All the familiar lines. And smiled.
"This says you are fit as a fiddle, Elian," she said warmly. "But tell me, how do you feel?"
She listened carefully to his answer. Not just the words but the tone, his expressions. His memories had been carefully tampered with, removing and replacing with a surgeon's precision. They had already had two instances of rejection, but it had been months now and the imprinting seemed fully cemented. Even Jairus had been unable to find any loose threads left after the work she had done.