She steps to within a few feet of me. “The Power—do you have it? How about identity? Orientation? Do they know—the men, that is—do they accept it?”
I hesitate, questioning my own motives. At last I say, “No, they do not—know, that is. I came to them before puberty. As for acceptance, they accept that I am a man with androgen insensitivity syndrome; a man who’s face resembles a woman’s. That is all. As for having the Power … my eyes have begun to change, at night, but clearing as the day goes on—if that’s what you mean. Now … please. Details.”
She looks at me as though having achieved a minor victory. “That’s how you found me, by accessing the hive mind, though you wouldn’t have been aware of it. So, you’ve stayed among them and killed for them in order to survive, but now all that’s changing. Isn’t it?”
I don’t say anything, only continue to stare at her.
“And it is changing—make no mistake. That’s how M24 progresses. Your eyes will remain white longer with each passing day—until the transformation is at last complete.” She scans my face as though attempting to read my thoughts. “Tell me, Witch Doctor. What will you do when that day arrives?”
