Golam came to in a room that was not his own. The walls were bare. The window was draped as SimSun(TM) tried to blast its ray-gun effect into the space, throwing unusual shadows across the white floor.

The first thing he remembered as he tried to diagnose the world he was coming into was the taste of Cynnie's tears. That salty almost chemical taste was lodged in his throat like bad breath that he couldn't help but burp up like a gaseous eros. Was this romantic?