India didn't remember exactly when she had met the woman. The memory of their conversation was disjointed. Perhaps they had never even met. But the me...ories were there nonetheless. It was this woman who had ordered the implants that had so changed India's personality. It was this dark-eyed woman who had left her at the mercy of the pale doctor at Macau colony. And despite the vagueness of her recollections, India felt connected to this woman. Almost like a sister.The "M" woman spoke of morality. I stuck out my hands in an effortto grab the top of the horse to hold myself back, but the leather waswell polished and slippery. My hands slid inexorably towards her andwith a swift movement those evil cuffs were hooked together and througha large metal ring which seemed to be connected to a rope leading downout of my sight.She was smiling as if satisfied with herself and looking gleefully intomy face she began to pull on something. My hands slid over the otherside of the horse and down. More

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