"I'm fine," Sam lied automatically. Most folks gave away their true emotional state by the natural modulations of their voices; fear could make the voice smaller, quieter, or anger might cause a growling effect or more forceful annunciation. This was not always true of Samantha Cole. What gave away her lie was the flatness of her tone. It was devoid of emotional effectors or influence. As she picked her way through the aging ruins of some of the older, abandoned buildings, she was inwardly curious about that tendency in her.

[i]Samantha Cole displays a recurring reliance on emotional detachment and depersonalization disorder.[/i] Her file had said. [i]The recurrence of such events is not wholly unexpected, and may be intentional in some cases.[/i] If it were true, this certainly was one case in which Sam wished she could choose to detach.

This area had clearly been used as a dump site after its shutdown by the city. Discarded electronics littered the streets, haphazardly thrown toward dumpsters which had not had pick-up service for what looked like months. The openings spilled over with refuse, and the cornucopia of unwanted items produced an unpredictable range of odors; some of the trash had been decomposing for so long that it no longer produced a smell. Sam zeroed in on a small pile which looked like it might contain mostly abandoned electronics and set to work sorting them into small piles.

"Watch your step," Sam muttered absently. "You don't want to fall here."