Soft, smooth, burning hot glass. He slid his fingertips over her skin, the girl's eyes never leaving his. There was no friction. Fire burned his nerve..., yet it was not pain. Neither was it pleasure. After a moment, he pulled his hand back."What are you, Ve? Who are you?" Ve," she said. He smiled. Her voice was low, yet female. There was a slight echo to it, odd, otherworldly. Jeff's fingers flexed. They were undamaged from their adventure."Yes. Who am I?'"Mine."His smile faded. That ... did not. "What's your name?" he asked."Whatever you want it to be," she said as she squirmed around. "We're all just known by our numbers here anyway. I'm number two hundred and fifty-six. The other woman you were talking to, in the cell next to me, is number two hundred and fifty-seven. None of us know each other's real names." Don't give me that," said the man. "I told you, no one else can hear us."She looked away from him, her voice barely more than a whisper."Jane." Good," said the man. "Why are you. More

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