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all I could do was talk to her while the cruel world made it impossible for me to stop it.  I could hear the other people on the line, being changed, holding on to our conversations as if they were their own.  It was at those times I felt my rare ability was a curse.”  -- from the Book of Phillip
    As he let go of her hand and knelt down beside her Phillip said, “I have new hope now.  I want you to always look forward to tomorrow.  Please don’t give up.  You have a child to be born and your child should be a child, not a synth.  I promise to do my best to keep that from happening.”
    He drew on the ground aimlessly and then the line moved forward.  He stood and moved forward and was next to her again.  Then it came to him.  He thought to her, “Do you know where I can get something to draw on or with?”  He listened intensely for her thoughts, but the further down the line she moved, every day, the less she thought like a human.  It was becoming difficult to interpret her thoughts.  “Please, think hard.  This is important.  I won’t get caught.  I haven’t been caught yet.  I have a secret way of getting around.  I can’t use it to get you out of here.  You and your baby would die if you were unplugged at this stage.  The plan will be soon, but you have to get through the next stage.  I’m very sorry.”  Then Phillip went silent and he saw an image in his head.  He stood up, kissed her hand and said, “Thank you!”  He clicked and he was in a room that was clearly some type of office.  He moved quickly to the desk and there, just as he saw in the picture that model KRY-1-CT-A1 had shown him in his head, was a pad of paper and a holder full of pens.  He grabbed a pen and a few of the pieces of paper from the pad.  He turned to the door and put his ear to it.  He didn’t hear anything on the other side.  He listened for thoughts of others, even synth thoughts.  He didn’t hear anything.  He knew he had to be very careful and pay close attention to the sound of thoughts nearby or he would be caught.
    He drew a box on the piece of paper and a note over it.  Then he opened the door slowly and peered outside.  He saw that the hallway went in two directions.  He closed the door and drew that on his paper connected to the box.  Then feeling emboldened opened the door, walked through it and turned right, noting every passageway.  At every door he stopped, looked in, drew relative sized boxes and notes for each one.  He thought to himself that this would take a while, but he had to wait before he could use his plan anyway.
    A few hours later he looked at what he had so far.  He had no idea the job of a cartographer was so tedious.  He thought his first drawing was a jumble and noted all the question marks for the places he had to avoid because there were synths working in those areas or moving through hallways, etc.
    Feeling as if he had pushed his luck enough for one day, he clicked.
    “So I assume you went to see her again?  You were gone a long time.  Longer than usual.”  The voice came from behind him.
    He turned and said, “Actually, get everyone together.  I want to show you some plans.”  He looked at Venetia with her arms folded.  He heard her sigh in frustration as she turned to get the rest of them.  He turned to take a seat at their meeting table, or what served as one.
    “Hey boss, what’s up?”, asked James.
    “I was just about to ask you the same.  What’s everyone working on?”  He watched as the rest of them walked in.
    “Tina is working on your ride.  The way you severed it’s connection to the uplink was a bit rudimentary.  She said it’s going to take her awhile to get it back to full normal functionality.  Jason is working on a fuel source for it.  Strangely, he’s thinking sand.  I’ll let him explain that.  Marla has mostly been cleaning up after all of us and I’ve been going over the latest communications intercepts.  I’m