Every muscle in my body went rigid. Not from fear. From recognition.
I didn't recognize the voice. Didn't recognize the posture or the hair or the lab coat. But something deeper than memory fired in my brain. Something encoded in the cells of the body I inhabited, in the genetic material I'd inherited from a man I'd never met.
"Sit down, Satori."
"I'd rather stand."
"Your father said the same thing. Always pacing. Always moving. Couldn't sit still in a meeting to save his life." The figure finally turned.
Old. Seventy at least. Face like crumpled paper, all lines and shadows. Eyes that burned with an intelligence that made my skin crawl. Not hostile. Worse. Curious. The eyes of a man who looked at people and saw equations.
