"I guess there is no time like the present," I stated. "I owe you anapology for lying to you like I did. I was making the assumption thatyou'd be angr...y at me for wearing women's clothing and I was trying tohide it from you." You are forgiven. Actually, I was blaming myself as I haven't been muchof a male role model, anyways. I should have thought about that when yourfather and I got divorced. I didn't replace him with a male role model,and I can't very well do that job myself, now can I?" She. She pushed back the flap of leather that served as adoor and went inside. ?Home,? she thought as she sat down gratefully on thestraw packed mattress that was her bed. Home it was, or at least as near tohome as she could be; 8,000 miles from the University of Michiganwhere she taught anthropology. She pulled off the heavy, grey, woollen turban andshook loose her long blonde hair. She took off the heavy grey coat and thepouch that she wore diagonally across her chest shrugged off her. I walked into the building and immediately felt like I was home.The day was filled with fun; meeting voice actors, buying souvenirs, checking out hot women in skimpy outfits, the usual. That was always one of my favorite parts of conventions: the costumes girls would wear to them. They were low-cut and short most of the time, showing off ample cleavage and long legs, firm young cheeks peeking out from underneath mini-skirts.It was a real boner-inspiring situation. If not only for the pure. Badzinski was my father, please call me Barnim.”“Yes, I am. This is Kiskan and she’ll be your liaison in getting everything set for you. Now I’ll give you the overview. You were struck by a car last night and the injuries were fatal. We offered you a chance at something new and you accepted the offer.”I sat forward. Ready to say something, Turgin cut me off.“Yes, we’re aliens as you know them. But no, we aren’t going to probe you.” He was chuckling as he looked at me. Turgin glanced at Kiskan,.