A few weeks later, Anatu pondered the oddness of enjoying a sore body while she dressed in her combat uniform. There had been something different in the way he'd made love to her last night. Something was happening with her human, and she was very much afraid it was nothing good. The clone she was going to kill, if she ever saw it again, used to have moods, and it never ended well for Anatu.
Today they were going to visit a school so she couldn't wear any of the jeans she liked. They were the best invention that came from humans, in her opinion. She walked into the closet that was big enough for ten cyborgs to stand in comfortably. Every time she walked into this clone-like opulence, she felt a little uncomfortable. In the beginning, she'd had to battle the urge to run from it. Now she only felt a mild discomfort. Today she had to look like a cyborg or what human children thought cyborgs looked like. She'd asked Aurora who'd suggested military-style Tunrian clothing.