it hissed its contents into my bloodstream. Seconds passed. “Well,” I said, slightly relieved, “I’m not sure what—” Then I screamed. After an hour spent alternately laughing, weeping, screaming, and mumbling “Whoa … cool!” I went to Qeturah to complain. She refused to be swayed. “Psionic ability results from a combination of nature and nurture. It can’t be measured using genetic data alone, and it’s an intrinsic part of what it means to be Sadiri. We need this information.” “Yes, but why me?”
