My mistress calls me her mimic. It’s as good a name as any, and I have had more names than I can clearly remember. Each has left a trace in my genetic structure, and, in a sense, I am all of those names and none. I am, however, whatever name I need to be at a given time, and today I need to be Cillian Truffant. Unfortunately, this name is already owned by another man. Not unfortunate for me, mind you, but unfortunate for him. From my position above the wide arcade in Titan’s Huygens City, I study Truffant as…

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