“I’m just trying to figure out how to function in this chaos.” I heard the woman say, as I awoke. I opened my eyes to see an empty, dimly lit gray room, filled with what looked like hospital beds. I counted seven on the side I was facing. I was about to roll over when I heard footsteps approaching.

“Aren’t we all?” a male voice said, with an accent I didn’t recognize.

“You’re not helping, Tom.” The first voice. It was louder this time. They were getting closer.

“Maybe, but I’m done with everyone complaining about things we’re all dealing with. It’s moronic and unproductive.”

I didn’t move as they neared, pretending to be still asleep. The man, Tom spoke again, “Why hasn’t this one woke yet, the others did hours ago.”

“Why are you asking me? Your guess is as good as mine. Either way, let them sleep, Richards said anyone waking early would cause problems.”

“And what makes him the expert, Christine? Odds are, he knows as much as either of us.”

“Just shut up, Thomas.”

“You think this one will make it?”

“I doubt it. One of them did, this isn’t exactly how this was supposed to go.”

“Have you seen her yet?”

“The survivor? Not yet. You?”

“Yeah. This morning, passed her in the hallway.”

“She’s out of the room already? Thats good. Progress. Did she say anything?”

“No. But she seemed coherent. She probably could. Why’re you talking like one of them?”

“One of what?”

“The scientists.”

“I don’t know, I’ve been listening. They know what they’re doing.”

Tom scoffed at her statement. “Do you actually believe that? Please, the old ones were barely competent, these? I reckon I could do as good a job.”

“Whatever, Tom. Check his vitals.”

“Everything looks normal, should wake up any time.”

“If he does wake.”

“Have a little optimism, Christine.”

“Optimism? How am I supposed to be optimistic with all this going on?”

“Your beloved scientists seem confident enough.”

“Whatever, does this one have a name?”

“Don’t know yet. Not exactly quick to search something in the database in its current state. Especially without a name.”

“What about the girl?”

“We got a name, but not a whole lot of information. French, born before the war, not a whole lot of info about them, their databases were destroyed with Paris.”

“What’s the name?”

“Colette Marchal. That name mean something to you?”

“Marchal?”

“Yeah, you know her?”

“No, but the name sounds familiar.”

“Maybe this one knows something.”

“If he did, it probably doesn’t matter now, probably has no memory, like her.”

“Whatever happened to optimism?”

“My optimism only goes so far, like you said, odds are he won’t make it.”

“Your search, filter for criminal records.”

“Why?”

“Tattoo on his wrist, thief symbol.”

“Doesn’t mean all that much, but I’ll try it.”

I heard clicking on a keypad, and then Tom spoke again.

“No, nothing. You know no thieves are caught. Especially outside of the cities.”

“I know, but there was a chance. How’s the original search coming?”

I heard more clicking, and then Tom spoke again, this time sounding confused, “Yeah, but… nothing. No match for fingerprints, irises, dental, anything.”

“That’s impossible. Everyone has a record.”

“It’s supposed to be… who is this guy?”