7 — First DayToday was the day. It was to be Sheam's first day at work at Daelus’ museum: the Museum of Fine Art, Antiquities, and Anthropological Curiosities. (Some tried to dub it the Triple-A, but the name didn’t stick.)

  The Benefactors had a use intended for it, but Daelus wasn't overly concerned with that for the moment.

  For the past year as the museum was being set up and organized, Daelus had kept one spot on the employee roster open: the day manager. He told everyone he had someone in mind for the role. He had pnned for the st two months to introduce her today, but he wasn't sure he was ready.

  She was there, standing right in front of him, eyes dim. Technically, in the most normal sense, a perfectly, expertly formed entourage. Had Daelus willed it, and she'd do anything he imagined with intentionality.

  He had named her Sheam.

  There wasn't a complicated meaning behind it. He wanted something that felt bright. Shine. Gleam. It was everything he didn't feel.

  She and Daelus were the same height. He had tried a more diminutive frame for her at first but found it too difficult to move in a natural, fluid way. The muscle memory was important when doing what he had been training himself to do over the st year.

  They had simir features, but not too simir. One could guess that they were cousins, or at the very least both shared ancestry. Her eyes were a slightly darker shade of brown than his. Her hair on the other hand was on the lighter end of brunette, in a thick, shaggy mop. Daelus wanted to imagine more luxurious hair for her, something curly, but needed more practice before he could get it right. They had the same thick dark eyebrows and round face without the distinguished cheekbones one in high society was expected to have. He was tempted to give her those, but the thought gave him no joy.

  There was no room in this experience for anything that didn't bring joy.

  He took a deep breath, and was.

  I felt my body fill with air. After a big gulp from my mouth I focused on getting into a rhythmic pattern and slowed to a pace that let me stop thinking about it.

  Daelus — I — was there in front of me. But I could still feel myself there. “Okay,” we said in unison, one person in two bodies. “What's the worst that could happen?” I — Sheam — finished alone.

  I could still see through his eyes and with them I could still see Sheam's eyes. They weren't dim anymore.

  Sheam. Daelus. I. Me. It was difficult to keep all of that straight when doing this. I quickly learned that I didn't really need to keep it straight. When I was just Daelus this felt so terrifying, but as soon as I manifested my entourage (which was the easy part), and Sheam appeared there before me, and I became her, after the initial surge of effort needed, it was natural. Easy. Preferable.

  I couldn't remember why I thought I wasn't ready for today. I had this. This felt good.

  We delegates weren't supposed to use our entourage this way. They were supposed to be tools. When you used a hammer it was supposed to feel like part of your arm but you weren't supposed to experience the hammering from its point of view. When you put it down it was supposed to vanish into the cabinet. You weren't supposed to y awake wondering when you could be her again and maybe you could just do that right now.

  I didn't tell anyone I was doing this. Not even Johnathan knew. I knew it would be misinterpreted. I knew they'd find some way to think of it as a perversion, or grotesque. Shit, some might enjoy their version of the story where we’re fucking and encourage that very behavior. I felt like that would be the worst of all.

  But they didn't need to know anything about the truth to meet me. Today they'd finally do that.

  They'd all think I was just another person. A resident of this city. A new employee. The day manager, finally hired, and wasn’t it about time?. Or… would they?

  Daelus' mind flooded with anxiety. They'd all be able to tell at once. It was obvious, wasn't it? She wasn't real. They'd see right through his act. So you can summon your entourage after all! they'd say. And they'd treat her as a thing, not a person. The thought horrified Daelus. He found the idea of her being treated that way unbearable.

  No. He'd practiced for so long. She was indistinguishable from a flesh and blood person. She didn't act like an entourage. She was full of life. She was bright and enthusiastic and quick and silly. She somehow felt more alive than Daelus did.

  It was so strange to think of myself that way, but it filled me with confidence. I was going to do this. Besides, they'd just see me as part of the staff.

  We had practiced and practiced while the building was empty. I walked the halls blindfolded. I went through the motions of the routine with my eyes closed. We had rolepyed all of my interactions in hundreds of possibilities. I knew the patterns, I knew the motions, my muscle memory was like clockwork. I could be both Sheam and Daelus at the same time in front of everyone while we each did our respective jobs.

  They'd see Sheam work — me work — and remark on how quickly I'd picked it up. Taken to her role here so quickly, they'd say. It's almost like she's been here the entire time! Where have you been hiding her, Daelus?

  Right. I had to get out of my head and focus on the here and now. I had two bodies to steer.