Adam has returned.  In two months, he has become intelligent, articulate, but still impulsive and demanding.  In other words, an adolescent.

My proof?  He wants a woman.  Built like him.  Unfortunately, we are far from Sweden, where they seem to be built on an entirely different scale.  So, by “built,” The Lad actually expects me to build a woman!  Trust me, Adam, if I had that power, it would have saved me centuries of misery, but my part in building you consisted of me lying on a table and having my soul ripped from me.  In other words, I was a bit preoccupied to study the finer points of the operation.  Besides, I am doing enough to teach myself how to drive an automobile and not instinctively flee an empty room when someone turns on a radio.  I’m an 18th century man, which means that I’m vaguely unqualified for the job.  Adam, if you would care for me to draft a (now) vintage frigate for you, I would be more than capable.  This is a tad more complex.



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