.. but the Allthing," Olaf blurted. Realizing what he had said, he puthis hands to his mouth as if trying to push the words back down his throat."Hang...the Allthing!" Ivar spat on the ground. "Those weak fools shouldnever have let in those damned Roman priests. Now half of them -- half thepeople here in Iceland -- have crosses on the backs of their Thor's hammers.They pray to that dead, pale godling of theirs as much as they do to Odinand the other, _true_ gods. Why should I worry about them. Who’s Ms Müller? I wondered. Then I realised - I’d never heard Katrina’s surname. Or Helen’s until that day. When we were specimens we’d had no names; in the Recovery Compound we’d used only forenames; in the brothel we used our working names.That night I dreamed I was Douglas Hendry. I woke with dawn light piercing the windows of the mobile home, panicking because I needed to be on shift... But Douglas wasn’t a prostitute, wasn’t a slave... I sat up in bed and struggled to focus. Was I. More

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