conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is a description for a book titled Inhuman Resources about Canadian, Vancouver, York with the genre: Literature & Fiction, Short Stories & Anthologies?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Canadian the author is from Vancouver, but for the academic year 2007-2008, will be living in New York City and teaching at Hunter College. Jes is an academic, with a concentration in English and Pop Culture Studies, who has had two books published, one on Buffy The Vampire Slayer and one on Farscape.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the first four paragraphs for this book?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Inhuman Resources
  The penthouse belonged to Ordeño, and the tree was growing out of his ceiling. It made me think of the baobabs that could take over an entire world with their roots.
  The lawn of the building was cordoned off, and strips of tape demarcated the borders of the crime scene. On the inside of the tape, people moved with logic and efficiency. Exterior lamps made the air hot. Colored evidence placards stuck out of the grass like candles on a cake.
  A van for on-site forensic testing was parked in the entrance. Two houses down, an OSI tech was checking the integrity of the first perimeter veil. She passed an alternative light source over a patch of dark air, and colors danced within the arc. The veil was working. The street stayed empty.
  It takes work to stay invisible. We had to be at every scene first. We couldn't leave a trace behind. We damaged the environment and tangled atomic forces by creating veils. We messed with the equilibrium of the universe. Our tests created pollution, both chemical and psychic. There was a whole section of the CORE devoted simply to erasing our metaphysical footprint, but they were fighting a losing battle.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is five more paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I tried not to invest too much intensity in the question. But she felt it anyway. She sipped her tea and gave me a look.
  I let the mug warm my hands. How could I explain that I wanted to crawl into her brain and see everything, like a movie being played in black and white?
  But it simply wasn't polite to eavesdrop on other people's memories, no matter how compelling they were. Derrick had told me once that reading minds was almost never worth the trouble that it caused. At best, you got the vague impression of something that you wouldn't have known otherwise, like watching a DVD somewhere in the middle. At worst, you learned something precise and terrible that you'd never be able to forget. That's why the brain was designed to be a closed system.
  She turned her mug slowly, as if feeling the need to turn something more substantial than the wedding ring. "I've told you that. I left because I wanted you to have a normal life. Or as close to normal as possible."
  My mother shook her head. "You're wrong. Meredith and I had worked together in the past. When your name came across her desk as a potential, she contacted me. But I didn't pull any strings to get you admitted to the OSI program. That was the last thing I ever wanted for you."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Reverse the sentences.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: ". That was the last thing I ever wanted for you. But I didn't pull any strings to get you admitted to the OSI program. When your name came across her desk as a potential, she contacted me. Meredith and I had worked together in the past. "You're wrong."
  My mother shook her head. Or as close to normal as possible. I left because I wanted you to have a normal life. "I've told you that.
  She turned her mug slowly, as if feeling the need to turn something more substantial than the wedding ring. That's why the brain was designed to be a closed system. At worst, you learned something precise and terrible that you'd never be able to forget. At best, you got the vague impression of something that you wouldn't have known otherwise, like watching a DVD somewhere in the middle. Derrick had told me once that reading minds was almost never worth the trouble that it caused. How could I explain that I wanted to crawl into her brain and see everything, like a movie being played in black and white?
  But it simply wasn't polite to eavesdrop on other people's memories, no matter how compelling they were.
  I let the mug warm my hands. She sipped her tea and gave me a look. But she felt it anyway.I tried not to invest too much intensity in the question
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the last five paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Becka switched on the overhead fans. There was a powerful rush of air, and what was left of the manticore was sucked into the vents, screaming all the way.
  The fire alarm wouldn't stop. I stared at the black patch on the floor that used to be Sabine. Braxton had left only his head behind, mouth gaping, staring at nothing. The rest was somewhere in the manticore's spectral guts.
  I looked at Mia. She seemed torn between two realities. She wanted to run to me, like I was really her mother. But a part of her held back. I could see the misgiving in her eyes now. She didn't trust me fully anymore.
  And all I could hear were the manticore's last words. About belonging. About power, and what it promised.
  Luiz Ordeño's treaty between the Dark Parliament and the Vampire Nation was ratified by Deonara Valesco, the new Prime Solium. With Lord Nightingale's blessing. Mia started locking the door to her room. To keep me out. And I called up an old ally named Mr. Corvid, who knew where my father was.