Implantation
Doctor Skentong did not look like the ambassador from an alien race. He looked more like an experienced life insurance salesman, fiftyish, mature but not venerable, well-organized without being formidable.
"Let me get this straight," said Cambuck. "You're here looking for money."
"For a contribution," said Doctor Skentong. "Voluntary, of course."
"For a ... a recovered memories project?"
"A revival project," said Doctor Skentong. "You and the others must be awakened. You must learn who you are. Not mere humans, but the Implanted, the bearers of the Higher Identities."
"Uh huh," said Cambuck, sceptically. "By the way, how did you find me? I mean, if I'm one of the Implanted, as you call them. Are we all listed somewhere in the Yellow Pages? Or what?"
"I'm not at liberty to disclose my methods," said Doctor Skentong, smiling slightly. "Disclosure might place the other Higher Identities at risk."
"Well, Doctor Skentong," said Cambuck, getting to his feet. "It's been nice meeting you and all. I don't expect to have the pleasure again."