Characters/Integra

 
     This is a lion with a woman's coordinates, made from a sleek and glossy 
 polymer, golden and translucent. She is exactly one and eight tenths meters in 
 height, lean and certain in countenance. Her clothing is austere, a single 
 broad sheet of thick white cloth wrapped about to make a suit that covers her 
 from breast to knee. In the datasphere she bears the mark of the Department 
 for Parachronotic Research and Retrieval on her brow and on her right hand. 
 Her name is written in it.
     In detail she is obvious artifice, her body intersected by narrow lines of 
 seams and joints, the fluid articulation of wrist and knee and ankle. Her hair 
 is like gold thread, gathered in a bun at the nape of her neck and held in 
 place by a drawing compass wrought from pale ceramic and platinum. Her claws 
 are bright beads, her teeth soft-edged triangles. In the proper illumination 
 it is clear that her body is hollow.
 
 

Integra

    This is a lion with a woman's coordinates, made from a sleek and glossy 
polymer, golden and translucent. She is exactly one and eight tenths meters in 
height, lean and certain in countenance. Her clothing is austere, a single 
broad sheet of thick white cloth wrapped about to make a suit that covers her 
from breast to knee. In the datasphere she bears the mark of the Department 
for Parachronotic Research and Retrieval on her brow and on her right hand. 
Her name is written in it.
    In detail she is obvious artifice, her body intersected by narrow lines of 
seams and joints, the fluid articulation of wrist and knee and ankle. Her hair 
is like gold thread, gathered in a bun at the nape of her neck and held in 
place by a drawing compass wrought from pale ceramic and platinum. Her claws 
are bright beads, her teeth soft-edged triangles. In the proper illumination 
it is clear that her body is hollow.

Logos

Integra read the Polychronicon wheels ago. But that is only a rumor.