Don’t try to move yet, he said. It won’t work. But don’t worry, you’ll be able to see everything I do to your friend on the table. And soon enough it will be your turn. You can see yourself, then, in the mirror. He blinked at me, and a light touch of whimsy came into his voice. It’s a wonderful thing about mirrors. Did you know that if someone is standing outside the house looking into a mirror, you can see them from inside the house?

He sounded like an elementary-school teacher explaining a joke to a student he was fond of, but who might be too dumb to get it. And I felt just dumb enough for that to make sense, because I had walked right into this with no thought deeper than, Gee, that’s interesting. My own moon-driven impatience and curiosity had made me careless and he had seen me peeping in. Still, he was gloating, and that was annoying, so I felt compelled to say something, however feeble.

Why yes, I knew that, I said. And did you know that this house has a front door, too? And no peacocks on guard this time.

He blinked. Should I be alarmed? he said.

Well, you never know who might come barging in uninvited.

Dr. Danco moved the left corner of his mouth upward perhaps a quarter of an inch. Well, he said, if your friend on the operating table is a fair sample, I think I may be all right, don’t you? And I had to admit that he had a point. The first-team players had not been impressive; what did he have to fear from the bench? If only I wasn’t still a little dopey from whatever drugs he had used on me, I’m quite sure I would have said something far more clever, but in truth I was still in a little bit of a chemical fog.

I do hope I’m not supposed to believe that help is on the way? he said.

I was wondering the same thing, but it didn’t seem entirely smart to say so. Believe what you like, I said instead, hoping that was ambiguous enough to give him pause, and cursing the slowness of my normally swift mental powers.

All right then, he said. I believe you came here alone. Although I am curious about why.

I wanted to study your technique, I said.

Oh, good, he said. I’ll be happy to show you—firsthand. He flickered his tiny little smile at me again and added, And then feet. He waited for a moment, probably to see if I would laugh at his hilarious pun. I felt very sorry to disappoint him, but perhaps later it might seem funnier, if I got out of this alive.

Danco patted my arm and leaned in just a bit. We’ll have to have your name, you know. No fun without it.