Selma doesn’t think Hartsfield is rebooting jack shit, he’s just off in gorkland, but like all the nurses who work in the Bucket, she’s a bit afraid of Babineau, and knows he has a habit of showing up at any time, even in the small hours of the morning, and right now it’s just gone eight PM.

At some point since she last checked him, Hartsfield has managed to get up and take the three steps to his bedside table where his game gadget is kept. He doesn’t have the manual dexterity needed to play any of the pre-loaded games, but he can turn it on. He enjoys holding it in his lap and looking at the demo screens. Sometimes he’ll do it for an hour or more, bent over like a man studying for an important exam. His favorite is the Fishin’ Hole demo, and he’s looking at it now. A little tune that she remembers from her childhood is playing: By the sea, by the sea, by the beautiful sea . . .

She approaches, thinks of saying You really like that one, don’t you, but remembers Do not ignore this directive, underlined, and looks down at the small five inches-by-three screen instead. She gets why he likes it; there’s something beautiful and fascinating in the way the exotic fish appear, pause, and then zip away with a single flip of their tails. Some are red . . . some are blue . . . some are yellow . . . oh, and there’s a pretty pink one—

“Stop looking.”

Brady’s voice grates like the hinges on a seldom-opened door, and while there is an appreciable space between the words, they are perfectly clear. Nothing at all like his usual mushy mumble. Selma jumps as if he goosed her instead of just speaking to her. On the Zappit screen there’s a momentary flash of blue light that obliterates the fish, but then they’re back. Selma glances down at the watch pinned upside-down to her smock and sees it’s now eight twenty. Jesus, has she really been standing here for almost twenty minutes?

“Go.”

Brady is still looking down at the screen where the fish swim back and forth, back and forth. Selma drags her eyes away, but it’s an effort.

“Come back later.” Pause. “When I’m done.” Pause. “Looking.”

Selma does as she’s told, and once she’s back in the hall, she feels like herself again. He spoke to her, big whoop. And if he enjoys watching the Fishin’ Hole demo the way some guys enjoy watching girls in bikinis play volleyball? Again, big whoop. The real question is why they let kids have those consoles. They can’t be good for their immature brains, can they? On the other hand, kids play computer games all the time, so maybe they’re immune. In the meantime, she has plenty to do. Let Hartsfield sit in his chair and look at his gizmo.

After all, he’s not hurting anybody.

16

Felix Babineau bends stiffly forward from the waist, like an android in an old sci-fi movie. He reaches into his briefcase and brings out a flat pink gadget that looks like an e-reader. The screen is gray and blank.