The old woman came down to him. She held her shoulders and shuddered. She leaned close.

“Do you remember me? I’m Emma, Mark.”

Emma? Of course he remembered her. He looked upon the old face with such a feeling of sadness, though, that it forced his eyes away.

“I know, Mark,” she said. “You’ve been through a hell of a lot. But the past can be healed.”

He had no idea how to respond.

One of the soldiers said, “Man, look at the size of it!”

“Quiet please,” Emma said. “Remember that it is not only stronger than you are, it is smarter than you are and a whole lot more sensitive, I should think.”

The others pulled off their helmets, and Mark saw a number of young adults and some more mature individuals. Professional faces, intent on their work. Not soldiers, not really.

He remained wary, but he was not detecting any negative moves here. He concluded that their mission did not include his destruction, therefore his defense of himself would be directed toward self-preservation. This meant that he should escape so that he could regain control of his fate.

He watched them, evaluating, waiting for an opening, calculating his odds.

Yet, he couldn’t get out of this net, no matter how much room he had given himself. Nevertheless, it was difficult to believe that these soft and vulnerable people would succeed in confining him for long.

He sucked breath, evaluating not the strength of the net—he already knew that it was too strong to tear apart—but its degree of give.

Overhead, the pulsations grew louder, then the chopper was dropping to low hover.

He pulled his legs together, drew in his elbows, lowered his head—and saw that Dr. Emma was removing something from a small leather case, and he knew what it was, and now he kicked, he tore at the netting, he gnawed it, he fought with everything in him that could fight, but he did not break out, he could not, and she brought the disk closer and closer to his head.

“Please,” he said. His throat was so dry he could barely speak.

“It won’t hurt you, Mark.”

“No, please, you don’t understand. It will. It will hurt me.”

“You don’t understand what it is.”

He said, “No, you don’t understand what it is. It will destroy me.”

“You’ve been in a combat program all of your adult life. We want you in another program now.”

She began to move the disk toward his head. He was desperate now. As incredible as it seemed, he was not going to escape.

He shook the net with all his might. “You do not understand!”

She smiled faintly. “Why is that, Mark?”

“That thing kills my free will, and if that happens, then I can’t carry out my mission, I can’t help you!”