Sophie pulled away from Overton’s gaze. She paced over to Emanuel, who stood with his back against the doorframe.

“I guess now is as good a time to tell them as any,” she said.

Emanuel nodded and stepped forward. “Secundo Casu is NTC’s prototype ship that was to carry passengers and a crew to Mars to begin colonization. We had been hired as the crew to manage the Biosphere on Mars, hence our mission here.”

He paused, seeming to weigh his words. He glanced at Sophie and continued, “Our team was not privy to NTC’s time line, nor were we directly involved in the ship’s design or construction. What I am about to say is only an assumption.”

“Go on, Doctor,” Overton said.

Emanuel shot Sophie another nervous glance. “Sophie has been having dreams. Lots of them. Very realistic ones.”

“What kind of dreams?” Bouma asked.

“Paranormal dreams,” Emanuel replied. He raked his hands through his messy hair. “She dreamed about the Organics before they invaded. And she was able to describe what the drones looked like long before we actually made contact.”

“So what? Luke said thousands of scientists worldwide knew. Maybe your girlfriend was one of ’em.” Overton said.

Sophie stepped forward, her face bright red. “I didn’t know!”

“With all due respect, Doctor, why should I believe you of all people didn’t know about the invasion?” Overton asked.

“If I were you, I would be asking the same question, but all I can tell you is that it was as much of a shock to me as it was to you.”

Overton growled. “This is bullshit. You’re telling me she dreamed these things up before they invaded? I thought you people were supposed to be scientists!”

The console next to the hub of monitors glowed to life and Alexia’s image emerged. “I am capable of answering that question, Sergeant Overton,” she said without hesitation.

“Be my guest.”

Sophie’s ears perked up and she grasped Emanuel’s hand. Something told her she wouldn’t like what came next; Alexia was far too eager to explain.

“Two months ago you were all required to go through several rounds of physicals and procedures that tested your ability to survive for an extended trip in space. You may remember a specific test, one in which you were given a sedative and put into an MRI machine.”

Sophie gripped Emanuel’s hand tighter. It was fuzzy, but Sophie could remember the white room and the amber glow of the MRI before she had fallen asleep.

“During this process you were all implanted with a microchip at the base of your spinal cord. It was designed to automatically track brain activity in order to mitigate any mental anguish and high stress accompanying space flight.”

“This was done without our consent?” Emanuel shouted.

Overton frowned at him. “Does that surprise you? This is NTC we’re talking about.”