She tried to shake her head as Dr. Gould’s voice commanded softly, “Hemostat. Sponge.” Madeline caught the sudden flash of bright red on the fingers of his gloves and felt her stomach turn.

“Well,” Dr. Abernathy continued, “that’s your answer. Dr. Gould has already started. And see, you haven’t felt a thing.” He straightened and noticed Madeline staring at Dr. Gould’s hands. “Mrs. Lloyd.”

If she heard him, she gave no response.

“Mrs. Lloyd!” he said, more sharply, wresting her eyes to his. “The operation involves an inch-long incision at the base of the skull, which is only about half an inch deep.”

Dr. Gould shot his colleague a withering glance.

If Dr. Abernathy saw it, he ignored it. “At that point, this machine here—” he touched the gleaming surface, “which is a laser drill—”

“Dr. Abernathy!” Dr. Gould’s voice crackled with anger. “I told Mrs. Lloyd I will explain all of that afterwards.”

Dr. Abernathy turned slowly, his eyes glittering embers of challenge above his mask. “This is her daughter! She has a right to know what we are doing, and she has a right to know it now!”

Evidently not many people challenged Dr. Gould, for his eyes registered shocked surprise, as did the eyes of Miss Brighton. Without waiting for an answer, Dr. Abernathy turned back to Madeline. “Do you know what a laser is?”

“Yes.”

“Well, with an almost microscopic laser beam, four very tiny holes will be drilled in Becky’s skull. Please,” he said gently, as her hand flew to her mouth, “this is not nearly as terrible as it sounds. The laser cauterizes as it goes, eliminating any bleeding and any chance of infection.”

Somewhere far back in Madeline’s numbed mind pain registered as she bit down against the edge of her clenched fist to stop the cry of horror. Oh, dear Lord, make this be a dream. Make it not be real.

“Mama! What’s wrong?” Becky’s eyes were round and anxious.

Dr. Gould’s head jerked up and he glared at Madeline, then at Dr. Abernathy. With a feeling of cold death constricting her heart, Madeline forcibly drew her hand away from her mouth and managed a thin smile. “Nothing, Becky. I just had a little pain, sweetheart. I’m okay.”

She looked up, her eyes like stone. “I’m sorry, Dr. Abernathy. Please go on.”

He turned and took one step toward the tray of instruments in front of the nurse. When he turned back, he held a flat piece of black plastic about one-inch square. From it extended four incredibly thin wires.

“Inside this plastic is a silicon chip, a miniaturized computer, as it were. The chip will be implanted under the skin at the base of the skull. The electrodes will be inserted through the four laser holes and placed very precisely with the help of X rays and the computer into special areas of the brain.”