Not Becky’s skull—the skull. Not Becky’s brain—the brain. Even kind Dr. Abernathy had to depersonalize her to talk about it. It wasn’t a freckle-faced six-year-old lying face down on the table, it was a mannequin used in a physiology class, a paragraph from an anatomy book.

When he saw her eyes, he stopped and took a deep breath. “It sounds terrible, but the brain itself has no sensory nerves. The insertion of the electrodes causes no pain.”

“But why?” she whispered.

He let his breath out in one long, drawn-out sound. “I am afraid that is the one question Dr. Gould will have to answer.”

“Are you quite through, doctor?” Dr. Gould asked icily.

“Yes, Dr. Gould, I am.”

“Then, with your permission, may we proceed?”

Dr. Abernathy nodded. He turned and inserted the computer chip into a special slot on the underside of the machine and began to lower it until the electrodes nearly touched Becky’s neck.

“Mama!” Becky’s lip trembled, and clearly she was on the verge of tears.

“It’s all right, darling,” Madeline said, reaching out for her hand as Dr. Gould shot her a warning glance. “Hold real still. This won’t hurt.”

“Then why are you crying, Mama?”

Madeline blinked rapidly and sniffed back the tears. “I—I’m just so proud of you, how brave you are. Just hold real still, and be my brave girl.”

CHAPTER 7

Nicole Lambert stood up quickly as the Major entered the narrow, darkened observation room, but he waved her back into her chair. “Sit down, Nicole, please.” He stepped forward and peered through the glass. “How is our boy today?”

She smiled. “Bored stiff and increasingly restless.”

“Good. Do you think he’s ready?”

“Definitely. These two days have driven him up the wall. He should be ready for just about anything.”

“Good. What’s your evaluation? Can we turn him?”

Nicole pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Well, it’s hard to say without any direct interaction, but he’s full of hate and frustration. He spotted the speaker and knows what it is. I also think he knows what the mirror is. He demands to know about his family and the village. He hasn’t said much the last while because we never answer him.”

He sat down next to Nicole. “Okay,” he said, with evident pleasure at what was about to take place. “Let’s give him a few pleasant surprises, see if we can’t lower the hate level a little.”

“Yes, sir.” Nicole took a deep breath, flicked a switch, then turned to watch the figure stretched out on the cot. “Eric Lloyd,” she said softly into the microphone.

He shot off the cot and looked quickly around the room, then at the speaker in the ceiling.

“Mr. Lloyd.”

“Yes. I hear you. Who are you?”

“My name is Nicole Lambert.”

“Are you behind the mirror?” He was staring almost directly at her.

“Yes.”