“It would be more logical,” he continued, half musing, “if the Creator had made people look and sound to match up with what they are really like inside. That way people would at least have some defense.”

Nicole’s smile froze in place, then slowly died as his words scalded their way into her consciousness. Her hands clenched tightly; then she reached up and clicked off the switch, cutting off the temptation to scream back at this infuriating presence through the glass. With great effort she fought to keep her breathing even, not daring for a moment to look at the Major. When she finally did, he was staring at Eric.

“Oh, don’t sign off yet,” the voice called through the speaker with bitter mockery. “I thought you were going to help me.”

Nicole turned to the Major and forced a strained smile. “I don’t think he likes us very much.”

“He’s a very angry young man,” the Major agreed. He reached out and patted her arm. “But you handled yourself superbly, Nicole. Just superbly.”

“I don’t know. I’ve never had one so bitter, so utterly caustic before. What if we can’t turn him?”

The Major reached up and stroked his mustache absently. When he dropped his hand, his expression brightened. “Then we’ll implant him and send him to Serenity to farm. No one is that indispensable. But we haven’t lost yet.”

“Sir, I don’t know if we ought to continue any more today, considering his present mood.”

“Most definitely not. But bring his mother in as you had scheduled tomorrow morning. And remind Mrs. Lloyd not to say anything about being implanted, or we’ll terminate her visit. Travis has already warned her to wear a blouse with a high neck to cover the bandage. If she doesn’t say anything, Eric will never notice anything.”

Nicole nodded. “She’s set to come at eight o’clock. I’ll brief her before she goes in.”

“Good. Limit the visit to ten minutes. Then we’ll play our next card at nine o’clock. Travis and I will meet you here a little before then. Okay?”

“Of course.”

He stood up and smoothed his suit. “All right, we’ll see you then.”

CHAPTER 8

“Oh, Mama!”

Becky’s eyes were wide as she stopped suddenly at the sight of the playground. Lori, always a pragmatist, didn’t bother with exclamations of awe. With a shrill “Yippee!” she dropped her mother’s hand and shot across the grass, heading for the slippery slide that was spewing children out of its mouth even as she ran.

Becky tugged on Madeline’s hand. “Come on, Mother! Oh, this is neat!”

Madeline smiled, the first time in four days, and released her youngest daughter. “Go. Don’t wait for me.”