“I’ve only seen her briefly. They’ve pretty much kept me away from the other villagers.”

Eric shook his head, still stunned by the sight of this man. He was the same old Cliff, a little more tired looking but relaxed, poised, and confident. And yet he was different. Then Eric realized it was his clothes. The buckskin and homespun were gone, and he was dressed in tan slacks and an open-necked shirt. Eric stepped back to look at him, still unable to believe his eyes. “I was sure you were dead, or I would never have left you. I saw you go down.”

“Well, I went down all right. These people have developed a weapon that uses ultrahigh-frequency sound waves. They call it a stun gun—an appropriate name. It focuses sound waves much as a laser beam does light waves, making it highly concentrated and powerful. It’s like getting hit with a giant, invisible fist. On full power it can kill a man, but fortunately they only had it on stun capacity. It knocked me out instantly. When I woke up, I was tied up in the back of a truck.”

Eric bit his lip. “You know about Dad?”

“Yes, and the others too. With nearly a hundred men, our few villagers didn’t stand a chance.”

“But at least you are alive. I can’t believe it. I was so sure that you were dead.”

Cliff motioned to the cot, then pulled up the stool so he could face Eric.

“Have you seen the rest of the family?” Eric asked.

“Yes. They seem fine.”

“Are they? Did Mom tell you about some kind of operation they have forced her and the others to go through?”

Cliffs mouth noticeably sagged. “She didn’t have to.” He bent his head over and gently pulled the hair back. The bright red, inch-long incision was still held together with black stitches. “I took my bandage off this morning.”

“What is it? What happened? Mom could only whisper a word or two when she kissed me goodbye after her visit.”

Eric watched anxiously as Cliff paled slightly, and a brief flicker of pain touched his face.

“I’ve been implanted. I believe that is the correct terminology.”

“Implanted? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I have a microminiaturized computer chip planted at the base of my skull. From it four microelectrodes protrude into the hypothalamus.”

The woman next to her on the bench glanced quickly at the white bandage on the back of Madeline’s head. Then she looked away again quickly, obviously embarrassed. She was silent for a moment, then said, “Are you new?”

Madeline nodded.

“And those must be your children.”

To keep their hair off the bandages, Madeline had pulled it up into ponytails, and the patches of white were clearly visible.

“Yes, those are my girls.”

“Do you have others?”

“A daughter, twenty-one, and a son—” She took a quick breath. “A son, twenty-four.”