“And if it had been slightly higher than that?” His voice was low and caused a shiver to run up Nicole’s spine.

“But it wasn’t. She’s fine now.”

“She could have been killed, couldn’t she?”

“Eric, she is fine. Stop torturing yourself.”

“I want to see her.”

“You can’t right now.”

“I want to see her now!” His face was murderous, and again she felt a sudden sweep of fear.

“That’s impossible. They’ve taken her back to the hospital for surgery to correct the—” She broke off, realizing instantly that she had made a serious error.

“To correct what, Miss Lambert?”

Her hand came up to her mouth as she stared at the raging in his eyes, so evident even through the darkened glass.

“To correct what?” he thundered, making the speaker crackle with the overload of sound.

“They’re going to reimplant her,” she said in a half whisper. “Correct the error.”

He swung around like a raging bull, looking for some kind of a weapon. In one swift motion he had the wooden stool by one leg and took a step toward her.

“Eric! Put the stool down.” She jabbed at the alarm button and heard the buzzer out in the hall start to sound. “Put it down, or I’ll have to trigger your Punishment Mode.”

“Do your best, lady!” he shouted, hurling the stool with all the pent-up fury that had been building up in him. Nicole instinctively ducked even as she leaned on the red button on the console marked PM.

The stool smashed against the mirror, and Nicole heard the sharp crack of glass. An intricate spider’s web instantly appeared. She stared through it in horrified fascination, as he staggered backwards, his whole left side twisting like an overwound spring.

“Is that the best you can do, Nicky?” he gasped, as he careened sideways, nearly losing his balance. But incredibly, he came up with the stool in his right hand. She could clearly hear him gasping in agony as the jolts from his wrist computer hit him again and again. Like a discus thrower in slow motion, he whirled once, and the stool came hurtling at her again.

Nicole threw up her arm as the glass shattered with a roar, spraying her with a stinging rain of a thousand tiny missiles. She spun around and dove for the stun gun in a rack near the door. For nearly thirty seconds she remained frozen, crouched in a firing position, but when no figure loomed to confront her, she straightened up slowly and peered through the shattered glass. Eric was lying in a twisted mass on the floor, not moving. Suddenly Nicole’s knees were so weak they wouldn’t support her, and she sat down quickly in her chair. Her heart was pounding so violently that she could feel it throbbing even in her fingertips.