“I don’t usually work this part of the hospital. But sometimes I have to substitute, so I have access. We’re not supposed to say anything about this, but if it exposes Brandt, I’m all for it. He’s a jerk.”

She stopped at a patient room. She opened the door with another retinal scan and stepped inside. Ben followed her.

The room was painted white. In the middle of the room was a metal table with rounded edges and a simple chair. Beyond the table was a cot with a thin mattress, a sheet, and a green blanket. On the cot sat a man who looked to be in his nineties. It was Ray Caldwell.

Ray looked up from the bed in his isolation-unit room. Someone was opening the door. Three times daily a staff person came in to deliver food and check on him; this wasn’t one of those times. His room had no clock, but from the internal clock of his silicon brain, he knew the exact timing of the staff’s normal rounds. Someone entering at 1:47 p.m. meant something else was afoot. He sat up.

Theodore Brandt entered, followed by an orderly and a man Ray hadn’t seen since he had been committed: Bryson Nichols. Brandt stopped just inside the door. “Ray, you have a visitor.”

“Bryson. To what do I owe this visit?”

“We’ll leave you two to talk,” said Brandt. He and the orderly left the room.

Nichols sat in the chair. “Ray, Ray. If only you’d see things clearly, you’d be out of here—never would have been placed here, in fact. We can still proceed as if none of this has happened. I have a perfectly believable excuse for the mix-up about your death just waiting in the wings. You can rejoin the project immediately. I haven’t even touched your office.”

“You want me to see things your way? I used to, Bryson. I was mistaken.” He leaned forward. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“You know perfectly well why I’m here, Ray.” His visage revealed neither anger nor anxiety. “You had a visit from an FBI agent.”

“You have eyes in the walls, Bryson. Or a hospital director in your pocket.”

Nichols nonchalantly folded his hands behind his head. “So what did you and the agent discuss? Your release? Abigail? I hope you aren’t planning anything foolish, old friend.”

“My only concern at this point is my granddaughter, that she gets back to her people safely.”

“She’s become obsessed with finding you, Ray.”

Ray frowned. “Thanks only to your clumsy attempt to make me disappear. I would have thought that with your new brain, you’d have handled that more intelligently. Perhaps you received a defective model.”

Nichols stared at him.