With a stroke of the scalpel’s blade she traced the line of the scar. If the girl felt any pain, she made no indication. A single bead of blood appeared at the wound, running down the long line of the girl’s neck to disappear into her gown. Sara dabbed the wound with the cloth and angled her head toward the basin.

“Somebody hand me those tweezers. Don’t touch the tines.”

Alicia was the one to do this. Sara eased the ends of the tweezers through the jacketlike opening in the girl’s skin, holding the blood-tinged cloth below it. So intense was Peter’s focus that he could feel—actually feel in the tips of his fingers—the moment when the ends of the tweezers caught hold of the object. With a slow pulling motion, Sara drew it free, a dark shadow emerging, and placed it on the cloth. She held it up for Michael to see.

“Is this what you’re looking for?”

Resting on the bed of cloth was a small, oblong-shaped disk, made of some shiny metal. A fringe of tiny wires, like hairs, beaded at the tips, encircled its edges. Altogether it looked to Peter like some kind of flattened spider.

“That’s a radio?” Alicia said.

Michael was frowning, his brow furrowed. “I’m not sure,” he confessed.

“You’re not sure? How is it you could make the phone ring but you don’t know what this is?”

Michael rubbed the object with a clean rag and held it to the light. “Well, it’s some kind of transmitter. That’s what these wires are probably for.”

“So what’s it doing inside her?” Alicia asked. “Who could have done something like that?”

“Maybe we should ask her what it is,” Michael said.

But when he held the object out to show her, lying on its bed of bloodstained cloth, the girl responded with a look of puzzlement. Its very existence in her neck seemed as mysterious to her as it was to them.

“You think the Army put it in there?” Peter asked.

“It could be,” Michael said. “It was broadcasting on a military frequency.”

“But you can’t tell by looking at it.”

“Peter, I don’t even know what it’s transmitting. It could be reciting the alphabet for all I know.”

Alicia frowned. “Why would it be reciting the alphabet?”

Michael let this pass without comment. He looked at Peter again. “That’s all I can tell you. If you want to know more, I’ll have to open it.”

“Then open it,” said Peter.

Chapter Thirty-One

THIRTY-ONE

Sanjay Patal had left the Infirmary intending to find Old Chou. There were things that needed to be decided, things to be discussed. Sam and Milo, for starters—that was a wrinkle Sanjay hadn’t planned on—and what to do about Caleb, and the girl.

The girl. Something about her eyes.