The orb rose within the framework and, as it did, seemed to pull hundreds of smaller orbs out of the checked pattern. They floated in a schematic pillar for a moment, and then they began to swirl as if caught in a vortex. Everson began to wonder if he was experiencing a pain-induced hallucination. One by one, the smaller orbs locked into place until they formed a shape floating within the glowing grid.

The educated Indiran instantly recognized the double helix configuration of a DNA strand. For what purpose it was being shown to him, he had no idea. The orb, seemingly satisfied that Everson had acknowledged its first presentation, began to spin and rise even higher. As if caught in its draft, the double helix spun as well, its components flying apart from the centrifugal force, the recognizable shape deconstructing into a whirl of spinning orbs. More miniature orbs shot up from the checkerboard pattern on the apron and swooped into the grid in long elliptical spirals.

Everson closed his eyes briefly, the maelstrom before him making his head spin. When he opened them, the storm of orbs once again coalesced into a pattern. The movement abated, and Everson could see two distinct DNA strands slowly revolving within the grid.

If I can’t make sense of one of them, he thought tiredly, two certainly won’t help.

Everson flinched as the orb zipped toward his face, stopping short at an uncomfortably close distance. Behind it, the entire three-dimensional display dropped into the apron and disappeared as if it were never there.

The orb hovered. Everson stared at it, swearing he saw the electronic eye blink as if its patience was being tried. He suddenly felt as if he were ten again, called before one of his many masters to deliver a lesson for which he had not studied.

“I…I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me,” he said.

Everson not only flinched again, he barked a short, startled yelp when the needle once again clicked out from the bottom of the orb. He expected searing pain, probably in one of his eyes, but like Master Abel from his past, the orb only used the needle to persuade him to rise.

It calmly tucked it under his chin and gently applied upward pressure until Everson got the idea. He reached his feet with all the ease and grace of a man three times his age. Once erect, he sighed, reluctantly resigned to his new role as puppet.

Everson was convinced that the orb possessed intelligence when it dipped forward in a nod and then zipped to his fallen sword. He watched in amazement as his blade leapt through the air, obviously pulled aloft by some strong magnetic force. It pinged onto the underside of the silver ball with a metallic ring of metal on metal, and then the orb flew it dutifully back to Everson. He held out a hand to the approaching orb, but it circled behind him and courteously slid the sword back into its sheath. He then felt an encouraging bump on his shoulder.