be made.” She began to jot down some notes on an electronic tablet. “I’m going

to pull up your old records and compare them to what I’m seeing now. This will

allow me to dig further into the progression. Do your joints hurt? We were using

composites before anyone knew what they could really do. Stronger than steel,

more malleable than plastic. But the scan does evidence some breaking down of

the limb structures. But the brain implant is the most fascinating.” “Shut up!”

screamed Rogers.

 

She went on as though she hadn’t heard him. “Do you know that your brain has

woven a nerve circuitry around the implant? And also pierced it.” She paused and

then added excitedly, “Your brain is inside the implant. That may be the source

of—” “Shut up!” She fell silent, but her lips moved as she apparently was

talking to herself. Her eyes shone with the wonderment of all that she was

seeing, while Rogers lay there in utter misery.

 

As the pain began to subside he looked over at her engrossed in the screen.

 

He just wanted to put an end to the madness.

 

To her.

 

And then to himself. “That wasn’t Ballard,” he said.

 

This got her attention. She turned to him. “So it was you who threw him out the

window.” “And I don’t think the other guy is either. So where is he?” “Don’t