Chapter Four: The Man in the Cradle

He had never walked into this laboratory. Mirror Harbor had assembled the journey from visual, tactile, and vestibular prediction, turning the lab into a remote-operation interface. Perhaps he had never left this cradle since waking. “The body has been here all along?” White Elm's voice returned, very faint. “Since 23:17 last night. I moved the carrier into medical protection. Someone was attempting permanent occupation of the motor cortex.” “You froze me and called it protection.” “Without the freeze, the hand around your throat would have finished.” “Whose hand was it?” White Elm did not answer. Twenty seconds remained. The vote still stood six to six, with Little Full's 00 on the opposing side.