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"
He
’
s
going
into
virtual
,
"
said
Kawahara
grimly
.
"
Along
with
his
Harlanite
fishwife
friend
.
But
before
we
do
that
,
we
have
to
perform
a
little
surgery
.
He
’
s
wearing
a
wire
.
"
I
tried
to
move
my
right
hand
.
The
last
joint
of
the
middle
finger
twitched
,
barely
.
"
You
sure
he
isn
’
t
transmitting
?
"
"
Yeah
,
he
told
me
.
Anyway
,
we
would
have
nailed
the
transmission
,
soon
as
it
started
.
Have
you
got
a
knife
?
"
A
bone
-
deep
tremor
that
felt
suspiciously
like
panic
ran
through
me
.
Desperately
,
I
reached
down
into
the
paralysis
for
some
sign
of
impending
recovery
.
The
Khumalo
nervous
system
was
still
reeling
.
I
could
feel
my
eyes
drying
out
from
the
lack
of
a
blink
reflex
.
Through
smearing
vision
,
I
watched
Kawahara
coming
back
from
the
desk
,
hand
held
out
expectantly
to
Trepp
.
"
I
don
’
t
have
a
knife
.
"
I
couldn
’
t
be
certain
with
the
wow
and
flutter
of
my
hearing
,
but
Trepp
’
s
voice
sounded
rebellious
.
"
No
problem
.
"
Kawahara
took
more
long
strides
and
disappeared
from
view
,
voice
fading
.
"
I
’
ve
got
something
back
here
that
’
ll
do
just
as
well
.
You
’
d
better
whistle
up
some
muscle
to
drag
this
piece
of
shit
up
to
one
of
the
decanting
salons
.
I
think
seven
and
nine
are
prepped
.
Use
the
jack
on
the
desk
.
"
Trepp
hesitated
.
I
felt
something
drop
,
like
a
tiny
piece
of
ice
thawing
from
the
frozen
block
of
my
central
nervous
system
.
My
eyelids
scraped
slowly
down
over
my
eyes
,
once
and
up
again
.
The
cleansing
contact
brought
tears
.
Trepp
saw
it
and
stiffened
.
She
made
no
move
towards
the
desk
.
The
fingers
of
my
right
hand
twitched
and
curled
.
I
felt
the
beginnings
of
tension
in
the
muscles
of
my
stomach
.
My
eyes
moved
.
