Page 88 - DeepRestFlipFinal

NICHOLAS BOOTHMAN
Evelyn watched them, her mind clear, despite the
lingering sedative. She was strapped to a chair, her
wrists and ankles secured. Not tight enough to cut off
circulation, but firm enough to prevent movement.
"Dr. Hayes," one of the lab coats, a woman with
sharp, intelligent eyes, began. "We're simply
conducting a neurological assessment. Standard
procedure."
"This isn't standard procedure," Evelyn retorted,
her voice steady. "This is kidnapping. And torture."
The woman smiled. "Such dramatic language.
We're merely trying to understand the unique
properties of your… discovery. And your brain."
She picked up a small, metallic device. A trans-
cranial magnetic stimulator. Evelyn recognized it.
Used for depression, but also for mapping brain
activity, for inducing specific neural states.
"We'll start with a basic mapping," the woman
explained, her voice clinical. "To see how your brain
has adapted. To see where the information is stored."
Evelyn closed her eyes. She wouldn't give them
anything. She wouldn't let them probe her mind to
extract the secrets.
She focused. On her breathing. On the internal
hum she’d learned to recognize. She tried to slip into
the stillness, the protective state.
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