The Focus Effect

Six

In the morning, two men wheel Bob into the room on a gurney and my heart races to see the droid again. He is restrained like I was when I first got here. Someone is expecting success from me and has taken precautions to make sure he doesn't hurt me when he begins to function again. My radiation levels must have risen again. The men who have brought him are dressed in protective suits. They don't say anything to me and leave quickly, locking the door behind them. I hear Kingshire's voice as he appears on the TV on the wall.

"Good morning, Hannah," he says.

I clasp my hands behind my back and stand a little bit taller. "Good morning, sir." I see other doctors in the room with Kingshire, but not Doctor Sue. I was hoping to see her again but think that will be highly unlikely for a while. "Will Doctor Sue be joining us today?" I venture.

"Doctor Carter has been reassigned. I'll be handling all aspects of your progress personally from now on."

I wonder if the devastation I feel is obvious. "I think that's for the best," I lie.

Kingshire doesn't try to hide his surprise. "Really? How so?" he inquires.

I feel myself wanting to cry but know I can't. "Oh, I don't know," I turn away to look Bob over, at the same time hiding any tears in my eyes. "It seemed like she was trying to be my mom or something. Things were starting to get a lit-tle too weird for my taste."

I busy myself inspecting Bob. I can feel Kingshire's stare on my back. Does he believe me?

"I'm not surprised," I hear him say. For a fraction of a second, I feel relief that he bought my lie. "Doctor Carter has had difficulties after losing her daughter last year. She was about your age."

I need to change the subject fast before I burst into tears. "I hear amnesia is a good cure for that," I huff.

He laughs.

"Should I get started then, sir?"

"Yes. The room you're in is much the same as the Safe Room in the cottage. We can gather information, monitor your vitals, measure radiation levels, etcetera. But I'd like you to tell me what you're seeing and doing. This might give us insight that the instruments cannot. So whenever you're ready, Hannah."

I clear my mind. I will deal with my emotions later, beneath the cover of darkness and my blankets. Building trust with Kingshire will take a lot of deceit on my part. I have never had such a complete grasp of irony. I change my focus and bring the lights forward. I gasp at what I see.

"What?" Kingshire says.

Bob's lights are a mess. There are so many frayed threads of light that their green ends cause the hue around Bob to look turquoise instead of blue. "Mr. Kingshire...I can't fix this," I whisper.

"What do you mean?" He sounds put out.

Since I never told him about the experience I had yesterday with my own frayed thread of light, I'm not sure how to explain it so he can understand. "These lights are different," I try. "They don't make sense to me." I turn to face him. His face is stone and his eyes are cold. I feel icy when he looks at me like this.

He looks away and takes a deep breath. "I just remembered that I have a meeting that requires my presence." This is an obvious lie. My focus is still on the lights and I notice that the gold threads that surround him flicker for a moment. "Hannah, I don't like it when people say can't. It's too pointed, too permanent. Too final," he adds. "Give me something to work with here—because I do know something that will become permanent if you can't do anything."