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intensity a little?”
    Georgia says, “We have to ease into it,
General. We don’t want to fry their brains.”
    “ I don’t believe that. I think we
can increase the number of enemy fighters and not risk jeopardizing
the conscious filters between them.”
    She was afraid this would happen. How could
they put a military man in charge of this project? All they want
are fast results and to hell with all the time and manpower put
into the project.
    She flips her hand toward Potter. “Do what you
want.” This is it , she thinks. After this, I’m
done .
    Potter scrambles from his chair and takes a
telephone handset off its cradle attached to the wall at the back
of the room. “Potter here. How many enemy combatants are active in
the current scenario?” He listens for a second. “Let’s increase
it…” He pauses again and makes a decision. “Triple them,” he says
and hangs up the phone.
    He plops back down into his chair, oblivious to
the disgusted glare painted on Georgia’s face. “Are you crazy?” she
asks.
    He snickers. “What? It’s not as if he’s going
to get hurt or anything. It’s a simulation for Christ’s
sake.”
    Georgia shakes her head slowly. “Hurting him
physically isn’t the issue here, General.” Her voice rises with
each word. She no longer cares. Potter can go screw himself for all
she’s concerned. “We’ve already established that the program
works—this…” She points angrily at the screen. “…is about
maintaining the delicate conscious balance between two individuals.
Why do you think all the others failed?”
    “ Now, now, Georgia. Let’s calm down.
This is no place—”
    “ This is the perfect place!
You’re about to increase the stress on an already stressed mental
connection. Let me ask you again…why do you think all the others
failed?”
    Potter shakes his head.
    She points to the screen again for emphasis,
“Because they’re not brain dead! And once they realize
someone’s attempting to control them, their instinct to survive
takes precedence over anything else and they fight
back.”
    Several of the other spectators fidget in their
seats. One man steps out of the room, probably to find a Military
Policeman or two—but Georgia is beyond caring. She’s a civilian
employee working under contract for the Department of Defense; she
doesn’t fall under military chain of command and isn’t subject to
military discipline—so to hell with them. If they bring civil
action against her then so be it.
    At the back of the room, the door opens and an
MP steps inside. Potter turns at the sound of the door closing and
he holds up a hand, “We’re okay.” The MP doesn’t take that as a cue
to leave, so instead, he steps to the left and remains at attention
by the door. Potter turns back to Georgia. “I’m still in
disagreement about those men but let’s just say, for argument’s
sake, that you’re right. Isn’t that the whole reason we decided to
use a child? In the hopes that if Rob is indeed still in there,
he’ll recognize the child and be less likely to retaliate against
the mental intrusion?”
    “ In theory, yes. But we can’t know
for sure Rob will recognize the intrusive consciousness as that of
a child.”
    “ My case in point,” Potter sneers.
“It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”
    “ Are you kidding me? If Rob reduces
that young boy’s brain to a useless pile of jelly, you’re telling
me that you can live with that?”
    “ Yes.”
    Georgia slaps him and seeing the angry red
whelp rise on his cheek is only slightly satisfying. Potter’s eyes
turn to the MP and in a matter of seconds, Georgia’s arms are
pinned to her side.
    “ Get her out of here.”
    “ Yes, sir.”
    Georgia doesn’t put up a fight. She’s through
with Potter anyway, but before she exits, she steels a quick look
back at the screen. Rob’s enhanced body, controlled by the young
boy, is deep in combat against several enemy combatants. Somehow,
someway, she