“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Just placing waterproof strips around the plate to protect your hair.”
“The plate’s tiny. It feels like you’re covering my whole head.”
“The wider the protective barrier, the safer it is.”
“Is this going to hurt her?” Michael asked.
“It shouldn’t,” Redmond said. “There’s no cutting involved.”
I wished he were cutting and removing my chip. But this was the next best thing. I heard the sound of a spray and felt my scalp go icy.
“This forms a final protective bond over your scalp so the solvent I’m about to use won’t burn you.”
“What’s the solvent for?” Michael asked.
I imagined Michael’s expression as he watched Redmond’s procedure, picturing him observing it with the fascination of a science experiment.
“I better not see a sketch of this, Michael,” I said.
He touched my arm. “Hey, where’s my drawing pad?”
“The adhesive used to attach this tiny metal plate to the back of her skull has to be dissolved in order to break down the compound. It was strong to begin with—which is why I didn’t want to remove it”—he said this last part louder for my benefit—“so it needs an acidic solvent.”
“Just do it,” I said.
“All right now, don’t move.”
I could hear the solvent foaming, bubbling, near my ears. A pungent smell filled my nose.
“Whoa,” Michael said. I imagined he was waving his hand over his face.
“Don’t get too close,” Redmond said to Michael. “These are just tweezers so I can get a grip on it and pry it off.”
Then I felt Redmond tug on the plate.
“I have the left side loose … just need the right.”
Redmond kept working, and this time I felt the plate release.
“There. It’s off,” he said. “Brilliant. Just let me clean up the area.”
It was just my imagination of course, but I felt lighter. Michael patted my arm.
“Good job,” he said.
As Redmond turned away to get the sterile solution, a high-pitched siren screamed in the hallway.
“What’s that?” I shouted to Redmond over the noise.
“Security alarm. Stay here.”
He rushed out of the room and closed the door.
I sat up.
“I don’t think you should move, Cal,” Michael said, looking nervous.
My throat felt scratchy, and another smell mingled with the medicinal scent in the room. I coughed. Michael and I exchanged worried glances. Then he coughed.
I looked up and saw a white smoky mist streaming in through the vent like dragon’s breath.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I scrambled off the operating table and grabbed a towel. I wet it quickly with cold water and handed it to Michael. “Put it over your mouth.”
I wet another one for myself. The towel blocked the smoke but didn’t make it any easier to breathe.
Outside, in the hall, smoke poured in from every vent, and the bitter odor overwhelmed us. Michael stayed close to me.
“Redmond?” I shouted, pulling the towel away from my mouth for a second. I heard nothing but the pulsating alarm ringing in my ears.
The hazy air stung my eyes. I was barely able to see more than a couple of feet. Movement was only possible by feeling my way along the hallway with my free hand.
“Redmond!” Michael shouted over the alarm. “Hyden!”
I looked back over my shoulder, but the smoke was so thick now I couldn’t even see Michael following me. That, and the blasting alarm, were deadening my senses. Then someone gripped my arm. Hard.
It wasn’t anyone I knew.
It was a beefy Ender wearing a gas mask that made him look like an overfed space alien. He had a ZipTaser in one hand and a slim, lightweight gun that Enders favored in his belt.
I brought my leg around the back of his and tried to push him off center, but it didn’t faze him. Michael tried to help, but the Ender slapped him with the butt of the ZipTaser and he fell. I dropped the towel and used both hands to fight off the Ender, but he was strong and soon had my wrists in his grip.
And now that the towel was gone, the bitter gas was making my head swim.
The Ender aimed the ZipTaser at me. I pulled to the side just as the Taser shot out—and the dart of electrodes burned the wall.
He yanked me hard. I was inches from his masked face, weak from the gas. Suddenly, his eyes widened in surprise, and he dropped to the floor. Ernie stood behind him, gun in hand, gas mask on his face. The alarm must have covered the sound of Ernie’s gun. He ripped off the Ender’s mask and gave it to me. I only hesitated a second. Breathing trumped squeamishness.