Morpheus's hands pressed against her shoulders, holding her against the wall in the front entryway of the Ferry estate. She struggled, but he wouldn't let her go. Simon stood on her other side, his hands finding a path on her skull like a Memory Recoder in the middle of an examination. Was he in the middle of an examination? She wouldn't know - she'd never been to a Memory Recoder before, nor had need of one.
"What are you doing?" Lysandra cried. "Let me go, you bastard!"
"Listen to her," Morpheus said. "Like a child who doesn't want to take her medicine."
"Is that what Recoding is now?" Simon asked, his voice devoid of inflection, making the question sound more like a statement.
"It is. It's replaced psychologists, hasn't it?" Morpheus asked. "And a lot of regular doctors, too."
"I d
