The disconnect apparatus was a chair with no visible restraints. Observation control held my muscles whenever I moved beyond the permitted range.
Bram checked the contact pads along my spine. His hands were warm. Restoration heat always lived in his skin, even when he was not using the function.
“Your pulse is too fast,” he said.
“Will that stop the test?”
“No.”
“Then it isn’t useful information.”
His mouth tightened. “I can request sedation.”
“I want to remember it.”
“Mara, pain does not improve evidence quality.”
“It improves mine.”
Across the room, Rowan stood inside a marked square with a route puzzle projected around him.
Tess sat before a table of objects she had studied that morning. Bram’s station contained a fractured length of support alloy.
The test would pause my re
