Page 106 of Private Exhibit
What the hells is going on?Andy almost yelled the question, but Crawford pulled him aside, clearing the doorway.
Oliver quickly scanned the room, then pressed a button on his phone and brought it up to his ear again. “Go.”
Just outside the room, the lights flickered and audibly buzzed. Andy barely had a chance to react when a man breezed into the room, heading straight for Devon.
A man with long, dark hair.
Andy stared dumbly at the hazy figure as he bent over Devon, his long, slender fingers touching the boy's head.
“Hey!” he finally managed to get out. “What the hells is–”
“Stay back, Doctor Gerard,” the man said without looking at him, his voice low, dark, and full of command. “This is delicate work. I don't want to damage his brain. I'll need it intact if this works.”
“Ifwhatworks?” Andy demanded.
But the man didn't answer.
Andy turned to Oliver. “What is going on?”
“Just trust me,” Oliver hissed. “He can help.”
“Who the fuckishe?”
“I'd focus on your machines, if I were you,” the mage murmured. “I'm good, but even I might not be able to control the spread of my magic.”
Andy immediately looked at the monitors.Oh gods. What if something went wrong? What if the mage somehow fried the machines, and Andy wasn't able to get Devon transferred to new ones in time?
But the monitors kept clearly displaying all of Devon's vital data. The bypass machine kept circulating. The ventilator kept pumping air into Devon's lungs.
Andy felt something shift in the room. It wasn't tangible. It was something on the telepathic plane, but he couldn't pinpoint it.
The mage straightened up but kept his back to them. “I'd say you have about thirty seconds before all the sensory overwhelm floods in. Get to it.”
With that, the mage breezed out of the room, nothing but a blurry streak as he flew right past Andy and vanished from sight.
Andy stared dumbly at the empty space where the man had just been, then whirled around and ran to Devon, Crawford right at his side.
Crawford resumed his position at the head of the bed, and Andy stood beside it.
“What did he do?” Andy demanded.
“The barrier's gone,” Crawford said, his eyes wide. “Can't you feel it?”
Andy paused. He could feel it. Somehow, there was something distinctlyDevonnow present in the room. “What happens now?” he asked.
Crawford rested his hands beside Devon's head. “You're going to come in with me. I'll need you to keep him calm.”
“What? How?”
“Try to touch him. Telepathically, I mean. Imagine yourself diving into his mind. It's the same principle as talking to a ghost, but we'll be actually inside his head instead of just projecting thoughts through the open air. I have to warn you, it's going to feel foreign, and your own mind will probably revolt at first, but push past it.”
Andy panted, staring at Devon. “Will it hurt him?”
“No.” Crawford paused. “Well, maybe.” He held up a hand and rushed to add, “Not in the way you mean. Just being inside him won't cause any damage. But if this works—if we're able to do anything with his nervous system—the contact with that alone could trigger pain signals purely by accident.”
Andy slowly shook his head.
“Gerard? You can do this. And we have to go right now.”
