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what his mind focused on the most was the ugliness above him. Lamont looked like a horned devil.
    Suddenly, their tones became clearer. “I think it’s time,” the one identified as Krane said. He looked at Arson through oversized, thick lenses. A stitch of tape held one piece of the frame to another, but the cheap plastic wanted to break.
    The skinny apparition had changed positions. Far away. Then close. It’s hard to keep track . Hard to capture everything. Now the blur hovered over Arson’s bare chest as he began to add red lines with a permanent marker. The lines traveled in multiple directions from his naked upper torso down to his boxers.
    â€œGet away from him, Lamont,” Krane ordered. He leaned down and continued pressing the marker’s tip against the soft flesh. A dark color bled short, sporadic lines across Arson’s forehead. “Hold still,” the voice assured. “It will only hurt a little.” The figure turned to his assistants. “He’s waking quickly. We need-need another dose.” Krane finished tracing the lines and covered the tip of the marker, pushing up his glasses so they’d sit more firmly on the long bridge of his nose. One of his assistants stuck Arson in the neck. It stung. “Prepare to initiate Morpheus.”  
    â€œHelp me, plea—” Arson struggled.
    Two other blurs wheeled a large device toward the table: the thing they called Morpheus. The machine’s wide, metallic grip stretched to Arson’s feet, while the remainder of it rested above his head. It was shaped like half of a coin, or a comb without teeth, hollowed out at the top and complete with wiry fingers that jutted out on each end.
    Krane turned a switch and tiny spikes instantly protruded from a center wire and stabbed into the sides of Arson’s temples, twisting until the machine got a verifiable scan. The hovering mechanical beast buzzed and sliced into his mind like a whirlwind, emitting a blinding light that kept Arson’s eyes glued shut.
    â€œIt’s like staring straight into the sun, ain’t it?” Lamont snickered, fingering his tobacco dip with his pinkie and sliding the brown chunk into his gums. He savored the taste.
    â€œCan you keep-k-keep it down?” Krane asked. It was clear the skinny doctor wasn’t comfortable with spectators circling his work.
    â€œYeah, yeah.”
    Krane focused on controlling the movements of Morpheus. It was a meticulous machine.
    â€œWhat…doing…me?” Arson gasped. Light penetrated his closed lids enough to create many wildly colorful splashes that corrupted his true vision.        
    â€œI don’t think Mikey likes it.” A sick cackle disturbed the air. “Looks like you’re putting baby in a corner.”
    Krane was perfectly mute.  
    â€œSure he’s not gonna remember any of this?” Lamont asked, stepping forward. “’Cause I’d be pretty ripped if you were walking around inside my head.”
    Krane waited. “ Lamont, shut your trap, b-be-before I give Hoven an excuse to remove you permanently. Besides, no one’s brave enough for that journey.”
    Lamont mocked him silently, the dip in his teeth squishing back and forth. He folded his lips, producing a trail of mixed saliva that ran down the cleft in his chin. The sticky brown spit dripped onto Arson’s cheek.
    â€œWould someone get this brute away from my work? He’s disrupting the trial.”
    Lamont felt a hand tugging at his jacket. “Take it easy. I’ll leave you geeks with your rusty gadgets. Don’t, uh, hurt yourself, yeah?” Then, looking at the orderly who had him by the forearm, he wiped his chin and spat. “Get your claws off. I know my way out of this nuthouse.”    
    Krane muttered something under his breath, keeping his attention on the slab and the subject struggling to move. He walked over to the