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page0071.mm
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<p>Page 71.</p>
<p>“He <em>shot</em> you,” I
whispered. “In the <em>heart</em>.”</p>
<p>Lola scowled. She had a hell of a
scowl. I had never seen it before. Her eyebrows rotated almost ninety
degrees. “You think I don’t know that?”</p>
<p>“Then why—”</p>
<p>“Because he’s <em>hurt</em>.
He needs help, that’s why.”</p>
<p>“This...” Down the
corridor, a guard coughed into his hand. I forced myself to lower my
voice. “This was not an
accident.”</p>
<p>Lola’s eyebrows flipped up. “Why
would you say that?”</p>
<p>“Because nothing that happens
here is an accident. Cassandra Cautery said—”</p>
<p>“Your first transfemoral was an
accident,” Lola said. “You got caught in a clamp.”</p>
<p>“Uh,” I said. “That,
well...”
</p>
<p>“Accidents happen <em>all the
time</em>.”</p>
<p>“That’s not the point. The
point is—”</p>
<p>“What’s the point?”
Lola put her hands on her hips. I found it difficult to argue with
her, because of all these emotional cues. I was used to arguing with
scientists, who would explain why you were mentally incompetent with,
at most, a raised eyebrow. “Tell me the point.”</p>
<p>“The point is they’re my
parts.” I poked myself in the chest, attempting to get in on
this performance debating.</p>
<p>Lola went very still. When she spoke,
her voice was low and dangerous. “I hope you didn’t just
say that.”</p>
<p>“I designed them. I built them.
For me.”</p>
<p>“He’s lost both arms!”
Lola yelled. Her voice echoed up the corridor.</p>
<p>“Then...” I swallowed, to
gather the nerve to say it. “Then he can make some new ones.”</p>
<p>Lola stared at me. It was amazing, how
sustained eye contact from Lola Banks could make me feel like the
biggest man on the planet or the smallest, depending on the
configuration of surrounding facial muscles.</p>
<p>“Look,” I said, “Let’s
go back to the suite and talk.”</p>
<p>“I’m surprised at you.”</p>
<p>“There’s more going on here
than you realize. Come on, Lola. You shouldn’t be walking
around anyway. You just had open heart surgery.”</p>
<p>“That was a month ago,” she
said, which surprised me, but I guess it was true. “I’m
fine. <em>That</em> man...” She pointed at Carl’s
door. “Is <em>not</em>.”</p>
<p>“Lola,” I said. “Wait.
Don’t go in there.” But she did.</p>