Carmel. It played havoc with the Tsong Zee’s colorful sashes and belts and the men’s long, unbound hair. Parsa, whose cropped, medallioned, rose-gold locks stayed neatly put, helped the three Tsong Zee men affect braids, then meekly allowed a technician to affix the EEG array to her head. The others followed suit, while Rhys received reports from other quarters. “The Admiral is having a conniption,” Danetta informed him over the comlink Yoshi carried. She had remained behind at the Medical Center to monitor their progress and keep an ear tuned to the military situation. “Joseph says if he complains about having his hands tied one more time, he’s going to tape his mouth shut. I can understand how he feels, though. You’re up there on that mountain, and I’m sitting here in a white room surrounded by a flock of murmuring, white-coated lab-dwellers. Why is life so unfair?” Rhys felt a profound appreciation of Danetta’s enduring wry humor.
