—Niels Bohr I was wide awake and clearheaded. I was in an absolutely anonymous cubic, a generic plasteel box of air, about the size of a small studio. Its only features were doors at opposite ends, generic chairs, and a monitor. I was seated on one of the chairs, facing one of the doors, the monitor on the wall to my right. Seated facing me was Solomon Short. Behind him was another man I did not know, who sat facing the monitor and seemed absorbed in it. My tailbone hurt, quite a bit, and so did the back of my head, but I did not mind much. “Do you accept me as your Advocate, Joel?” Sol asked me. I blinked. “Sure.” “I understand Pat has given you your lines.” I remembered what he must mean, and patted my pocket; the folded note was still there. “Yes.” He nodded, and gestured to the monitor. “Stick to the script. Now pay attention to that.” The screen showed a room larger than this one.
