Kailey paced the rooftop, circling the XG at the perimeter of its static defense field. The warning tingle of the field was constant against her left side, and provided just enough of a buzz to stir the gel-suit’s nanos into random discharges, which functioned as a makeshift massage for her shoulder.

Deliberately calling the suit to perform such a task would bring down the wrath of Dr. Carter, who already worried too much when Kailey was on assignment. The training missions had been bad enough when it was simple flight maneuvers. Dr. Carter’s unease increased when mention of combat simulation was brought up, and Kailey could just imagine how furious her doctor was at how the day’s training had turned out. It had to rank slightly below the aftermath of Red Thursday.

** Neuro-processor lag at .355 nms. Current motion halted and locked to upright gyro-stabilization. **

Kailey blinked at the network error message. She hadn’t even realized that she’d stopped walking.

Guenevere, unlock motion control, prep for sleep mode in 3 minutes.

** Sleep Mode in 2:59:57….**

Kailey retreated inside the rooftop trauma center, climbing onto the gurney by the door. She closed her eyes, and sank into sleep even before Guenevere induced the delta-wavepattern.

* * * * *

Kailey sat bolt upright with a strangled gasp. She sucked in several deep breaths, hand at her throat. It was a dream. Only a dream.

Guenevere, sitrep.

** REM cycle interrupted due to adrenal spike and respiratory distress. Brainwave force from delta-1 to beta-active state at 23:33.45.55.**

So that was what motion control thought of dreaming of being choked again.

Still clad in the gel-suit, the sweat along the rest of her body had been quickly absorbed, but her forehead was still beaded, and a drop of trickled down around her right eye. She shivered.

In the dream, she’d felt his wrist snap, felt herself kick him, over and over again, just like she had the Master Sergeant in the dojo on what came to be called Red Thursday.

Tears joined the beads of sweat creeping down her cheeks. She clenched her fists. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

She tried to slow her breathing, tried to ease into the meditative state she’d used so often as part of her therapy. But she kept hearing the hard ‘snap’ of bones, the choking gurgle as the Master Sergeant bit down on the scream, the snarl of the man at the department store, his struggling causing Sensei to tighten her grip on his arm.

It was Sensei, she told herself. Personal contact safeguards tied to her adrenal levels and the fight or flight response. The Wizard had Seinsei keyed to act if she froze, to use as lethal force as necessary to subdue anything perceived as a threat while Panic mode was engaged.

She didn’t want to hurt the man at the store. Not like she had the Master Sergeant.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

“Everything all right, Dorothy?”

Kailey leaned back, the wall cool against the back of her sweat-damp hair.

First session will need to be extended when I get back to the Institute, she thought back to the Wizard, through the cellular link.

“Auntie Em is already coordinating with Psych-eval on that. The neural team want you in Bertha first thing. Full dialysis, total nano replenishment. Then a full scan. Motion control therapy is last priority.”

I’m going to tingle for days.

“I can ask them to pause the magnets along certain spots if you like.”

Now you’re starting to sound like Jordan, she thought.

“Whatever it takes for a smile, Dorothy.”