"Be still, child, stop making those noises. You know perfectly well nothing is going to hurt."
"But—what will you do with me?"
"That was all explained to you."
"No, no, with me, me!"
"Oh, you mean the castoffs. The usual. I don't know exactly. Somebody takes care of it."
"I want me!" Mary cried. "Not that!" She pointed at the screen.
HER chair was wheeled into a semi-dark room. She was naked now, and the men lifted her to a table. The surface was like glass, black, filmed. A big machine hung above.
Straps. Clamps pulling, stretching limbs apart. The screen with the picture brought in. The men and the woman, more women now. Dr. Hortel in a corner, sitting with his legs crossed, shaking his head.
Mary began to cry above the hum of the mechanical things.