* He pushed that thought into the mind of whoever was touching him. The hands paused and then moved away.Papers rustled. A female voice spoke, "Gliobl...stoma multiforme, inoperable...diagnosis terminal within a few weeks." The hands moved back to rolling him to his side.*What the fuck is glioblas-whatever-form? Tell me.*This time the hands continued rolling him on his side. "Brain cancer," she said.Brain cancer! Fuck! And terminal! What could he do?Now that he was on his side he felt a wet. Then the reality of the situation reasserted itself and Iremembered that she imprisoned me in this booth and she was going tosubject me to some type of experiment against my well.She walked up to the booth and said, "Well were just about ready let memake the final adjustment and we will begin." She then walked up totheother booth, went inside and closed the door behind her. She had aremote control in her hand and showed it to me by raising it. She thentouched a large green button on the control. More

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