“Mr. Dominic, please. A communication has arrived for you from your handlers at the NSA, and we’re rather curious about it.”

“Whose hands are these? Whose body am I in? Victor? NO! NO!
So, me, my body, I’m…I’m in the Attic. I Knew it! I knew it! And now you want me to help? After doing that?”

“Doctor, sedate him, please.”

“No. Topher. Adelle, please, come on, don’t… Don’t give me the shot, please! Don’t give…Whiskey!”

“Come on. It’s from your best friends and handlers at the NSA.”

“No, it isn’t. We didn’t communicate that way. We have phones.”

“Wait. Alpha? Just like that? Alpha?”

“He used to sign his stuff in art class like that. They thought it was a fish, but it was his name over and over again. The first sign something was different.”