By the time Officer Adams returned to escort the Goliath out of the facility, Marx was positive he had made the right choice. 231 saluted sharply and exited the room, leaving the Coordinator alone with the image of the sleeping girl.

He was also certain that he would not sleep tonight, either. It was bad enough before the incident; now, he knew, he would be all but sleepless until he had recovered what he had lost.

Marx closed his eyes, remembering. Waking up to the air howling through the open door of the transport. The low, electric vibration permeating his thoughts. The girl, sitting up slowly, the same look of confusion and discomfort on both of their faces.

All because of-

Marx found himself staring at the floor. The hum was thick in his mind, fading as he shook his head. Every time he tried to remember.

The telepaths he had tried to contact wouldn’t speak to him. Tower’s history of psychic experimentation, it appeared, had left them with a bad taste. But according to his own research, they would have been little help anyway.

According to his research, the best way to get rid of a psionic block was to wear it down.

Marx watched as the girl shifted in her sleep. He stubbed out his cigarette and turned off the screen, eyes narrow.

The wall went blank.