Kayleigh seemed bored now, her eyes kept drifting to the TV. “Very good,” Mr. Smith said finally, but he was talking to Birch, not her. “She i...,” Birch said, and Emi could hear the pride in his voice. “She’s my perfect slave.” Mr. Smith stood abruptly. He moved slowly round behind her, and Emi could feel his appraising stare as he inspected the back view. She kept her position, although her calf muscles were starting to ache now. He returned to stand in front of her. His right hand. He had comfortably sprawled across her bed, green eyes sparking as heanimatedly debated the accuracy and origin of Anaximander’sphilosophical views, arguing for a very generous interpretation of thefew intact fragments of his writing. She had felt intellectual and physical energy surge within her thisevening for the first time in who knows how long, and had played devil’sadvocate to Cory’s stance until his factual base overcame her knowledgeof the subject. Declaring a truce. More

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