"We could have gotten it a hundred different ways," said Soma, staring heatedly at her desk. "Any kind of medicine they said we had to take. Or they could've given it to us between Nightshift and Dayshift. Someone has to move us back to our beds, right? It would have been easy to plant it in us then. Nobody remembers how the night ends anyway."

And now that it was happening, there wasn't much point in wondering why. "A friend of mine has a steady hand," she said. "I'm going to have a look around the operating room and...get ready, I guess. I don't think we'll have much of a choice in the end."