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attached to the chin strap so that it sat directly in front of Nellie’s mouth. Retreating to a control panel to Nellie’s right, she flicked a switch.
    Immediately the helmet released a slow pulse into Nellie’s brain, and the speaker in her left ear began emitting the sound of gentle waves. Almost as quickly, Nellie felt her body lose its tense eager lines, and a floating sensation took over the inside of her head. Gripping the right arm of the Relaxer, she pressed her index finger against the tip of a screw that had come slightly loose. Room Fourteen might look sunny and jovial, with its shelves of books, kids’ toys and relaxation chair, but there was something about it that made her uneasy. Maybe it was the slow pulse going through her brain, maybe it was the sound of those annoyingly calm and peaceful waves. The whole thing just felt wrong. No matter how you tried to disguise it, everything in Detta was one big maze and a cadet was always running. It was best, Nellie figured, never to forget this. Index finger pressed against the head of the screw, she waited.
    “There, there, Nellie,” said Westcott, his voice emerging from the speaker in her right ear. “Are you ready?”
    “Maybe,” she replied, enunciating clearly into the microphone. Each Relaxer session was recorded for study at a later date. A few months ago, she’d pestered Westcott into letting her listen to several minutes of one of her sessions. She hadn’t liked the way she’d sounded — mumbly, kind of spacey. Thinking about it later, she’d decided she had to concentrate more, and soon after that she’d discovered the loose screw on the arm of the Relaxer.
    “And maybe not,” she added, to keep Westcott and Juba on their toes. “I haven’t decided.”
    “Well, you let me know when you’re ready,” said the psychiatrist. “And while you’re thinking about it, I want you to take all the thoughts and worries you brought with you from Advanced, and put them into a small sailboat. Can you see the sailboat in your head?”
    They went through this routine every session. Nellie’s response had become automatic — as soon as the prerecorded waves started up, a bright yellow sailboat appeared in her mind, tied to a dock. She couldn’t seem to stop this from happening, so as soon as the sailboat came into her head she busied herself scurrying along a shoreline she’d created to go along with the dock, collecting large rocks and heaving them at the boat. Today she’d already managed to tear several holes in the hull. The sailboat was tipping dangerously.
    “Yes, I can see it,” Nellie replied.
    “Good,” Westcott said smoothly. “Now I want you to place all your Advanced thoughts into the sailboat, and send the sailboat out into the ocean. It’s a sunny day, and I’ve got a remote control on the boat. When we’re finished the session I’ll bring it back, and then you can take out your Advanced thoughts again. Okay?”
    Inside her head, Nellie heaved another large rock and the sailboat sank with a quiet blubbing sound. “Okay,” she said.
    “I’m going to count to ten,” said Westcott, “and then the sailboat will sail over the horizon and out of sight with all your Advanced thoughts.” Calmly, the psychiatrist counted slowly to ten. “Now, Nellie, where is the sailboat?”
    “Gone,” said Nellie, putting a dreamy note into her voice. Westcott’s voice got positively purry when she did the dreamy bit. Carefully she pressed her finger harder against the screw. “Gone into the clouds over the horizon.”
    “Into the clouds?” purred Westcott. “How lovely. Can you still see it?”
    “No,” said Nellie. “The clouds are too big and bright and fluffy. Like fairytale castles.”
    “Good,” purred Westcott. “Wonderful. Superb. Marvelous. Now Nellie, I want you to answer some simple questions. Nothing important, just to fill up some time so I can keep my paycheck coming in. When I ask each question, let your mind