10:40 A.M. local time in Beth's hometown, Beth was walking into an examination room while carrying a chart belonging to a fifty-two year old woman name Juanita Harris. When Beth walked in she recognized Juanita as being her first grade teacher. At that time; however, her name was Juanita Randall.
Beth stopped walking and gave Juanita an uncomfortable stare.
Juanita saw the stare she was getting and asked, "Doctor, is there anything wrong?"
From Juanita's confused reaction, Beth knew that Juanita didn't recognize her. She then tried to play it off and as she stepped up to Juanita she said, "That's what I'm here to find out, Mrs. Harris. It says here that you're having difficulty breathing."
Juanita put her hand with her fingers spread out on her chest and said, "Yes, doctor. I'm coughing a lot and wheezing as I breathe."
Beth noticed the discoloration of Juanita's fingernails that would indicate that Juanita was a smoker. As Beth was preparing her stethoscope she asked, "How much do you smoke a day?"
"I quit smoking a long time ago," said Juanita.
"Mrs. Randall, —" Juanita looked at Beth in a shocked manner as Beth continued to say, "—unlike you I know when I'm being lied to."
"I haven't been called Mrs. Randall for close to ten years," said Juanita. "It's obvious that you know me, but I don't recognize you."
"Nineteen years ago and in one sentence, you accused me of lying, cheating and stealing when I did neither of the three," said Beth. Juanita looked at Beth as to try to figure out who Beth was. "Believe it or not I actually owe you for those false accusations because that day did help shape who I am today."
Juanita read Beth's nametag and said, "You're Kimmy O'Brian."
Beth inhaled in an irritated manner. She then said in a calm manner, "That's me, Mrs. Harris, except I never liked being called Kimmy… and I still don't. Now getting back to you; there's nothing wrong with my sense of smell and I can smell cigarette smoke mixed with that perfume you're wearing. And from the discoloration of your fingernails, I say that you smoke about three packs a day."
Juanita looked at her fingernails for a second. She then said, "Two and a half packs."
Beth put her stethoscope to her ear and as she put the other end to Juanita's back, she said, "Okay, Mrs. Harris, I need you to take deep breaths for me."
Juanita breathed in and out a couple of times before saying, "Kimberly..."
"It's now Dr. O'Brian," Beth interrupted.
Juanita said in an almost belittling tone, "Oh, okay… sure." Beth slightly shook her head in a frustrated manner. "Dr. O'Brian, what do you mean by that you owe me for the way you are today?"
"Mrs. Harris, I was innocent off those accusations, but my mom believed you," said Beth. "My dad believed my mom. I hated the feeling of not being believed so that incident showed me how important it was to tell the truth. Now I'm not going to say that I haven't lied between now and then, but when I did lie, I felt that I had an excellent reason for it, such as protecting a friend from an injustice or not hurting my Aunt April's feelings when she cooks a bad meal."
"Dr. O'Brian, the answer to my test came up missing and the only reason that I was convinced that you had stolen it was because I had given that same test to my students each year for five years before you and several more years afterwards, and you were my only student who scored a perfect grade on it," said Juanita.
"I've scored perfect grades on your other tests since that first one, but it took six aced tests for you to stop watching me like a hawk," said Beth.
"No one in any of my classes had aced as many test as you did before or even after you came through my class," said Juanita. "I even kept track of your academic records all the way up to the sixth grade…"
Beth interrupted, "I didn't know about that."
"Well, I realized during the years that I watched you that you were a prodigy and I am truly sorry for accusing you like I did," said Juanita. "Will you ever forgive me?"
Beth couldn't help, but to grin. She then said, "I forgive you, Mrs. Harris."
"Dr. O'Brian, all those years ago when you were in my class, did you have a trick on how to study?" asked Juanita.
"There were no tricks, Mrs. Harris," said Beth. "I just have an excellent memory. In fact I can actually close my eyes and at will relive moments of my life just from my memories."
"I actually do recall that you closed your eyes from time to time during a test," said Juanita.
"I was either reliving the part of the lecture that went to the particular question or rereading the book from my head," said Beth.
"Wow, I would've never had thought that, that was even possible," said Juanita.
"My dad learned about what I can do when I was ten, and told me that my grandma… his mom, was able to do the same thing," said Beth. "My grandma also had a superior memory. Mrs. Harris, getting back to your medical issue, I'm going to send you to have your chest x-rayed."
"Do you suspect it to be something?" asked Juanita.
"It's really too early to even speculate, Mrs. Harris," said Beth. "For now sit tight and I'll inform the nurse that you need to be taken to x-ray.
Before Beth was able to walk away, Juanita asked, "Dr O'Brian, how long have you been a doctor?"
"I'm actually an intern and I past all of my tests to be here and I did it without cheating on any of those tests," said Beth. She then realized how that sounded. "I'm sorry for that last part."
"Don't be," said Juanita. "I know I deserve it."
Beth gestured towards the door and said, "I'll go and schedule you for that x-ray."
Juanita just nodded. Beth then turned and walked out. Seconds later, she was stepping up to the nurse's station and told the nurse to schedule Juanita for a chest x-ray. Before Beth was able to walk away the nurse said, "Oh, doctor, Dr. Eisen wants to see you in her office."
Beth looked at the nurse in a curious manner for a second. She then said, "Thanks for telling me." Beth turned and walked away.
Three minutes later, Beth knocked on Rebecca's door. She then heard, "Come in."
Beth opened the door and when she walked in she saw Clarence Wilier sitting in a guest chair and holding a briefcase in his lap. Beth looked at Rebecca and asked, "Should I come back when you're not busy."
"No; come in, Dr. O'Brian," said Rebecca. "This man is here to see you."
Clarence stood up and reached out his right hand to shake hands. He held his briefcase in his left hand. As Beth shook his hand, he said, "I'm Agent Clarence Wilier of the CIA, and I'm here on the behalf of the president of the United State."
In a joking manner, Beth said, "Gee, I just have a simple title of Dr. O'Brian."
Clarence slightly grinned and then said, "Yeah, well anyway, being that you are the voice of the colonies of Kobol, the president is worried of where your loyalty lies."
"Agent Wilier, I'm a patriot; I love my country and I would never do anything against it," said Beth.
"I believe you," said Clarence. "However, to ensure your patriotism, I would like for you to sign a nondisclosure agreement."
"I want to read the papers you want me to sign, before I sign anything," said Beth.
"Of course," said Clarence. Clarence put down his briefcase on the chair and opened it. He then pulled out the papers and handed them to Beth.
While Beth was thoroughly reading the papers in her usual quick pace, Rebecca said, "Dr. O'Brian, most likely you should take your time and read them."
"Oh, I'm a fast reader, and I'm not missing any points," said Beth. "My mom is also a contract lawyer, so I know a little about contract too." Beth then continued to read for a brief time. "Agent Wilier, before I sign any nondisclosure agreement, I want some stipulations added."
Rebecca slightly grinned as Agent Wilier said, "That is a standard nondisclosure agreement."
"No sir, it's not," said Beth. "With this agreement, you… well not you per se, but the government would literally own me. I wouldn't have any say over my life and that is not acceptable."
"And what kind of stipulations do you want in there?" asked Clarence.
"I do understand why the U.S. government wants exclusive rights over any national threat visions I might have, and I will gladly give the U.S. exclusive rights to them. However, this city is my home and that is where I stay. I do not commute anywhere for any reason. I also will not use my psychic abilities to point out a partial target to a sniper. Also I don't want any government involvement if I choose to help someone with my visions as long as it doesn't involve the U.S. as a whole, or another nation. Those are the stipulations."
"Well, with at least one of those stipulations, I think you watch too much TV…" said Clarence.
"I want that nondisclosure agreement retype with all of those stipulations that I just stated or I'm not signing anything," said Beth. "And don't think for a second that I'm scared to go to prison for not signing the existing paper, because I rather go to prison than be a puppet to the U.S."
Clarence slightly chuckled and said, "I can tell that you're not one to be easily intimidated by threats of any kind."
Beth shook her head and said, "No; I'm not."
"Well, I have to get this retype," said Clarence.
Beth looked at Rebecca and asked, "Until that is retyped, should I go back to work?"
"Go ahead and come back in about fifteen minutes," said Rebecca.
"Yes, Dr. Eisen," said Beth.
"Actually, I'm going to have to go to the local office to have this retype on the proper paper and I'll be back around one," said Clarence.
"I'm scheduled to assist Dr. Connelly with a surgery at one," said Beth.
"Well, I might be able to get back here at twelve-thirty and if not, I'll wait for you in the waiting room."
"Okay," said Beth. "Oh and if you do have to wait, the operation is supposed to be a simple one, so as long as there are no complications then surgery should be over within thirty minutes." Beth gestured towards the door. "Well, I better get back to work." She then turned towards the door to walk out.
10:55 A.M. local time at Gregg Rose's rented office, Greg was working on the computer at the secretary's desk. 'Windows XP for Dummies', 'The Internet for Dummies' and 'Success as a Real Estate agent for Dummies' were on the desk next to the monitor. A wooden door that led into Gregg's office was directly behind the secretary's desk. The office was an empty room. On the left side of the wooden door and against the wall were two empty filing cabinets. Twenty file boxes were stacked against the wall and to the left of the filing cabinets. A step stool was next to the boxes. When Number-Six opened the glass door to walk in, a bell sounded.
Gregg quickly looked up as Number-Six said quietly to herself, "Okay, that announcement bell will become annoying very quickly."
Gregg stood up and said, "I see you found the place all right."
"I did," said Number-Six. "Although I'm new to the city, getting around it is not all that difficult."
Gregg gestured at the desk and said, "Well this will be your desk." As Number-Six stepped up to the desk, Gregg gestured to the file boxes. "Oh and I figured you may have your own filing system, so I hope you don't mind that I left putting up the files to you."
As Number-Six spotted the title of the top book on the desk, she said, "That's fine. I'll put them up." She then picked up the top book. "The Internet for Dummies?"
"Oh, I'm not calling you a dummy; in fact you may know all there is to know about a computer and the Internet," said Gregg. "Except for me, most people now days do. I bought them a year ago when I couldn't make heads or tails of the normal computers books, so I'm actually the dummy here." Number-Six slightly grinned. "I just brought them in just in case you didn't know about the computers or the Internet. I would like it if you look through the 'Success as a Real Estate agent for Dummies.' I figure it would help you to get a better understanding of the job."
""I'll read it," said Number-Six. "Gregg, if most people know about computers, how is it that you don't?"
"I was actually raised in an Amish society until the age of sixteen," said Gregg. Gregg didn't notice the confused expression on Number-Six's face. "So I never even saw a computer until I went on my Rumspringa and it wasn't until several years later that I even try to learn how to use one." Gregg then looked at his watch. "Anyway, I'm sorry to leave you alone so soon, but I actually have three houses to show starting in twenty minutes and I need to get there before the client gets there."
"Oh, I'll be all right," said Gregg. "I'll just read these books for dummies and put these files up."
"Sounds good and I'll see you in a couple of hours," said Gregg.
"Okay; bye," said Number-Six.
"Bye," said Gregg. He then walked past Number-Six and headed towards the door.
Number-Six sat down at the desk; picked up the 'Windows XP for Dummies' and flipped to the first page to start reading.
11:10 A.M. local time at the university hospital, Beth and Keith were walking into Archer's room.
Archer heard the footsteps and called out, "Nurse?"
"No, Uncle Archer, it's me; Kim-Lizzy," she said as she and Keith stepped up to the bed. "My brother Keith is with me also."
"Keith?" Archer commented as he searched his thoughts. "Keith, yes. Keith, I only saw you once in my life and you were about a year old then."
"Well, I'm twenty-one now," said Keith.
"I was thinking that you were around that age," said Archer. "So what was your dad's reaction when he heard that I was in town?"
Keith looked at Beth in a manner as if he wasn't sure to say anything. Beth saw the look she got and said, "Uncle Archer, Dad has been in the state prison for the last six years for embezzlement and I haven't talk with him for close to a week."
"There's a chance though that he'll be paroled in six months," Keith added.
"I would've never pegged him as being an embezzler," said Archer.
"Dad's innocent," Beth insisted. "He was set up as a pasty."
"It was Mr. Rainbow who set him up, wasn't it?" asked Archer.
In a confused manner, Beth asked, "Who?"
"I can't remember his name, but it's that governor he worked for," said Archer.
"It was, and he's the one thing in my life I would like to be able to forget," said Beth.
"Why do people call him Mr. Rainbow?" asked Keith.
"Actually, your grandpa and few others called him a chameleon, because of how easily he was able to change colors on a moment notice," said Archer. "He could ingratiate one crowd by saying one thing and then turn around and ingratiate another crowd by saying the opposite. He was so good at it that I called him Mr. Rainbow because he can ingratiate five different crowds in one evening."
Keith saw Beth in deep thought and asked, "Beth, is there anything wrong?"
Beth looked at Keith for a second. She then face Archer and said, "Uncle Archer, the evening of Grandma and Grandpa's wake, there was a huge argument between you, your siblings and dad. Just before us kids were ushered to the next room by Aunt Debra, I heard Uncle Brant calling Dad, a mealworm for the chameleon."
"Most likely he did," said Archer.
"Uncle Archer, why did you and your siblings cut yourself off from us?" asked Beth.
"Except for your parents, all of us were leery of Mr. Rainbow or whatever his real name is," said Archer. Beth just grinned. "Anyway, Brant is a captain now at the New York police department, but at the time, he was only an officer. Brant had evidence of criminal activity on Mr. Rainbow, but it was insufficient to even get an arrest warrant against him. As we were trying to convince your parent that Mr. Rainbow was bad news, the whole discussion turned into a huge feud. The feud ended with your parents leaving with you, Keith and Brandon."
"Wait," Beth blurted out. "Was it mom and dad who cut us of from everyone?"
"It was actually a mutual agreement with all of us," said Archer. "As long as your dad was working for or even associating with Mr. Rainbow not one of us wanted a thing to do with him."
"How did Dad get his job working for… for Mr. Rainbow anyway?" asked Keith.
"I don't know the answer to that," said Archer.
"Mom introduced dad to that jerk," said Beth.
"How do you know that?" asked Keith.
"Grandma told me a week after dad was arrested," said Beth.
"How did mom know him?" asked Keith.
"That part I don't know and I didn't want do risk getting into an argument with mom by enquiring about it," said Beth. Beth's and Keith's attentions were drawn to Sally, Daniel and Cindy as they walked in.
Archer heard someone walking in and asked, "Who's here?"
"It's me, honey," said Sally. "Daniel and Cindy are with me. My parents will be here later."
Beth's pager sounded and as Beth went to look at it Keith asked, "Are you being paged away?"
As Beth looked at the pager she said, "Yeah, I'm being page to the E.R." Beth looked at Sally. "Aunt Sally, in case you don't remember, this is my younger brother Keith. Keith, meet Aunt Sally and our cousins Daniel and Cindy."
"Hi," Keith, Daniel and Cindy said in unison.
"Uncle Archer, I'll be back and visit when I can," said Beth.
"Bye," said Archer.
Beth turned and walked out.
At Boeing Manufacturer Company, the order for the X-9 Eagles was tripled per month. To fill the demand the production for certain commercials planes were stopped and the die for those lines were switched for the X-9 Eagles.
11:25 P.M. Beth again was walking into an examination room while carrying a chart and x-rays belonging to Juanita.
Juanita saw Beth walking in and asked, "Dr. O'Brian, have you figured out what's wrong with me?"
"Yes, Mrs. Harris," said Beth as she stepped up to Juanita. "Mrs. Harris, you have bronchitis. You came in early enough so clearing it up won't be a problem."
"Bronchitis," Juanita said in a mocking manner.
Beth looked at Juanita in a curious manner and asked, "Is there anything wrong?"
"Every person I know who smokes and suffered from bronchitis was told to quit smoking," said Juanita.
"Mrs. Harris, I can treat you for bronchitis, but unless you quit smoking you will never be free from it," said Beth. "In fact, most likely it will even get worse if you don't quit smoking."
"Dr. O'Brian, in the past ten years I tried four times to quit smoking," said Juanita. "My husband even smokes so I know any future attempts to quit smoking will end like the last four times."
"There's a slight difference between those four times and now," said Beth.
"How so?" asked Juanita.
"If you keep smoking more than two packs a day while having bronchitis, it will eventually kill you," said Beth. "So this time, your life depends on you quitting."
"I tried several ways to quit like the patches, hypnoses… the gum, but nothing works," said Juanita. "Do you know of a method I don't know about?"
"Cigarettes are addictive substance and perhaps you should treat it as if your addiction were drugs or alcohol," said Beth.
"Are you suggesting that I join some kind of support group as if I'm a drug addict?" asked Juanita.
"They're out there and one of those groups just might add years to your life," said Beth.
"I'll consider a support group," said Juanita.
"While you're considering it, I'll prescribe you something to help clear it up, but until you actually quit smoking, this may all be in vain," said Beth.
"I understand," said Juanita.
Beth took out her prescription pad to write out the prescription.
11:55 A.M. local time at Gregg Rose's rented office, Number-Six, while on the Internet, had looked up want it meant to be Amish. After getting a good understanding of how Amish people lived she type in the two words 'United State' in the search engine to see what she was able to learn about that. After satisfying her curiosity about the United States, she searched for what other things meant. The more she learned of things the more she found something else to look up. As she was doing her web browsing she learned of the warning of the Cylon threat from one of the websites.
12:10 P.M., at the university hospital Chris was looking over Number-Eight's chart. The room that Number-Eight was in was a double room, but the second bed was empty. A TV was mounted on the wall, which was turned off.
Number-Eight came out of her short coma and noticed how she was bandaged up and hooked to an IV. When she saw Chris she asked in a sluggish voice, "Where am I?"
"Hi, I'm Dr. Gates, and you survived a plane crash which won you a resting get-a-way at this lovely hospital," he said. "For your stay here though, we will need your proper name along with a name and number of an emergency contact for you."
"What do you mean by my proper name?" asked Number-Eight.
"Since you were alone and had no identification, we listed you as a Jane Doe," said Chris.
Number-Eight looked at Chris in a confused manner for a second. She then took a chance and said, "I'm Gina White."
"Ms. White, is there anyone that I can call and inform him or her of you being here?" asked Chris.
Chris noticed a more relaxing expression on Number-Eight's face just before she said, "There's no one to contact. Doctor, what is my condition?"
"You suffered a few broken bones, internal injuries and lacerations, but don't worry, you're on the road to make a full recovery," said Chris. "Well, I'm going to get a nurse in here and get the pertinent information so we can have it on file."
Chris saw a worried expression on Number-Eight's face as she asked, "What kind of information?"
"We need to know what city and state you're from… or country if it's not the U.S. along with any medical history that you can give us and the name of your medical provider," said Chris.
"Doctor, I'm not trying to be difficult, but I can't answer those questions so you will be wasting your time getting someone in here to ask," said Number-Eight.
"Are you unwilling to tell me or are you having difficulty remembering things?" asked Chris.
Chris saw a slight grinned on Number-Eight's face before she said, "I'm having difficulty remembering things."
"You remember your name, but you can't remember where you are from," Chris commented.
"To be honest, Doctor, I'm not absolutely certain if my name is Gina White," said Number-Eight. "Gina White was the name that first came to me."
Chris looked over the chart for a brief moment. He then said, "Ms. White, you did suffered a slight head trauma; however, the trauma you suffered is not severe enough to cause amnesia."
"Are you accusing me of lying?" asked Number-Eight.
"I'm not implying that at all, ma'am," Chris quickly said. "However, I can't help to think that you may be faking."
"Why would I be faking?" asked Number-Eight.
"I admit that I'll be coming across that I watch too much television, but you could be running and hiding from someone," said Chris. "Someone like an abusive husband, and surviving a plane crash as you did, would provide you the great opportunity to really disappear."
"I'm not running from anyone, Doctor," said Number-Eight. "I can't remember and I'm not certain if Gina White is my name."
Chris took out his pen and as he began writing he said, "Okay, I'm adding to your chart that you are suffering from amnesia. I guess you are truly a Jane Doe." After writing in the chart Chris put the chart back. "Well, other than not able to remember things, how are you; how do you feel?"
"I hurt all over," said Number-Eight. "Is there anything you can give me for the pain?"
"I will get a nurse in here to give you a shot of morphine," said Chris.
"A shot of morphine will ease the pain?" asked Number-Eight.
"It will," said Chris. "Well, I'll get a nurse in here to give you that shot." He then turned and walked away. Dr. Snyder was at the nurse's station when Chris walked up. Chris was intimidated by Dr. Snyder and every time Chris would speak to him, Chris would stumble through his words. "Doctor… I'm mean Dr. Snyder." Dr. Snyder looked at Chris in a curious manner. "We have a woman… there is a woman… a patient… one of the survivors from the plane crash… I think that she's faking amnesia."
"Why do you think that?" asked Dr. Snyder.
"She's acting… Well, I believe she's pretending as though she can't remember anything," said Chris. "Oh she did tell me that her name was Gina White. I'm mean at first she did, but then she's saying that she's not sure what her name is."
"I'll go talk to her," said Dr. Snyder.
"Dr. Snyder, she's complaining of pain so I was going to get a nurse to give her a shot of morphine," said Chris.
"Sounds good; give the order," said Dr. Snyder. He then turned and walked towards Number-Eight's room.
When Dr. Snyder walked in, he saw that Number-Eight had her eyes closed and was gritting her teeth from the pain she was in. When Number-Eight heard Dr. Snyder walking in, she opened her eyes to look at him. She then asked, "Are you here to give me something for my pain?"
"Someone will be in shortly for that," he said. "I'm Dr. Snyder and I'm actually here because I understand that you are having difficulty on remembering things."
"That's true," said Number-Eight. "I can't remember."
"Can you tell me the last thing that you do remember?" asked Dr. Snyder.
Number-Eight hesitated before answering, "Waking up here a few minutes ago and talking to Dr. Gates is the only memories I have."
"So you can't tell me of who's the president of the United States or the last date that you remember," Dr. Snyder commented.
"I honestly can't," said Number-Eight.
Dr. Snyder picked up Number-Eight's chart and looked at it. He then said, "Amnesia could be cause by other things besides a severe trauma to the head. For some amnesia is an emotional defense and if that is the case, your memory loss is only temporary."
Dr. Snyder's and Number-Eight's attentions were drawn to the nurse coming in. The nurse held up a syringe that she was holding and said, "I was told to give this woman some morphine."
Dr. Snyder just gestured for her to proceed. He then put the chart back as the nurse walked up to the IV bag and injected the morphine into a receptacle at the bag.
"Ma'am, I know you told Dr. Gate that you're not sure what your name is, but he also said that you originally said that your name was Gina White," said Dr. Snyder. "Is it okay for me to call you Ms. White?"
"Until my real name is discovered you can," said Number-Eight.
"Good," said Dr. Snyder. The nurse was done and was leaving the room. "Ms. White, you were brought in along with the wounded who survived a plane crash. The people who work with the airlines keep great records and the police in this city have great detective skills."
"What are you getting at, Doctor?" asked Number-Eight.
"All of the passengers from the plane were identified by the airline officials and all of the motorists of the cars involved and their passengers were also identified by the police," said Dr. Snyder. "You; however, are someone who is not on a known list. It's like you dropped in from outer-space…"
"Well, the airline records are wrong," said Number-Eight.
"You weren't a passenger on the plane or part of the motorists and most likely that is why you are claiming to have amnesia," Dr. Snyder was able to get out.
Number-Eight asked in an angry tone, "Why is it hard to believe that I can't remember things?"
"I'm not judging you," said Dr. Snyder. "I'm just trying to get to the truth."
"The truth is that I have amnesia," said Number-Eight. "And I didn't fall from outer-space."
"I didn't think that you did fall from outer-space," said Dr. Snyder. "But where you did come from is a mystery to be solved."
"Where I come from is a mystery to me too and the gods know that I want to help solve this mystery," said Number-Eight.
Dr. Snyder caught Number-Eight's words and as he looked at Number-Eight in a confused manner he enquired, "The gods?"
Number-Eight saw the looked she got and said in an uncertain manner, "I'm meant, god." Dr. Snyder then saw a curious expression on Number-Eight's face. "Wow, the morphine works. I barely feel any pain."
Dr. Snyder grinned. He then said, "Ms. White, if you are faking amnesia, which I'm not saying you are, there are other ways to deal with problems."
"I'm not faking, Doctor," said Number-Eight.
"Okay," said Dr. Snyder. "Well, with the severity of your injuries, you'll most likely be here for at least a week. I'll let you rest now, but before I go you should know that most amnesia cases are temporary."
"Dr. Snyder, before you leave, can you turn on the screen for me?" asked Number-Eight.
Dr. Snyder looked at Number-Eight in a confused manner, he mocked, "Screen?" Number-Eight looked at the TV. He then turned to look at what she was looking at. "Oh, you mean television." He saw the confused look Number-Eight gave him. "Of course; I'll turn it on for you." Dr. Snyder picked up the remote off the table next to the bed and turned it on. "I'll flip through the channels for you and when you see a program you like, just stop me."
"I would like to see a news program," said Number-Eight.
"Okay, then CNN would be the channel for you," said Dr. Snyder. He then turned it to CNN.
"Thank you, Doctor," said Number-Eight.
"You're welcome," said Dr. Snyder. He then turned and walked out.