Stein glanced numbly at the hand on his shoulder. Birkin was talking crazy. What he said didn't make sense at all. Stein knew just what needed to happen now.

He shrugged off the hand and hopped up onto the operating table. "Right, I have to get better," he said, and gave a little giggle. "Time for the operation."

He seized a scalpel off of the table next to the table and brought it towards his own forehead.