With all of the panic and alarms buzzing around, Kenji and Sue, alongside the doctor, start to walk towards the unmoving body of Lee. When they get about halfway there, everyone stops: Lee’s parents and the doctor are in the process of taking a step; Bexy the Brainiaxian, his fingers hover over the glass as he looks through it; Beta and Charlie even drop their communicators, letting them clang to the floor. Little Sakura is the only one shaking her head while covering her ears to muffle the blaring sound of the alarm.

  This happens because Lee stands up in a seated position, looking around confused, while the machine is still saying he is brain-dead. Then he asks, “What happened? Why is the alarm on?”

  Sue runs to Lee and, holding his arms softly, asks, “Are you okay, son?”

  Lee nods. “Yes! When the machine did the check on the connections, I closed my eyes, then I felt like a massage on my head when it said it was going to look for blood.” Lee then shrugs. ”So I just fell asleep, and this alarm woke me up.”

  Bexy turns off the alarms, making the room fall almost into a deafening silence. “Now I can speak,” he states after a short moment. “Now, let’s try this once more… can Lee’s mum or dad stay five steps away from him—only one of you—and talk to him? It can be about anything, just so he doesn’t fall asleep again as I restart the test.”

  Sue takes a few steps back as the doctor and Lee’s dad go back behind the glass wall. Kenji picks Sakura up and places her on his lap as he takes a seat on the chair.

  Bexy runs the test but still gets the "brain dead" message; this time, he has the alarms on silence.

  “What does this mean, Master Bexy?” asks the doctor.

  “It means that the impossible can happen,” declares Bexy.

  Kenji leans a bit forward to see Bexy’s facial expression. “And what would that be? Medical machines can give fake diagnoses?”

  “What? No, of course not,” he says, shaking his head. “That is ancient news; if the machinery is not set correctly or is out of date, it will give false diagnoses… the impossible is that my creations are incomplete.” Bexy starts to pace around as he mumbles. “It’s understandable that the readings would be low; after all, these settings are for a terran-Brainiaxian, but even so, it was supposed to detect very faint cerebral activity.” He then turns sharply and faces the doctor. “You—you said he created something in the test?”

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  The doctor nods with a shrug. “Every time we run the test, it shows a black screen, semi-transparent, with the floating text and a robotic sound all around reading the text.”

  Bexy nods. “But that is how it is supposed to be. Nothing new.”

  “That is not what happened when he did the test!” says Beta, still standing up by her chair, the device she dropped still lying at her feet.

  “What happened when he did the test?” Bexy asks, intrigued.

  Doctor Jaborian starts to recount what happened. “At first, everything seemed normal: black, plain text displayed over a semi-transparent screen. Then the screen became more transparent, and it seemed like the text was being displayed over glass.”

  Bexy nods his head. “Nothing wrong there. The grade of transparency depends on the child; the fact that it became that transparent probably just means that the child wasn’t feeling that secure; therefore, it was showing what was around him. But continue.”

  The doctor takes a deep breath to relax. “But then, just as he was starting to read the text, he gave a small giggle. A sound of something ripping was heard, and above the text, the screen looked like it was breaking apart and a little cartoon figure of a robot came to life.”

  “To me, it looked like he came from the broken bit of screen,” says Charlie, tapping her lips with her index finger as she thinks. Beta nods.

  “Did you ask about the robot?” Bexy asks the doctor.

  He shakes his head and replies, “Not me, but someone did. Lee stated that it wasn’t him who made it; the voice that was reading the text reminded him of the robot. Apparently, he had seen it in some cartoon at school.”

  “That’s interesting,” Bexy says when the doctor takes a breath.

  Doctor Jaborian nods his head. “But if it was just that, no problem. Then one of the nurses had the idea of asking him to move the text… and the kid asked the robot to help him. Next thing we know, the robot grabs the text and sticks it to the wall.”

  Bexy’s four eyes move in different directions at random for a bit, then fixate on Lee through the glass wall. “What then?” he asks the doctor without removing his four eyes from Lee.

  The doctor gives out a laugh, remembering the answer. “When we mentioned that we didn’t know that it was possible to do that, he asked us if we had ever tried to do it.”

  Bexy's head turns sharply to look at Doctor Jaborian, then back at Lee, and once more to the doctor, and points at Lee. “That kid is one of a kind. He just made me ponder my existence… because if it really is possible for anyone to do that, and the fact is that no one ever tried…” Bexy starts to laugh; his laugh sounding like a twenty-first-century hard drive scratching as it boots up. Then, after composing himself, he adds, “Imagine what the test program can do if we try to do things beside what is intended.”

  While the doctor, alongside Beta and Charlie, is pondering the possibilities, Bexy turns on his heels and walks towards Lee with a spring in his step. The lights on his head are like the pulsing lights of a disco, not always going in the same direction or speed, and once in a while—and for the first time since entering the examination room—the shines of different colours are visible.