Alice sat up and looked around. The room was as clean and organized as an operating room: white featureless walls, recessed storage, black rubber floor, and a closed metal door. She sat on the lip of a large metal box, a standard organic printer, and saw her curved reflection in the drum-shaped scanner opposite. It was silent, no voices or footsteps. Alice rolled to her side, swung out her legs and tried to sit, but her head was all wrong—too heavy and hot—and she overbalanced grabbing the stretcher for support.