looked at your fMRI,” he told her. “You’re not neurotypical, are you?” Wyatt stared at him. “So what?” This wasn’t news. She was very aware her brain didn’t function the same way most people’s did. “Your brain isn’t the standard, unlike most of the kids recruited for this program. That means someone in top brass”—he gestured upward with a big finger—“authorized your admission to this program as an experiment to see how a brain like yours will tolerate a neural processor. Did anyone tell you what these machines can do to a human brain?”
