It was poetic in so many ways. Marcus was unable to move his hands and the skullcap that was linking him to such a painful experience. The machine had rendered his hands immobile. It took intervention from Rufus, unbenign but serendipitous, to release Marcus’s grasp of the skullcap.
Rufus had recovered from the neck spasm that had temporarily immobilised him. More automaton than human being, he’d turned towards Marcus in the chair, grabbed his face with one hand and tore the skullcap and electrodes from the old man’s grip. Rufus shoved the skullcap on his own head, letting Marcus go.