Edward's had to explain this to plenty of people (professors, fellow scientists) enough he rattles it off as if by rote.



"No, not like that--it's not an operation at all. Entirely external, the disc is a patch that's placed on the forehead. It uses electronic pulses," Edward presses a finger to his temple, tapping along with every two words, "to assist in storing and recalling information, and the majority of it stays on the drive instead of overflowing the average human brain. The only side-effect is increased perception of concepts for a few minutes after removal, which is easy enough to negate outside of extreme sources of stimulation. In other words, don't use it at your next rock concert or the circus unless you'd like a nasty headache."

Edward pauses, finger shifting from head to tapping at his lips, changing gears from excited to just on the edge of flat in an instant. "That is quite a sharp thing." It's an observation, not admitting to anything. He didn't say he didn't believe what the child told him before.