“Yikes.” He startled. Two identical faces stood upright in the box, staring at each other with blank eyes. They were like unfinished statues: they had features, but they were not refined, and seemed incapable of expression. He started to lift them out of the box, then realized that they were attached to something. With care, he managed to extract the entire structure: a large, black box with knobs and buttons, and the faces on their stand, wired to it. It all seemed to be intact. Carlton eyed the wall socket by Jessica’s bed for a moment, then grabbed the cord, and plugged the whole thing in. An array of lights came on, red and green, flashing on and off seemingly at random, then stabilizing: some off, some on. Several fans started to whir. Carlton looked at the faces: they were stretching, almost mimicking human movement. “Creepy,” he whispered.

“You, me,” said the first, and he jumped back, disconcerted.

“We, she,” said the second. He stared, waiting for more, but they were apparently finished for the moment, motionless and silent. Carlton shook his head, trying to make himself focus, though all he really wanted to do was sit here and watch the two faces, and see what else they might have to say. Or talk to them. He went back to the box: the earpieces John had described were wrapped up in a thin layer of bubble wrap. They looked like hearing aids, small clear pieces of plastic, full of wiring, with a tiny switch on one side. Carlton flipped the switch on one, and put it in his ear. Instantly, the faces turned to him, tilting up like they were looking straight at him. Can they see me?

“Hi?” Carlton said reluctantly.

“Who?” one asked.

“Carlton,” he answered nervously.

“You,” the other said.

“Me,” said the first.