“You guys really love pronouns, huh?” Carlton said. There was no answer from the faces. He took out the earpiece and flipped the switch off, and simultaneously the faces turned back to each other. Makes you visible. Right, he thought with a shiver. He turned back to the earpiece itself, sliding his thumbnail into the thin seam that ran around the edge of the casing. It popped open easily, revealing a mess of wires and a tiny computer chip. “Just switch the wires, it’s that easy,” he muttered to himself. There was a lamp on a nightstand beside Jessica’s bed, and he turned it on, holding the earpiece under the light. He stared at it, looking for a clue as to what John had been suggesting, angling the tiny object from side to side. At last he spotted it: a single, empty round input, outlined in red. “And why is nothing plugged in to you?” Carlton said triumphantly. He sorted through the other wires until he found one that matched it, the outline green. He quickly switched the wire to the red-lined plug and snapped the case back together, then switched it on and stuck it back in his ear. The faces did not move.

“What’s wrong? Don’t want to talk to me anymore?” he said loudly. There was no response. “Excellent,” he said, satisfied. He took out the earpiece and put it in his pocket, then grabbed the other one as well. He unplugged the experiment and was about to pack it back into the box, when he felt a sudden prickling between his shoulders, as if someone was standing directly behind him. He could almost feel breath on his neck. Carlton held very still, scarcely breathing, then he spun around, his hands raised to defend himself.

The room was empty. He flicked his eyes from side to side, unconvinced that he was alone, but there was nothing there. “Just pack up and get out,” he said weakly, but his heart was still pounding in his chest like he was fighting for his life. He took a deep breath, and went back to the experiment. Before he could touch it, the room dipped under him like a ship bobbing in the ocean, and he fell to his knees, clutching the bed frame to steady himself. His vision blurred: nothing was fixed in place anymore, everything in the room seemed like it was moving at various speeds and different directions. Carlton let go of the bed frame and sank to the floor as a piercing whine arose, quickly ascending to a pitch too high to perceive. He covered his ears, but it did nothing to ease the nausea. The room kept spinning, and his stomach lurched; he groaned, holding his head and closing his eyes, but the movement continued. He clenched his teeth, grimly determined not to vomit. What is happening?