“Just stare at his forehead. He will freak the fuck out if you look him in the eyes. Alright, we good?”

“Let’s do it.”

They file in wearing their gear. When the door closes behind them the exigencies of the situation become fully apparent. Mars Bars is situated in the back of the room in his see-through glass box/chair next to a screen which is still blinking with stimuli, but he’s twisted around so that he’s facing them, his arms and legs gesticulating from within the box whatever strange emotions are thrumming through him. Above his protruding head is a mechanical strut. The top of the recording chamber is normally screwed into the strut, but now it’s just holding the ripped-away recording chamber itself hanging entirely free of the monkey’s head, off to the side. The fur has kept his face free of blood, but the top of his head is more than scalped. It almost appears to wobble, and when he dips his head slightly there is a literal hole, a curved, gelatinous gap, red at the edges and a darker shadow within, and it is unclear exactly what they are seeing, but during the dip there is a shifting of something inside his skull which causes Carmen to gasp.

Mars Bars’ breathing is a loud wheezing. He’s looking over at them, his hands trapped in the glass box clenching and unclenching over and over. But his face is almost quizzical, like he’s honestly confused about exactly what’s happening, like he’s puzzled why they won’t entertain him or feed him or cart him back to his cage.

Carmen is the first to move, scooting over to the side and grabbing the bowl of grapes—her vision a tunnel, flitting hurriedly on the grapes, the table, her own gloved hand out grabbing the edge of the bowl, another hand to grab the tongs, not looking over at Mars Bars, moving back to Alex, her feet tracking beneath her.

Alex meanwhile has started cooing at Mars Bars, talking to him quietly, while Kierk is scanning the shelves on the other side of the room for the Domitor.

Carmen hands Alex the grapes and tongs, begins backing away.

“Nope,” she says, glancing at the monkey with its exposed scalp, the top part of it all wrong, its eyes darting black marbles, its mouth expressive, but of what?

“Nope,” she repeats. “Nope. I’m going to let you boys deal with this. Nope. Nope.” The door closes behind her and immediately the portal is filled with her face, her mask is pulled down and she’s pointing to the monkey mouthing—Go!

Kierk and Alex look at each other, then back at Mars Bars.

Spotting the Domitor Kierk takes a step toward it but there’s a snake-like hiss now coming from Mars Bars, a strange alien spotlight falling on Kierk, a primitive attention now fixed.