It settled on the box Kenzie and I had hauled into the room.

“Oh my god, you stupid box,” Kenzie said. “No, I do not need you to find yourself.”

She kicked the box.

The cube-frame continued to dance around the room.

“You know you’re absolutely terrifying, right?” Chris asked.

“You can turn into a spider-face. You can turn into a blob of brain tissue and tentacles. You have a rage form,” Kenzie said.

“And yet you’re way scarier than I am.”

“Who are these people?” Sveta asked.

I continued to walk around the room, studying the men. The other woman was too blurry to make out, her visits too fleeting. From the way one man danced around the door, he might have repeatedly gone out with her.

Dark hair, dark clothes, pale face, dark eyes or sunglasses, for her.

One man had a red hat, it looked like. The other was bald.

While I stared, the door opened. Byron came in.

“Change your mind?” Chris asked.

“I saw the dots outside. I came to see what you were doing,” Byron said.

“I’ll clean that up before anyone else notices,” Kenzie said. “Probably picking up birds.”

She fiddled for a bit.

“No, stupid box!” Kenzie said. The cube-frame had settled on the box again. She kicked the box twice.

“Watch. You’re going to destroy that thing through your percussive maintenance,” Chris said.

“Am not. I know how it works. Aha! Thank you, box.”

The cube-frame had settled on the table by the window. A silver and black smear covered most of the table. Now the cube danced through the smear.

“Aaaand isolating,” she said. “I’m going to pull out the best images, going by what seems to be the most accurate. Medians and modes.”

The woman’s image at the edge of the bed remained, while the rest of her disappeared.

There was another image of her on the bed. She was in the middle of coitus with the bald man.

Sveta made a sound as she saw it, and moved to block Kenzie’s eyes. When the eyehook looked over Sveta’s head, she pulled it down.

“I need to see to take it down. There. We don’t need that, thank you,” Kenzie said. She tapped the top of the box. The image disappeared.

“You’re going to be so much scarier when you’re older,” Chris said.

“Well,” Kenzie said. “Probably. I’m hoping to get a handle on things before then.”

“Breaking and entering and getting footage of people in bed isn’t progress,” Byron said.

“This is important,” Kenzie said. Her expression was serious.

We had our images. Kenzie had saved three to four images of each person, as they stood in the room.

The strawberry blonde with tattoos down her arm wore a cat mask and a bodysuit, as she leaned against the wall. The bald man wore war paint.