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beside the long counter. Looking down at the room from above, the left side would resemble the letter E. Computer monitors, an unidentifiable box-like apparatus, greasy mechanical parts, and strips of wire covered the three counters in an orderly fashion—although, Ben had no idea what that order may be. Several cube-shaped machines, some four feet high with thick cords jutting out from random slots, sat heavy on the ground. Red and green LED lights blinked in random intervals from various parts. A CAT scanner, or what looked like a CAT scanner, sat large in the opposite corner. Thick black cords trailed from the back, connecting to a desk covered with computer monitors and blinking control panels.
    “Welcome to our lab, Ben,” Dr. Wulfric said, walking from desk to desk, turning on switches and bringing computer monitors to life.
    “Nice lab,” Ben said, not sure how to reply since he had no idea what he was looking at.
    “Fortunately for us, our lab is in a house rather than a hospital. It gives the room a rather, well, warm feel. Wouldn’t you say?”
    Ben looked around. He noticed the same playful sconces lining the inside walls. They cast a reddish glow from their swirled glass covers along the room’s highly detailed molding and trim. A light gray plastic—or perhaps rubber—mat covered the floor, but Ben could see hard wood along the edges. If it were not for the harsh fluorescent lights overhead, the lab would certainly resemble a sitting room rather than a lab.
    “Yes, Dr. Wulfric, I have to agree with you. This is much better than a hospital.”
    “Please, Ben, call me Peter.”
    “Peter, does the lab extend back there?” Ben pointed to a set of double doors in the middle of the far wall, and one singular door to the left of it.
    “Um,” Dr. Wulfric began, staring at a monitor as it spewed numbers, “Not exactly.” He looked up. “The one on the left goes to the second floor. The other leads to a separate room—nothing to do with the lab. Come, Ben. Take a seat.”
    Ben sat on a swivel-stool next to Dr. Wulfric. A moment later the single door on the left side of the room opened, and a tall man wearing a lab coat entered.
    “Ben,” Dr. Wulfric said, not looking up from the computer, “this is my assistant, Dr. Charles Egan.”
    “Nice to meet you.” Dr. Egan shook Ben’s hand.
    “Likewise.”
    Ben recognized the nasally voice from the telephone call the previous day. Dr. Egan was a gaunt man with prominent facial bones and thick glasses. Under his lab coat, he wore the same generic button-down shirt as Dr. Wulfric, only his tie was plain and drab. Dr. Wulfric’s tie, Ben noticed, was vibrant, resembling modern art.
    Dr. Wulfric looked up from the monitor. “Dr. Egan,” he said, “would you please lower the lights?”
    Dr. Egan nodded and went to the light switch. The atmosphere immediately became subdued. Fluorescent lights gave Ben a headache—not an aura migraine—but a headache nonetheless. Plenty of natural light came in from the high windows bordering the ceiling.
    Dr. Wulfric typed something on the keyboard, and the numbers disappeared from the computer screen, replaced by a still image. “Here we are,” he said. “Sit back and enjoy the show.”
    Dr. Wulfric hit play , and the images on the screen came to life. Whatever they were watching was shaky and fuzzy. It looked like a home movie from the ‘80s—like something his father with no photography experience would have taped when he was a child. There was a small pond, with maybe … something moving … birds, perhaps. Yes, definitely birds, distorted and pixilated. They flew upward. The camera panned along the horizon, following them until they disappeared out of view.
    Then the screen flashed and displayed just a jumble of colors and thick pixilated shapes. Ben squinted. It was nonsense. There were people on the screen, lost behind distortion and blur, oddly shaped and almost impossible to make out. Someone walking