The glass shoe fits

Doctor Ingres leaned forward, keying the com with his finger while moving his lips close to the mic. “Exit.”

Martin, on autopilot, half-lidded, abruptly stood and turned toward the door in the back of the room. He plodded out into the narrow hallway and moved toward the next station, seeing nothing.

Ingres turned to his colleague. “Was I reading that right, Canton? Maybe the sensors were misplaced, or loose-”

“No,” interrupted Canton, “I double-checked. We gave him nine. No system toggles at the transition states, either. Like it wasn’t happening.”

“But, there was definitely REM once he was in. He was seeing it. How could he not…” Ingres, at a loss for words for once, began writing, filling in today’s test form. To Canton, he seemed overly absorbed with it all of a sudden.

“What do we do? Just move to the next one? Don’t we have to call someone? Shouldn’t we?”

Ingres spoke carefully. “Wait until we see it again tomorrow. No way we found someone after a month of testing. It’s a glitch.”

View this story's 1 comments.