Page 26
I drag the first one a few feet away and sit him beside an old wooden table, its surface scarred from years of use.
From my case, I pull out wires, clamps, sensors, a small device covered in blinking lights, and my notebook.
The notebook is filled with circles, arrows, half-finished theories, and, well… fucking lollipop doodles. But we won’t mention that.
Alexei looks over from the corner, arms crossed. “What are you testing?”
“Pain response.” I pause, then add proudly, “Specifically, whether the body gets confused if I give it two completely different signals at once.”
Alexei stares at me, and I grin. Then I attach the sensors and switch on the machine. The man watches it blink, his breathing getting faster. It gives a soft electronic chirp, and his eyes go wide.
I lean closer.
“Okay. On three.”
He shakes his head.
“One…”
He shakes it harder.
“Two…”
A muffled sound escapes him.
“Three.”
I activate the device.
His body jerks, and the table scrapes against the concrete. I immediately start writing in my notebook.
“Hm.” I change the setting and move my pen faster. “Oh, that’s interesting.” I adjust something else, then the machine clicks.
Suddenly, I stop. My smile fades. “No.”
His body jerks, but not the way I expected. The first response is obvious, then everything seems to stall for a second before the readings jump again. I stare at the monitor, pen hovering over the page. The signals aren’t canceling each other out like they should. They’re interfering in a completely different way, throwing the entire pattern off. I flip through the pages, searching for where everything went wrong.
“You’re ruining my hypothesis.” I start fiddling with the controls again.
“Hold on. Hold on. I almost have it.”
Another failed result. I gasp. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I slam my pen onto the table. “I spent three hours designing this.”
The man makes another muffled sound, and I point at him. “Don’t give me that look. You’re a terrible test subject.”
From behind me comes a quiet snort. I slowly turn around. Alexei is looking at the wall, but his shoulders are shaking.
I narrow my eyes. “Are you laughing at me?”
“No.”
“You’re a liar.”
His mouth twitches.
I turn back to the man with a wounded sigh, pressing a hand to my chest. “See what you’ve done? Now he’s laughing at me.”
I pick up my notebook and flip to a fresh page. “Fine. We’ll try something else. I think I made a bad decision.”
