She flipped a small black switch and little lights blinked; tiny cooling fans began to whir. They didn’t move right away, but there was a change. The vague features took on a sense of purpose. Their blind eyes didn’t turn to Charlie: they looked only at each other. “You,” said the first. Its lips moved to shape the syllable, but never parted. They weren’t made to open. “I,” the second replied, making the same soft, constrained movement. “You are,” said the first. “Am I?” said the second.
