Hanging up in the lab, there are twenty-one keys. I tried them all in the metal door. Three of them fit the key hole. One of them turned. A big key. I turned it back when I heard someone coming out of the lift. I'll look in there another time. It's not something that bothers me; I just had another dream about Bob.

The dreams are getting more frequent, and they're so vivid. I feel like I'm really there. Maybe I am. I've sleepwalked before. Maybe I'm half awake, standing in front of the closed door, imagining I can see Bob. Last night's dream continued the previous one. The whole back wall throbbed with white fungus. Cilia squirmed out all over, some of them nearly two inches long. Strands spread along the corners of the room. There was no sign of Bob in that mass, apart from the tiny hole that led to his eye. I knew the hole would be gone the next time I was here. I stared for a while, and wondered whether he could see me.