...Adam crouched in the centre of his glass box; hands over his ears, eyes scrunched shut. As the sound bombarded him, the light flared for a moment before returning to its previous low level. It was so sudden and Adam so unprepared that it hurt his eyes for a second and left black spots dancing across his vision. Even now he saw odd flashes of color overridden by dark splotches and the natural reaction of closing his eyes didn’t help at all.

At last the sound died, and he cautiously moved his hands and opened his eyes. Frowning, he looked around him. That couldn’t be right. His eyes must be playing tricks. Yet his archaeological experience had taught him many things, one of which was judging distances. The room was smaller. Not by much, but he was sure he was right.

“You okay?” Rafe called to him, his voice sounding farther away to Adam.

“Just a little disoriented again,” Adam replied as he began a second tour of the walls, measuring as he went. It was not a precise method, but he thought it would be enough to gauge if there had been any change.

“I’m not surprised. That was something else,” agreed Rafe. “Adam, er, did you notice anything…odd about that…grinding noise?”

“Odd?” asked Adam.

“Yeah. What’re you doing?”

“Er, just checking something.”

“Adam?”

“Just a minute.”

“Adam, don’t try to hide anything from me. It’s important I know what’s happening to you. This…half-vision of you is damned annoying.”

“Okay, Rafe, I won’t. I just wanted to check before I said anything. You asked if I noticed anything odd?”

“Yep,” Rafe said after a minute. “Damn, I nodded in answer. I keep forgetting you can’t see me either.”

“It’s okay. Rafe, does the fact my…room is now a little smaller come under the category of important?” Adam asked, and he could hear the consternation in his own voice.