"So this is a trance..." Alice queried, starring intently at the bewitched reader. The reader, a middle-aged man clothed by in a thick red nightgown and a plush pair of matching slippers, reclined against the red leather chair that he sat in, ignorant the bustling scientists around him. Alice had taken note of the man's loose posture and lack of animation. The man rarely took the time to blink his eye's, and twice, Alice could have sworn that the man had ceased breathing for seconds at a time. The man remained blissfully unaware of the wires that had stretched from his limbs and head, across the room to a large set of apparatus. Suddenly, he turned the page.