Chapter SeventeenTimothie leaned across the table at Jane's Texas Steakhouse as Reginald flipped a box of yellow goggles back and forth between his pale hands. The glasses rattled in the box. The red lenses flashed and sparked. At other tables nearby, no one engaged in conversation but they all possessed the power to cloud minds – a room of automatons. Reginald gestured at his fellow diners and grinned.
“Amazing, isn't it? Friggin' amazing,” he said, adjusting a pair of goggles on his nose. “We tried to figure out how to bring them to life. It worked so well that even Dennis Ducksworth and Justin Harper wear them, and if you tune into the CBC or NBC news, then you'll see the effect on world policy.”
“I noticed.”
“Stephen Hawking has revised the doomsday clock one minute closer to total
