"Can't you just block them out?" Isabel asked.

"I used to decide when I wanted to make the connection," Max explained. "Now it's pretty much permanent, but I can sort of turn the volume up or down."

"Permanent," Isabel repeated. She stacked her empty sweetener packets, making sure all the edges were perfectly in line, then she reached across the table, snagged Liz's empty sugar packet, and stuck it on the top of the pile.

She's freaked by the idea, Max realized. Isabel always went into her clean-and-organize routine when she was upset.

"It's actually kind of cool," he told her. "It's like everything you do, you're doing it for the first time. Their reactions feel almost like your reactions, and everything becomes much more… intense."

"But you can't turn them off. You can only turn them down. Is that the deal?" Michael asked. He didn't sound happy.

"Pretty much," Max answered.

Michael shoved his hands through his spiky black hair. "I read about this guy in Japan who agreed to stay in his apartment for one year and have his whole life broadcast on TV. He only got to have stuff he won in contests, so at first he didn't have food, or clothes, or even toilet paper. The guy was wiping his butt with his hand, and everyone was watching him on the tube." Michael paused for breath and jabbed his finger at Max. "You're that guy, Max."

"Hey, I always use toilet paper," Max joked.

Michael didn't even crack a smile. "Pretty soon I'm going to be that guy, too."

"Even I'm going to be that guy," Isabel said.

It was true, or at least it was true that Michael and Isabel would have to make their own connections to the consciousness when they went through their akinos. If they didn't, they'd die.

"And anyway, you're the one who's going to have most of the original experiences," Michael said. "If I eat an AstroNut after my akino, the consciousness will have already tasted it through you, so-"