The Search

In a tiny dark room stood two men, one from the organization, the other was born with tiny ears and the ability to get the job done. They stared out a large window looking out at the universe. They used his tiny ears to listen in on microscopic worlds.

"What do you hear?" Agent Dunbar asked.

"Shh..." replied Heywood, aiming his right ear toward the target. He heard voices. They were all clamoring for attention, screaming, whispering, singing, booing, cheering, chanting, exclaiming, sighing, whimpering, whining and some were even sleep talking. "It's hard to make out who's who."

"You need a filter."

"God, no, please, no more filters," Heywood begged, cowering into a dark corner.

Agent Dunbar pierced his skull with a hypodermic needle full of a yellow liquid. Paralyzed with pain, Heywood collapses to the floor with the needle still stuck in his skull, occasionally twitching.

"Quit screwing around. We have work to do." Agent Dunbar pulled the needle from Heywood's skull. Heywood regained consciousness and stood up, dusting his pants off. He re-aimed his ear.

"I hear him," Heywood said.

"What's he saying?"

Heywood said nothing. He was listening to himself and Agent Dunbar a few minutes behind where they existed at the moment. It no longer mattered what he heard because he already knew what was said.