"Damn it," Anders said. He was certain that he was on the track of something big, perhaps something ultimate. "Everyone's had the experience. At some time in his life, everyone looks at a familiar object and can't make any sense out of it. Momentarily, the gestalt fails, but the true moment of sight passes. The mind reverts to the superimposed pattern. Normalcy continues."
The voice was silent. Anders walked on, through the gestalt city.
"There's something else, isn't there?" Anders asked.
"Yes."
What could that be, he asked himself. Through clearing eyes, Anders looked at the formality he had called his world.
He wondered momentarily if he would have come to this if the voice hadn't guided him. Yes, he decided after a few moments, it was inevitable.
But who was the voice? And what had he left out?
"Let's see what a party looks like now," he said to the voice.
The party was a masquerade; the guests were all wearing their faces. To Anders, their motives, individually and collectively, were painfully apparent. Then his vision began to clear further.