Machines are constantly humming--an eerie music. They are banshees crooning softly. The scanner buzzes like a chainsaw in its work. Light leaks out in a spray, showering the nearby computers with white.
Besides me, there is only one other living person in the lab. But I wonder if he is not just another machine--one with skin, hair, eyes, fingers--but a machine nonetheless, staring at the monitor in front of him, accessing the information as if they were ones and zeroes instead of words and pictures.
