Ivan Pritchard lay, apparently relaxed, in the AQRI. Sandoval and Nakamura hovered over the panel, ready to make any required adjustments. No one was entirely sure how the AQRI would handle an entirely metal subject. “I have to reduce saturation,” Sandoval said. “Can’t make out any detail in the glow.” In moments, the picture resolution improved. Narang stared, slack-jawed. A number of gasps behind her made it clear that all the doctors were watching. “What in the ninety-nine hells is that?” Sandoval pointed at a spot on the display.
Made me uncomfortable
