A short corridor opened onto the cavernous plant’s floor, where the line broke left. To David, the atmosphere was more hive-like than industrial; both the overhead lighting and ambient noise level were muted. The line ahead followed the wall briefly and broke at intervals toward the center, flowing like cells through defined capillaries between glowing, pod-like modules. They reminded him of those upscale, outdoor tennis enclosures, except they were larger – maybe a football field – more rigid, and nearly transparent. The new arrivals queued briefly at entrances where they were scanned as they entered. Meanwhile, he could see others leaving the enclosures, streaming into a central aisle and joining in a single, orderly rivulet that emptied out the north end of the building. Shift change.

When the last drone ahead of him broke away, David marched stiffly the last 100 paces to the corner, crossing a track on which flatcars with hoists were mounted. He scaled a ladder that took him to a grid of open maintenance catwalks that crisscrossed the entire enclosure. Crouching, he made certain he was alone aloft; there was no evidence of external supervision or security of any kind. He made his way to the center. Eight pods, arranged in two long rows. Inside each, similar scenarios of assortment and assembly unfolded. Clean rooms. Arrays of electronics, solar panels, struts, and insulation told him that the products were most likely satellites. Beyond that, his background in software rather than hardware didn’t help him much.

As he lay there, suspended, the hum of ventilation and muffled activity almost hypnotized him. It stopped; in unison, so did the workers. They stood at attention until the first replacement came out of the corridor, then moved toward the pods’ exits. David scrambled back to the corner, down the ladder, and emerged from behind the flatcars just in time to join the center line.

They boarded the coaches in the dark. David concentrated hard on his emulations as he went. Inside, they passed the auto-console and took their seats in order, front to rear; there was just enough illumination above the aisle to keep him from revealing himself. Seeing the last seat filled – of course – he turned, braced his back against the rear bulkhead, and planted his feet. As they slid away, the low resolute whine of whatever propelled them was the only sound. The passengers sat stock-still, facing forward, hands relaxed in laps. Emboldened, David took a few steps and inspected some of them. They were definitely human, of different sizes, shapes, and colors. None was obese and, though it was hard to tell, at least two genders were represented.

The floor swayed gently. David recovered quickly from the centrifugal pull and made it back to the rear as the bus straightened and followed the others onto the 405. He saw the glare of LAX and the refinery to the left; to the northeast, there was no electric evidence of any kind of skyline. Moon and starlight were no help, either; gray abandonment was all there was. He guessed 20 minutes had passed when they descended to go west but couldn’t be certain, because he had no relative sense of speed.

Their destination was a long, low oblong building that was half strip-mall industrial and half agricultural – all function, no form, and windowless. David followed as the rest trooped inside, then hung back. His immediate impression was of an endless dental operatory without walls, replete with two rows of regimented beige recliners and matching equipment standing by. The drones divided into two columns and filed forward until each had reached and occupied a chair. In unison, what looked like the top half of a computerized axial tomography machine swung into place over each body and sprang to electronic life. Tendrils emerged from behind each headrest to free and extract each helmet.

David found what he guessed was the closest female and crept to her side. She lay there, hairless and motionless, her eyes closed. A plastic cone had descended itself over her nostrils and a tube pulsing with amber fluid had been snaked down her throat. The machine had unzipped her jumpsuit. Pulses of light swept over small terminals implanted on her alabaster skin. A strange appliance that resembled the floor tool for a vacuum cleaner lowered itself and crept toward her pubis. He caught his breath and watched her face. Almost imperceptibly, she shuddered and her lips parted slightly. The tremor caused her exposed breasts to quiver. Seeing her umber nipples tighten stirred David. He slid a hand behind her head, causing an arc that shocked him. His fingers found two quarter-sized electrodes at the base of her skull, above matching terminals imbedded in the headrest. Her eyes snapped open to reveal pupils that were fixed open and did not react to the light. Her eyes widened, straining blindly, and her limbs trembled. She tried to shriek.

Instinctively, David looked around. The bed closest to the door was abandoned. Just before he felt the prick of the needle in his neck, he saw a pleasant Asian face smiling at him.

“Fàngsóng, shúrén,” he cooed. “Fàngsóng.”*

David sensed a presence over him and came up swinging. The specter retreated.

“N’awsm!”

“Rehab?” David’s aching head brought clarity.

It was he. With his hood off, David saw steel plug earlets and a wisp of moustache. Combined with the glasses and his fine-boned features, his bald head made him even more alien-like. He motioned for David to rise. Staggering, he obliged, and looked at himself. The jumpsuit was gone, replaced by well-worn goldenrod sweats emblazoned with “L.A. Lakers” and down-at-the-heels vintage Air Jordans.

“Where am I? What is this place?”

“Orkle!” Rehab started to walk away, pointing.

“Man – can I get a sentence over here?”