Rook had stopped looking like a man at a command station.
He stood with one shoulder braced against a physical release, his hand keeping it from returning along a travel the interface had tried to accelerate. The stop a technician had placed beside it carried part of the pressure. The rest showed in the trembling of his forearm and the angle at which he held his body. On the partial display above him, people moved through a corridor without names, reduced to positions the failing map could still detect.
Eli came by the protected edge.
“There is a way out,” he said.
Rook looked at him. “How many still inside?”
“Waiting on the human count. The manual route is working. The guards are withdrawing in pairs.”
“Then it isn’t clear.”
“It can take you.”
