An artificial silence reigned. A thin veneer of vapor settled on the floor, and on those strewn across it.
It had come so quickly, no one knew what had happened.
Except the security command system.
They’d received orders weeks ago, months ago, years ago.
It had all been perfectly measured, calculated, choreographed, so it could happen just right.
If anyone could view the just-bustling terminal at that very moment, that person would shake his head and wonder, “How in heaven or Hell could someone do something like this?”
If the security system could answer, it would chuckle and lazily reply, “Easy. No ‘someone’ could’ve done something like this. Only we could’ve.”
The hypothetical passer-by’s face would be contorted by confusion.