Pitch darkness would have characterized the room if not for the marvelous computer arrangement. Little More than a crooked series of seats, wires, and converted toasters.

Crammed between the hardware of the dark tent sat an inconspicuous woman glued to her black, vintage monitor. Another stranger whose red hair gleamed under green glass, absorbed in her computational task. The sound of tapping keys persisted elsewhere, steering Jessica to a black-haired boy in a beanie. Perhaps no ...