"The datastream’s been disrupted!" the woman’s voice said. "The system is crashing." A cool shower of static poured over Babel’s sensorium, washing away the pain and the blood, leaving only a slight aching and fatigue behind. His vision cleared and he was still strapped into the same chair, but the bright light was gone and he could see the plain gray walls of the room. An Hispanic woman gently pulled the plug from the jack behind Babel’s ear while looking askance from him to the snowy display screens as if she didn’t believe her own eyes. A gentle beat filled the air, and Babel turned his head to see a man slowly clapping, like mocking applause, and he knew it was the shadow man from his vision.