Three drones hovered behind the Targets, of a model that didn’t match anything in my archives. They were round, as big around as my head, the apertures for cameras or weapons hidden despite their size. The stealth material interfered with my scan, but not with the image in the organic part of my brain. It gave me an uneasy kind of double vision, where my scan insisted there were floating anomalies that wouldn’t appear on my camera, yet I had a clear image in my temp data storage, supplied by my organic nerve tissue.