Preston could feel a migraine coming. At his console, he was rubbing his temples and watching Bly caper around the concrete wreckage. Oh God.
He sat up straight at the hesitant tone in Bly's voice. The 9000 wheeled a little to one side, as if to see Preston's eyes through the cameras--or avoid getting drawn into the conversation. "You hacked the entry devices and security programs?" Preston repeated, disbelieving.