Noah opened his eyes to a room bathed in the pale blue glow of multiple holographic displays. His mind was still foggy from sleep, but the familiar hum of electronic equipment told him one thing before he even sat up—Kelvin was already hard at work.
"Morning, sleeping beauty," Kelvin's cheerful voice broke through the quiet. He sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by at least six floating screens, his fingers dancing across virtual keyboards. "I was starting to think you might sleep through the entire finals."
Noah groaned and pushed himself upright, feeling a strange new lightness that swirled inside him. "What time is it?"
"Seven thirty-two and seventeen seconds," Kelvin replied without looking at a clock. "And before you ask, yes, I've been up all night. And no, I don't need sleep. Sleep is for the weak and the non-technopathic."
Noah rubbed his eyes. "You know that's not how biology works, right?"
