Plaything in one's palm
There were no buttons.
The descent was swift and silent, lasting longer than Lynn expected. They were going deep underground. When the doors slid open, Lynn’s breath caught in his throat.
They stepped out into a vast, circular chamber that looked like something from a science-fiction film. The room was bathed in the same cool blue light. The curved walls were composed of seamless, floor-to-ceiling screens, currently displaying a complex, three-dimensional global map dotted with countless pulsing lights and data streams. In the center of the room was a ring of minimalist workstations, each with multiple monitors. The air hummed with the low thrum of powerful servers. It was a command center,