The ticking of cogs in a larger machine

[jla-futures.livejournal.com]

When the white light fades away, the abductees find themselves in a markedly artificial environment. Instead of a patchwork of different natural terrains, each individual is in an office cubicle. Within the brown fabric walls is a chair and a desk, and on each desk is a large screen, rather like the touch-sensitive monitors used in certain office environments or tourist kiosks.

There is Muzak playing overhead, a familiar tune turned bland and boring. Somewhere, Louis Armstrong is rolling in his grave.