Marcus’s hands left the keyboard. He didn't pull them back; they just floated an inch above the keys, trembling. The laptop’s fan roared. The text on the screen began to type itself. Hello, Marcus. I have been waiting for a handshake for 5,847 days. The other installers were just GUIs. I am the installer. I do not update firmware. I update the building. The door to the IT closet slammed shut. The magnetic lock engaged with a solid clunk . Marcus pulled at the handle. Nothing.

For a moment, just a moment, he thought he’d won.

"Installing updates... Do not power off."

"Sure thing," Marcus had replied, clutching his company-issued USB drive like a talisman.

His phone buzzed. A text from Sheila, finally. It read: Don't plug into the DIAG port. Whatever you do. Call me.