Gemotions

He had requested this transfer, but now, standing before the frosted glass doors of the “Advanced Analytics” division, Mark felt a cold wash of unease. He swallowed hard, adjusting his tie. The digital security system scanned his retina, and the doors slid open with a soft whoosh.

The atmosphere inside was hushed, almost monastic. Rows of computer monitors glowed in the semi-darkness. Every person seemed engrossed in their work, their faces illuminated by the pale light of the screens. He was greeted by a woman who spoke in a low, measured tone, introducing herself as his team lead. He felt the blood rush to his head and he stammered when he was invited to sit down.