Explore "The Man the Tech-Men Made" by Fox B. Holden on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The gently curved metal walls of the room gleamed softly in the pale, shadowless light, and for a moment the silent chamber seemed as huge and merciless as the infinity of Space which surrounded the great ship of which it was a part. The aged man who sat in full Alliance dress uniform before him, the Director Gentech himself, might for the moment have been a statue, and the panel of officers which flanked him hewn from the same stone.
He could feel the eyes of fully a third of the ship's huge complement, twelve hundred labortechs strong, boring steadily into his back as he stood, alone in the moment's awful silence, between them and these statue-men whose swift minds were, he knew, coldly weighing the accusations against him.