"Let's see your back!" he rapped out, his voice high.
She sighed in exasperation. "If you'd read the literature ..." She swiveled her chair slowly.
"No wings," he said.
"Of course not!" she snapped. She brushed her hair away from her forehead without his telling her to. "No horns, either."
"Streamlined, huh?" he said bitterly.
"It's a little different for everybody," she said with unexpected gentleness. "It would have to be, wouldn't it?"
"Yeah, I guess so," he admitted slowly. Then he lost his momentary awe, and his posture grew tense again. He glanced down at his wrist. Six hours, forty-seven minutes, and no days to go.
"Who do I see?"
She stared at him, bewildered at the sudden change in his voice. "See?"
"About getting out of here! Come on, come on," he barked, snapping his fingers impatiently. "I haven't got much time."