The type on the paper wasn't standard. In fact, some of it didn't even seem to be ordinary letters, but some strange type of symbols. Others were almost ordinary.
Lin leaned forward cautiously in order to make out what was already typed. He saw only two words that were recognizable. One was force in the middle of the second line. The other was late in the line that had just been written.
It was a foreign language. Lin decided. But the two words he could recognize gave no clue to what language it might be.
The page was finished. The man's hand seized it and jerked it from the machine, dropping it into the flame in the wire wastebasket.
And from some automatic feed a new sheet came into view on the platen, and the man continued his typing, his fingers moving with great rapidity and without letup.
Lin straightened and stepped back a bit so as not to startle the man. He coughed loudly and said, "Hello, there."
The rhythm of the man's typing didn't vary. He gave no indication of having heard.
Slightly annoyed, Lin reached out and tapped him firmly on the shoulder. Still no result.
"Hey there!" Lin shouted, clamping fingers over the man's shoulders and starling to shake him. "Hey!" he started to say again, then his voice died away.