In between meeting rooms and cubicles littered with old, junky pieces of circuitry, the halls are surprisingly clear, if dim. Some cubicles still have name tags on them, though the writing is mostly illegible by now.

A survey of cubicles won't reveal much usable -- old personal effects, scattered pens and screwdrivers, technology that won't power on and is either rusted out or simply bricked.

Except:

Clipped to one sagging cubicle wall is a dome about fist-sized, which whirs creakily at the first motion near it. A green button of a light flicks on. And, further down the hall in a cubicle not seen yet, something small starts to scrape and scuttle, metal against tile.