[One quick, swift and subtle glance over Harrison's shoulder takes her gaze to a window, and beyond that to the soft, blue light of her machine. To that, she thinks: you little shit. It's not practical or reasonable to think the machine has a mind of its own, but she's starting to wonder. From the hiccups, to the people she's been interviewing (mostly useful and mostly inconvenient), it's hard to think of it as deliberate, in some way. Fuck time, honestly.

She slides her glasses back on, gaze back on Harrison. ] Dr. Wells, while I am inclined to agree, I'm afraid for now we lack the time for spontaneous reinvention. [A tight smile.] I will try to be quick. Answer as much or as little as you like; I only hope to find a common thread between worlds or persons. [Find out what this malfunction is looking for, specifically, and put an end to it.] What is your field, Dr. Wells? Perhaps we can put you to good use in keeping our population manageable.