Shelf Patrol

I stalked along the wooden ledge of the shelf, zeroing in on a persistent mechanical hum in the dark. Lurking between the books was a black router, blinking its venomous green diodes like some miniature Metal Gear scout. My thumb edged the blade half an inch out of its sheath, ready to turn the noisy junk into scrap if it made a sudden move. The damn thing just sat there humming harmlessly. Lowering my guard just a fraction, I turned to the small potted succulent beside it. I rested my gauntlet against the cool ceramic pot. No rogue machines are wrecking this little patch of green on my watch.