The machine hummed for a moment, then whined sharply.

The machine thought for a moment, then whined faintly.

The ecotech pressed a few buttons, lights lit, and the machine whined and hissed and grunted with a demure even rhythm that suggested normal operation.

While her machine whined and clunked, she took copies of photos confiscated from Personally Yours and, rising, fixed them to a board over her desk.

And the six smaller machines, which Arcot had succeeded in interconnecting with the protonic generator, were whining too.

The machine whined, a sound she hadn't heard it make before, and it took a few seconds for her to realize what the mechanical drone meant: the wine container was empty.

Lazarus punched in the setting; the machine chattered and whined as it scanned and rejected the track speeding through it, then it slowed with a triumphant click.

A squat machine whined in one corner, dehumidifying and cooling the air.

The machine whined back to life, and she peered upward into the shimmering disk.