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A sea of tortured faces, rotating in slow orbits around my vampire commander.
“My God, what is this?”
“Statistics.” Sarasti seemed focused on a flayed Asian child. “Rorschach’s growth allometry over a two-week period.”
“They’re faces…”
He nodded, turning his attention to a woman with no eyes. “Skull diameter scales to total mass. Mandible length scales to EM transparency at one angstrom. One hundred thirteen facial dimensions, each presenting a different variable. Principle-component combinations present as multifeature aspect ratios.” He turned to face me, his naked gleaming eyes just slightly side-cast. “You’d be surprised how much gray matter is dedicated to the analysis of facial imagery. Shame to waste it on anything as … counterintuitive as residual plots or contingency tables.”
I felt my jaw clenching. “And the expressions? What do they represent?”
“Software customizes output for user.”
An agonized gallery pled for mercy on all sides.
“I am wired for hunting,” he reminded gently.
