"I'm a biochemist, not an engineer! I have no idea what this machine even does!" She wanted to strangle him. Or at the very least slap him. If she didn't worry about damaging her own face, she might've done just that. Instead, she found herself approaching him (her?) in jerky, stilted steps, hoping that she wouldn't get so far ahead of herself that she'd crash into something.

"Your guess is as good as mine." The words still sounded rushed, and the accent sounded completely bizarre, but at least it was understandable. "Maybe if we just start pressing buttons..."