MF1.0 - 23 - Elevator Action

‘Seven anti-meridian isn’t a time of day I like to acknowledge as existing,’ Stef said as she stared at Ryan. ‘My recruits have been up for an hour. Taylor’s have been training for two.’ She stared. She blinked. ‘That’s…evil.’ ‘Jones has finished analysing the data on your computer, and he needs a few things clarified.’ ‘Ok, sure.’ She looked down at herself. ‘You going to awesome me again?’ Ryan’s face, had it been an emoticon, was somewhere between “capital O, underscore, capital O” and “colon, forward slash”. ‘I…beg your pardon?’ She smirked. ‘Are you going to magic clothes onto me again, or can I have a minute to get dressed?’ ‘Ah.’ He closed his eyes, shook his head, and she felt fresh clothes appear on her body. ‘Not sure if I’ll ever get used to that.’ ‘If you don’t pass the tests today, you won’t have to worry about it.’ He said as he walked down the hall, she closed the door and quickly followed him. She could hear the voices of other humans – it wasn’t too much of leap to assume that shriek joking threats at the top of their squeaky girl lungs. ‘What tests?’ she asked as they stepped into the lift. ‘Wait. Question before that. Is this a magic lift?’ His face was a surprised emoticon again. ‘Last night and now, we only had to wait like five seconds for it, with all the buttons inside, there’s a low statistical probability that it was that close each time.’ He went very quiet, and just stared at her. For a moment, she wondered if he took lessons from a statue – no muscles in his face moved. It was then that it became evident that he didn’t breathe all the time. ‘That’s…a very astute observation, Miss Mimosa.’ This is going to happen sooner or later anyway. You really are an idiot aren’t you? ‘Yeah, well, they train us well.’ Three…two… Gun. There was the uncomfortable feeling of metal being pressed up against her skull and the sound of the safety being removed. The lift came to a halt and then there was just silence. ‘Are you waiting for me to say something?’ she asked after a moment. ‘You should choose your words very carefully.’ ‘You still think I’m a cultie.’ ‘You just admitted as much yourself.’ ‘No, I said something vaguely incriminating to see how you would react.’ He grabbed her shoulder, spun her and pushed her against the wall of the lift. ‘Dumb, I know, ok, geez…’ He stared at her. ‘Just because I notice things doesn’t mean I’ve been trained to look for them. I’m used to not living in the world, so when I venture outside my apartment, I take in all the data I can. My brain works different to normal, I think, I don’t feel. I notice, I don’t ignore.’ The gun retreated slightly. ‘What, exactly, can I do to prove…like big prove so I don’t have to worry about getting shot, that I’m not one of them?’ He pressed a hand to her forehead and she squirmed. She tried to move away, but the gun faded from his other hand and he held her still. ‘I can…’ ‘Get your hands off me.’ ‘Miss Mim…’ Hot sparks ran up and down her spine, his grip was unmovable and his expression stony. Screw it. She slapped him and pushed him away. It was a lift, there wasn’t exactly anywhere to go, but she retreated into the corner. She expected a shot. She expected to wake up in her bed with no memory of the last week or so. She expected to be swallowing river water. Nothing happened. After counting to twenty, slowly, in binary, she chanced looking up. What she hadn’t expected or calculated was a smile. An actual smile. Did our sanity count slip a few points? Checking…nope. Wow… ‘Consider me convinced, Miss Mimosa.’