MF1.0 - 21 - Night

Ryan looked at his potential recruit – his asleep potential recruit. Though he’d heard recruits say that Jones’ technological explanations put them to sleep, he’d never actually seen it.

It was quite impressive, one moment, she had been watching Jones manipulate the data, the next she was asleep, face down on the desk. It looked uncomfortable.

He reached forward and grabbed her shoulder to rouse her. She snorted as she woke, then froze in his grip. ‘Wake up, Miss Mimosa.’ She refused to move, so he loosed his grip.

She slowly sat up and turned to look at him. ‘Sorry. Tired.’

He nodded. ‘It’s understandable. Adrenalin takes a toll on body. If you follow me, you can sleep somewhere other than a table.’

‘Cell?’

‘Possibly.’

This earned him a shrug, but she stood and followed him. Back down the hall, back into the elevator and back out into the hall.

‘This looks like the floor we started on.’

‘It is.’

‘This is where the cells are?’

He stopped walking, but didn’t turn. ‘You haven’t done anything to earn me throwing you in a cell.’

‘Good.’

‘Yet,’ he added, then continued down the hall.

He came to a halt outside an empty recruit room. ‘The room, however, will be locked. There is no phone, no internet access and no window. You cannot break out through the door, nor the walls, there is no ventilation shaft and no drain. Do you understand?’

‘Yes.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘Should you pass the tests tomorrow, it will simply become your room. Any questions?’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">She looked around, then back at him. ‘Where’s room twelve?’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">It was a keen observation. The kind of thing a Solstice member was trained to look for. ‘It was dissolved due to an accident.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘What kind of accident?’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">He went with the cover story, it generally stopped further questions. ‘Nuclear.’ He wasn’t surprised to see her eyes light up at that. ‘Anything else?’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘Food? I assume you feed your not-prisoner-but-captive-since-I’m-in-your-custody-s?’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Not for the first, nor even fifth time, he was beginning to wonder whether or not recruitment was a good idea. Perhaps, relegating her to the tech division would be best – he doubted whether the impending tests would reveal any combat ability. That wasn’t a bad thing, they liked to place recruits where they would do the best work, and not put them in out of their depth where they could avoid it.

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘The room is fully stocked,’ he replied, then opened the door.

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">She stepped inside and regarded him stoically. ‘Night,’ she said evenly, then he shut the door. He didn’t even get half a metre away before furious knocking brought him back. He opened the door. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Thank you, for not shooting me, and for believing me. And…for whatever it was that you did when I was little, if it wasn’t kidnapping.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">He smiled. ‘You’re welcome.’ He closed the door, and waited for another summons, after a minute, he went back to Jones’ lab.

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘Conclusions?’ he asked.

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘About the mirrorfall, or the recruit?’ Jones asked, looking up from the girl’s computer.

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘About Miss Mimosa. What was the strike for?’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">Jones opened his mouth, closed it, deflated a little, then began to talk. ‘Sir, the data manipulation is very clean for someone who has supposedly had no contact with it before this. It’s rough, but it’s easily as good as some members of the Solstice. The timing is also very convenient.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘A plant?’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘Possible sir, I’m not very good at judging these things.’

<p style="color:rgb(189,190,190);font-family:Verdana,'CenturyGothic',Tahoma,sans-serif;line-height:normal;">‘Focus on the mirrorfall data.’ He looked to the gun in his holster. ‘If she become a problem, it’s an easy fix.’