2013/10. The Special Collection
Warehouse 13/Assassin's Creed
FR-T
Artie arrived quickly enough that Myka suspected an artifact might be involved. While he had made it clear that he didn't approve of the use of artifacts, there seemed to be a great gulf between the degree to which he held his agents to that standard and that to which he held himself. Myka waved as Artie entered, but Pete didn't, as he was occupied holding the lid of the trashcan closed.
"You said you had a problem with an artifact?" Artie noted, and as if on cue the trashcan juddered.
"It's not reacting well to the neutralizer," Pete explained. "In fact it doesn't seem to want to be neutralized." The can jumped again. "At all."
"Have you tried using more neutralizer?"
"Yes," Myka assured him. "In fact we used all of it."
"All of... Your whole supply?"
"Yes."
"Your whole year's supply?"
"Yes! But I wouldn't worry, because it seems to be defective."
"Let me see." Artie crossed to the trashcan and waved Pete away. Pete looked skeptical, but Artie waved again and Pete slowly, warily lifted the lid of the trashcan. The neutralizer inside made a bubbling sound and ejected the artifact, which Artie caught with apparent ease.
The object was a golden sphere, just large enough to sit in the palm of Artie's hand, its surface broken by a pattern of fine, precise lines. "Oh," Artie said. "Oh, yes; these ones don't like the gel."
"They're a special kind of artifact?" Myka asked.
"Technically they're not artifacts at all, although things around them often become so. This is... something else." He put the item in his pocket and turned to go. "This is one for the... special collection."
"The... special collection?" Pete echoed. "I don't like that elipsis. I also don't like finding new parts of the Warehouse; it never ends well."
"A warehouse created to hold the most dangerous man-made objects in history and they're dangerous? Who would have thought it?" Artie chuckled. "But don't worry; someone else takes care of these little beauties. Not artifacts, not our problem."
"So where do they come from?" Myka asked.
Artie smiled softly. "Myka," he said, "you know how I can be... persistent sometimes; incautiously curious at others?"
"Yeah."
"Well... I don't want to know where these 'Apples' come from. I just pass them on and feel glad to avoid the carnage that they can bring, so... I feel a certain amount of haste might be in order."
"Right," Myka agreed.
As they left the room, Pete felt he had to ask: "Carnage?"
FR-T
Artie arrived quickly enough that Myka suspected an artifact might be involved. While he had made it clear that he didn't approve of the use of artifacts, there seemed to be a great gulf between the degree to which he held his agents to that standard and that to which he held himself. Myka waved as Artie entered, but Pete didn't, as he was occupied holding the lid of the trashcan closed.
"You said you had a problem with an artifact?" Artie noted, and as if on cue the trashcan juddered.
"It's not reacting well to the neutralizer," Pete explained. "In fact it doesn't seem to want to be neutralized." The can jumped again. "At all."
"Have you tried using more neutralizer?"
"Yes," Myka assured him. "In fact we used all of it."
"All of... Your whole supply?"
"Yes."
"Your whole year's supply?"
"Yes! But I wouldn't worry, because it seems to be defective."
"Let me see." Artie crossed to the trashcan and waved Pete away. Pete looked skeptical, but Artie waved again and Pete slowly, warily lifted the lid of the trashcan. The neutralizer inside made a bubbling sound and ejected the artifact, which Artie caught with apparent ease.
The object was a golden sphere, just large enough to sit in the palm of Artie's hand, its surface broken by a pattern of fine, precise lines. "Oh," Artie said. "Oh, yes; these ones don't like the gel."
"They're a special kind of artifact?" Myka asked.
"Technically they're not artifacts at all, although things around them often become so. This is... something else." He put the item in his pocket and turned to go. "This is one for the... special collection."
"The... special collection?" Pete echoed. "I don't like that elipsis. I also don't like finding new parts of the Warehouse; it never ends well."
"A warehouse created to hold the most dangerous man-made objects in history and they're dangerous? Who would have thought it?" Artie chuckled. "But don't worry; someone else takes care of these little beauties. Not artifacts, not our problem."
"So where do they come from?" Myka asked.
Artie smiled softly. "Myka," he said, "you know how I can be... persistent sometimes; incautiously curious at others?"
"Yeah."
"Well... I don't want to know where these 'Apples' come from. I just pass them on and feel glad to avoid the carnage that they can bring, so... I feel a certain amount of haste might be in order."
"Right," Myka agreed.
As they left the room, Pete felt he had to ask: "Carnage?"