"Briefing wing," he whispers back. "This is where Manticore gets its PowerPoint on. Hallway's just over here."
He tugs her toward a side door, and punches in a code on the lock device. It clicks softly and he pushes out, revealing a narrow, nondescript corridor under harsh fluorescent lights. He glances back at Parker, the smirk already there. "Sorry it's not more sinister; we save that for later on in the tour."
"I was kind of expecting balls and chains and racks and stuff like that."
Parker's only half joking.
She peers out into the corridor. "Still, it looks very Sterile Corporate. Which is kind of scary."
She grins at 494 though. She's not so much 'scared' as experiencing a moderate adrenaline high.
Parker straightens her jacket. "You're sure I'm going to blend?" she asks.
They had decided that there was no way Parker could really pass as an X5--not if they were stopped. So tonight she is playing the role of a field operative--dark nondescript pants and jacket, white blouse, and shoes she can safely run in if she needs to.
Parker is adventurous, not reckless. She wouldn't be doing this if she didn't trust 494 one-hundred percent.
She matches her pace with his, walking confidently. Blend in--look like you have every right to be here. She even smiles and nods at a middle-aged man in a suit; he returns the gesture.
His eyes flick sideways at her. "Agent Lee." He keeps his face schooled as he gestures for her to keep walking, but his eyes are a warning: Don't smile at people.
Other Manticore personnel glance their way from time to time. A few other X-series are mixing with the ordinaries, but for the most part it's administrative and medical staff going about their business. The X5s stand out, though: the perfect physicality, no matter what the size, gives them away.
A set of double doors toward another wing comes up; 494 holds them open. Observation the sign overhead reads. 494 flashes a clearance badge and the guard nods at them to keep moving.
Parker quickly schools her expression to one that is purely businesslike. Not surprising that Manticore wouldn't be much about workplace comaraderie.
She walks along beside 494 through the other personnel. It would be weird coming in from her world, but it's surreal given than she is coming, essentially, from Ambergeldar.
World-jumping can be a bit jarring.
Parker walks through the doors with 494 (not even glancing at the guard this time). She wonders what, exactly, gets observed here.
It's not just that -- nobody should be able to remember her. 494 doesn't anticipate questions later, but he'd rather be safe than sorry, because sorry at Manticore really, really sucks.
The hallways are more spacious here, and every several dozen feet are huge windows which, on closer examination, turn out to be two-way mirrors. 494 slows a little. "Ah, nostalgia," he sighs as they pass the young X7s in their various classes.
Parker has been doing her best not to look overly interested in anything they've passed so far. If she works here, then she would be used to all of this. Plus Manticore would have sucked out her personality the minute her tax paperwork was filled out.
But at the sight of the kids in the classrooms, she involuntarily slows down, looking in at them.
"Is this where you went to school? Or...you know," she asks quietly (though there doesn't seem to be anyone nearby to hear).
She's interested. He knew she'd be interested. He'd be lying if he hadn't thought of that while planning their route. He stops and tilts his head, watching them all in lines in their tables.
"Nah, I grew up at the Wyoming facility, which they shut down after the Pulse. It was a lot more..." He squints, searching for the right word. "Utilitarian, let's put it that way. I mean, the second half of the formative years were here and all, but not really in this wing."
She knows her frame of reference is very different. School for her had meant cubbies and bright bulletin boards and little laminated behavior charts with star stickers.
Parker looks at the kids, sitting straight and alert at their desks in the sterile classroom. There doesn't seem to be even so much as a splash of color.
She reluctantly moves away from the window. It's probably not a good idea to linger too long.
"So, where were you when you were moved here? If you weren't in this wing?"
He bows his head and chuckles. "The answer may surprise you! Each series tends to stick together -- X5, X6, X7 -- but the bigger guys look out for the younger ones. We're the officers, after all." Not that he had that. They were first -- or, well, the first functioning ones. The rest were locked in the basement, and with good reason. 494 cocks an eyebrow sideways. "Why, is that how it works where you are?"
"As far as genetically engineered products, we are." Who's a chipper, cynical boy? "There's a whole cast of characters I'm trying to steer us away from. You really don't want to tangle with the actual military in this place."
"Where are we, anyway?" she whispers.
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He tugs her toward a side door, and punches in a code on the lock device. It clicks softly and he pushes out, revealing a narrow, nondescript corridor under harsh fluorescent lights. He glances back at Parker, the smirk already there. "Sorry it's not more sinister; we save that for later on in the tour."
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Parker's only half joking.
She peers out into the corridor. "Still, it looks very Sterile Corporate. Which is kind of scary."
She grins at 494 though. She's not so much 'scared' as experiencing a moderate adrenaline high.
Parker straightens her jacket. "You're sure I'm going to blend?" she asks.
They had decided that there was no way Parker could really pass as an X5--not if they were stopped. So tonight she is playing the role of a field operative--dark nondescript pants and jacket, white blouse, and shoes she can safely run in if she needs to.
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Not that he has any doubts, except, of course, why Parker would have such complete faith in him, but hey, maybe they put something in the Oreos.
He keeps his pace brisk and official. There's no one in this hallway, but figures in lab coats and business suits are passing by at the next junction.
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Parker is adventurous, not reckless. She wouldn't be doing this if she didn't trust 494 one-hundred percent.
She matches her pace with his, walking confidently. Blend in--look like you have every right to be here. She even smiles and nods at a middle-aged man in a suit; he returns the gesture.
Reply
Other Manticore personnel glance their way from time to time. A few other X-series are mixing with the ordinaries, but for the most part it's administrative and medical staff going about their business. The X5s stand out, though: the perfect physicality, no matter what the size, gives them away.
A set of double doors toward another wing comes up; 494 holds them open. Observation the sign overhead reads. 494 flashes a clearance badge and the guard nods at them to keep moving.
Reply
She walks along beside 494 through the other personnel. It would be weird coming in from her world, but it's surreal given than she is coming, essentially, from Ambergeldar.
World-jumping can be a bit jarring.
Parker walks through the doors with 494 (not even glancing at the guard this time). She wonders what, exactly, gets observed here.
Reply
The hallways are more spacious here, and every several dozen feet are huge windows which, on closer examination, turn out to be two-way mirrors. 494 slows a little. "Ah, nostalgia," he sighs as they pass the young X7s in their various classes.
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But at the sight of the kids in the classrooms, she involuntarily slows down, looking in at them.
"Is this where you went to school? Or...you know," she asks quietly (though there doesn't seem to be anyone nearby to hear).
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"Nah, I grew up at the Wyoming facility, which they shut down after the Pulse. It was a lot more..." He squints, searching for the right word. "Utilitarian, let's put it that way. I mean, the second half of the formative years were here and all, but not really in this wing."
Parker doesn't want to see that wing. Really.
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"More utilitarian than this?"
She knows her frame of reference is very different. School for her had meant cubbies and bright bulletin boards and little laminated behavior charts with star stickers.
Parker looks at the kids, sitting straight and alert at their desks in the sterile classroom. There doesn't seem to be even so much as a splash of color.
She reluctantly moves away from the window. It's probably not a good idea to linger too long.
"So, where were you when you were moved here? If you weren't in this wing?"
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"We should stay moving. They don't tend to film this corridor too closely, but, you know, can't be too safe."
This hall is way longer than he remembers. Maybe that's because he never really looks at the mirrors when he's here.
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Parker resumes walking down the hall, with one glance back at the classroom.
"So, did they keep the teenagers away from the impressionable little ones?" she asks. "So that no one teaches them to smoke and cuss, or something?"
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Manticore isn't entirely dysfunctional. That's statistically impossible.
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Parker grins sidelong.
"So, you guys are at the top of the totem pole, huh?"
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