The Hades Installation
By Marauder
1 : Introduction
Another boring day in another boring week in another boring year of a goddamn boring life... Priss Jenkins pried open her sleep-clotted eyes and sat up groggily. As she wiped her face to get at least a semblance of alertness, she wondered if this day would be worth getting up to or if she should just stay in bed. Ever since she had finished her educational career and moved out off her parents house, she had been doing the odd job here and there, barely able to afford the ridiculously high rent for this walk-in closet her landlord called an apartment. Yesterday she had quit the job in the paper factory after her boss started getting a little too close for comfort. Not that she couldn't understand his indiscretions - she was really cute, in a tomboyish sort of way. She kept her raven black hair cut short and preferred pants to skirts, sneakers to high heals for her slender, size six feet, and T-shirts to tank tops... Not because she was a lesbian, but because she preferred casual clothes over expensive stuff that served only to restrict her freedom of movement and attracted the wrong sort of attention anyway. She stood only 5'8'' tall, was slim almost to the point of being sinewy, but not quite so. Her bosom was small, but not flat, her behind petite, but not bony. Everything about her had a certain luscious firmness to it. In her icy blue eyes sparkled the fire of a headstrong character, even now that they were slightly dulled from sleep. Her lean face looked innocent enough, until she smiled. At that point it took on an impish quality that made most people take a step back in fear of what she might be up to. Priss was 26 years old now, and even though she had had her fair share of affairs, she was single to this day. She just wasn't made for this life, it seemed. She just preferred being by herself, outside of societies' rat race.
After forcing herself out of bed and under her claustrophobic shower, she began to feel more alive and at least able to tackle the monumental task of preparing breakfast. Which consisted of a lot of coffee and a few cigarettes. Well, she could still eat something after she had read the 'Help Wanted' section of the papers. Leafing through it, she decided against being a prostitute (yet again), and hairdresser or cashier at the supermarket didn't sound like heaven, either. Then her eyes that were skimming crosswise about the classifieds came to an abrupt halt on an add that seemed ... different. It read :
Are you ready to step out of everyday life ?
Ready to retreat from the life you are living now ?
Ready for a job that requires absolute security ?
If you are interested, call :
555-8461
Priss thought it over. The ad didn't mention a high pay, or anything about conditions, or anything at all about what kind of job this was anyway. But it was just this absence of any tangible information that chimed a bell somewhere inside her. She had always been the spontaneous, risk taking one. So she came to a decision that should change her life forever, and made the call.
2 : On the phone
'Hello ?'
'Hi ! My name is Priss Jenkins, I'm calling about the ad ?'
'Ben Ghelom. Are you serious about this ?'
'Well, I guess so. I mean, I don't really know anything about the job, so I can't say just how serious I am, right ?'
'Do not view it as a job, Priss Jenkins. View it as a commitment.'
'And what would you mean by that, Mr. ... Geelomm ?'
'Ghelom. I mean that this commitment will last for a long time, during which you will have no contact to outside civilization. Furthermore, you will be sworn to uphold secrecy about your activities. Your work assignment might well include sensitive issues that my and possibly you future employees can not afford to fall into the hands of outsiders.'
'Keen ! Is this sorta like that Biosphere project or some secret agent stuff or something ?'
'Close, but not quite, Priss Jenkins. I do not intend to disclose anything further about the commitment on the telephone. If you are interested, we will meet in person and discuss matters more in depth.'
'Hmm... I dunno. This is all weird. And would you stop calling me Priss Jenkins ? A simple Priss will be fine !'
'If that is your desire, Priss, then I shall henceforth address you thus. I assure you that by meeting me you will not commit yourself just yet. I merely want to assess you in person, so that we may find out if this... job... is fitting for you.'
'Well, Mr. Jelom...'
'Ghelom, Priss. It is pronounced Ghelom.'
'Fine, Mr. Ghelom. So, I'm game. Where do we meet ?'
'I am overjoyed, Priss. If you can arrange it, we will meet in the Maxime Hotel on 5th street.'
'Well. Great. And when would that be ?'
'Today, if that is acceptable to you. Can you manage to be there at four pm ?'
'Four pm ?!? That's just three hours from now ! Don't I have to bring anything like a picture or write anything about me or what ?'
'No, Priss. Since you will be there in person, I do not see what sense bringing a photograph would make. And this whole meeting is only necessary to evaluate your qualification for the... job... so we can well do without anything written about yourself..'
'Well, then it's no problem, I guess. I'm gonna be there, Mr. Ghelom.'
'I thank you, Priss. Please be punctual.'
3 : Meeting with a strange man
Priss hung up. That Ghelom guy sounded funny, way too educated to be a native english speaker. He had so carefully avoided an accent that it seemed comical. Well, it was time to plan things. She rummaged through her wardrobe, thinking about what kind of impression she would want to make. Something atypically sexy, maybe ? Or perhaps more in the direction of the working class style ? After almost thirty minutes, her squalid room was filled to the brim with the contents of her closet. 'Ah, what the hell...' she thought, 'if they want me, they better know me', and she just put on stuff she wore everyday. A frayed, stone washed jeans, a Ramones T-shirt and some sandals. It was way too hot outside for tennis shoes or socks, and she never wore nylons, so she slipped into the sandals barefoot. Her feet enjoyed their freedom, and she wriggled her slender, straight toes to make the sandals fit just right. After all these preparations, she went back into the kitchen, emptied her coffee and fixed herself some pasta. Then, she watched TV until it was time to leave.
She took the bus to the station on 5th, then walked the rest of the way to the Maxime. On the way, a small pebble got caught inside her right sandal, and she had to stop and remove it. Her feet were way too sensitive to tolerate it. That was why she never walked barefoot, she just couldn't stand the sensations. Especially when she walked across grass. As a child she had abhorred this because the leaves would tickle her so much.
When she entered the Maxime, she immediately recognized Mr. Ghelom. He was clad in a business suit, quite expensive, and had a completely neutral look on his clean shaven face. She guessed him to be in his forties, but he was in good shape for his age. His hair war a darkish blond, with a little gray at the temples. His eyes were gray as well, and were right now fixed on her as she stood inside the lobby just behind the doors. He radiated an air of irritation. 'You are late, Priss', he said in a gravely tone. Priss looked at her wristwatch. It was four fifteen. 'Well, sorry, Mr. Ghelom. The bus...' 'No apologies, Priss. I am certain that latency will not be an issue in the future.' 'Well, I'm sure glad you aren't mad about it...' 'No, I am not. Shall we retire to a room to discuss matters further ?'
Priss stopped dead in her tracks. 'Hey Mr., if you actually think you can just take me to your room...' 'No, Priss. You have misunderstood. I have no intention of courting you. Nor do I crave you in my private accommodations. I merely wish to suggest we take seating in a separate room in the bar, so that we might discuss matters without any unwanted outsiders within hearing range. You will have the opportunity to leave at any time.'
That comment made Priss relax. 'Okay, what are we waiting for then ?'
They walked toward the bar. Strangely, the hotel was almost empty. Only the employees were present. A bored looking barkeeper leaned behind his counter, absentmindedly sorting some bottles. In front of the counter, a single patron was nursing some steaming hot liquid, probably coffee. On the wall opposite the bar counter were several booth-like rooms, with curtains separating them from the main hall. Ghelom and Priss entered one of them and sat down. The barkeeper made as if to walk over to them, but Ghelom only waved and he slumped back against his counter. Ghelom drew the curtains shut.
'Well, you gonna tell me what kinda job this is now ?' Priss asked. 'Certainly. Of course, until you have agreed to accept it, I can still not provide you with exact details, so that security may be preserved. However, I shall now answer any questions you may have, as long as they do not compromise the secrecy I have been sworn to.'
Priss considered for a moment. 'Well, what did you mean by me being isolated from society for a long time ? How isolated and how long ?' 'You will not engage any contacts to the outside world during the course of your assignment. You may choose to fraternize with your co-workers or engage in any sort of social interaction with them, but you may not leave the facility. The minimum time of a work assignment in our organization is four years.'
'That's a long time...' Priss thought it over. She didn't have any contacts right now anyway, and she really could stand a timeout. But then again... 'What if I get bored ? Or if I want to quit ?' 'I am afraid that aborting the contract is not an option, Priss. When you sign it, you are bound to stay in our employ for at least the minimum time. Concerning your hypothetical boredom, I can assure you that we have a large amount of entertainment available at the facility, ranging from cable television through computers to books and many more. We even have a heated pool and a movie theater.' 'Well... I need to know what sort of work this is going to be. I wouldn't want to sign anything that binds me for such a long time without knowing anything about what it means.' 'Quite reasonable. The assignment consists mainly of a kind of guard duty. You would be well advised to imagine a conglomerate of a nurse and a night watch employee when you try to visualize your assignment.'
'That sounds cool to me...' It rather sounded a little weird, but suddenly Priss smiled, and threw overboard all reservations. This just might be it, the job she had been looking for all her life. So if she threw it away now, it might never come back. And after all, what fun was there in life without any risk ? 'Okay, man, if the pay is alright and you still want me, you can count me in !'
'I am overjoyed to hear that, Priss. Yes, we still wish to employ you. And the pay is six thousand dollars per month, in addition to free room, entertainment and provisions, and bonus payment for late time assignments.'
Priss couldn't believe her ears. 'Cool ! Where do I sign ?' 'Come to the airfield tomorrow at eight pm. I advice you to take care of your belongings for the time being, as you will be away for a long period. If you have any trouble dealing with real estate, I can provide you with the address of a very reliable broker.'
'Nah, that won't be necessary. I can take care of it. But could you forward me some cash ? I'm gonna need to buy stuff and pay my landlord...' 'No trouble at all, Priss.' Ghelom handed her an envelope he took from inside his jacket. 'I am sure this will cover your needs. It will be deducted from your pay, of course.' 'Sure thing...' Priss tore open the envelope. Inside were three thousand dollar bills. 'Wow ! Cool ! How do you know I won't just take this and leave ?' 'We trust you, Priss. I will have to go now. Be punctual tomorrow.' 'I sure as hell will ! See ya, Mr. Ghelom !' Priss smiled her impish smile as Ghelom stood up to leave. It had no effect on him.
4 : Airborne
Priss took care of things. She quit her rent contract, paying her landlord in advance for three months so he wouldn't ask any questions, and packed up. She cancelled any accounts she had and took care that nothing would be amiss for the next four years, or ever, if she considered it. Then, she got ready to leave, taking the bus to the airport. She had put on the same outfit as yesterday, because she had forgotten to leave anything out for the next day and all her stuff was now packed into suitcases that came close exploding. She reached the airport on time, and was quite proud of herself. Ghelom awaited her in the meeting hall. 'I see you are on time, Priss. Please follow me, we shall take a Lear Jet to our destination.'
As they went through first the hall, then a long row of corridors blissfully empty of the crowds usually found in airports, Priss could just about restrain herself from hopping up and down with joy. A Lear Jet ! This was too cool to be true ! They left the corridors after what seemed like miles of anonymous hallways and entered the airfield, a long way off from the commercial flights. Just before them stood their transport : An ivory colored Lear Jet, looking possibly more expensive then it was. The integrated stairway had been extended, and Priss could see the luxurious interior, which was held in fresh, bright colors. Very plush. They entered the machine and took seat on a table in the passenger cabin, which looked more like the lobby of a luxury hotel than the interior of an airplane.
Mr. Ghelom's voice pulled Priss' attention away from the obvious displays of wealth surrounding her. 'If you would consider filling out your contract now, Priss ?' She looked down. On the table before her was a thick binder full of forms. 'Oh man, where do I sign this ?!?' she exclaimed. 'Priss, you really should read it first. It contains in-depth information about your assignment.' Priss sighed and started to read. She didn't even make the first page when the Jet started to move. As it took off, she had just cleared page three. It took her the entire flight to read halfway through the document, and afterwards she was none the wiser. This stuff was written in such a crooked way that it could mean anything. 'We will be landing soon, Priss.' Ghelom reminded her. 'Listen, man, you just tell me where to sign and I will, okay ? I don't wanna read all this !' 'If you wish... Sign...', Ghelom started leafing through the pages, '...here.' She did just as the jet touched down. Ghelom took the binder and placed it in a briefcase standing beside him. 'Welcome to the facility. I will remain on board, if you do not mind. There are things I must attend to elsewhere. As you enter, you will meet your direct superior, Mr. Mel Kensington. He will explain further.' Priss looked out of the window. They were in the middle of some desert. The Jet had landed on a well maintained, but small runway beside a bunker-like building. 'In there ?!? That's gotta be a joke !' 'Priss, the facility is subterranean. That is just the entryway. Please go now.'
Priss left the Jet and began walking towards the building, periodically looking over her shoulder, until the Jet turned about and began picking up speed, to take off as it reached the far end of the runway. Ghelom had not even said goodbye, so she hadn't either. She reached the building, hearing the dull roar of huge air vents. A door opened. She entered.
By Marauder
1 : Introduction
Another boring day in another boring week in another boring year of a goddamn boring life... Priss Jenkins pried open her sleep-clotted eyes and sat up groggily. As she wiped her face to get at least a semblance of alertness, she wondered if this day would be worth getting up to or if she should just stay in bed. Ever since she had finished her educational career and moved out off her parents house, she had been doing the odd job here and there, barely able to afford the ridiculously high rent for this walk-in closet her landlord called an apartment. Yesterday she had quit the job in the paper factory after her boss started getting a little too close for comfort. Not that she couldn't understand his indiscretions - she was really cute, in a tomboyish sort of way. She kept her raven black hair cut short and preferred pants to skirts, sneakers to high heals for her slender, size six feet, and T-shirts to tank tops... Not because she was a lesbian, but because she preferred casual clothes over expensive stuff that served only to restrict her freedom of movement and attracted the wrong sort of attention anyway. She stood only 5'8'' tall, was slim almost to the point of being sinewy, but not quite so. Her bosom was small, but not flat, her behind petite, but not bony. Everything about her had a certain luscious firmness to it. In her icy blue eyes sparkled the fire of a headstrong character, even now that they were slightly dulled from sleep. Her lean face looked innocent enough, until she smiled. At that point it took on an impish quality that made most people take a step back in fear of what she might be up to. Priss was 26 years old now, and even though she had had her fair share of affairs, she was single to this day. She just wasn't made for this life, it seemed. She just preferred being by herself, outside of societies' rat race.
After forcing herself out of bed and under her claustrophobic shower, she began to feel more alive and at least able to tackle the monumental task of preparing breakfast. Which consisted of a lot of coffee and a few cigarettes. Well, she could still eat something after she had read the 'Help Wanted' section of the papers. Leafing through it, she decided against being a prostitute (yet again), and hairdresser or cashier at the supermarket didn't sound like heaven, either. Then her eyes that were skimming crosswise about the classifieds came to an abrupt halt on an add that seemed ... different. It read :
Are you ready to step out of everyday life ?
Ready to retreat from the life you are living now ?
Ready for a job that requires absolute security ?
If you are interested, call :
555-8461
Priss thought it over. The ad didn't mention a high pay, or anything about conditions, or anything at all about what kind of job this was anyway. But it was just this absence of any tangible information that chimed a bell somewhere inside her. She had always been the spontaneous, risk taking one. So she came to a decision that should change her life forever, and made the call.
2 : On the phone
'Hello ?'
'Hi ! My name is Priss Jenkins, I'm calling about the ad ?'
'Ben Ghelom. Are you serious about this ?'
'Well, I guess so. I mean, I don't really know anything about the job, so I can't say just how serious I am, right ?'
'Do not view it as a job, Priss Jenkins. View it as a commitment.'
'And what would you mean by that, Mr. ... Geelomm ?'
'Ghelom. I mean that this commitment will last for a long time, during which you will have no contact to outside civilization. Furthermore, you will be sworn to uphold secrecy about your activities. Your work assignment might well include sensitive issues that my and possibly you future employees can not afford to fall into the hands of outsiders.'
'Keen ! Is this sorta like that Biosphere project or some secret agent stuff or something ?'
'Close, but not quite, Priss Jenkins. I do not intend to disclose anything further about the commitment on the telephone. If you are interested, we will meet in person and discuss matters more in depth.'
'Hmm... I dunno. This is all weird. And would you stop calling me Priss Jenkins ? A simple Priss will be fine !'
'If that is your desire, Priss, then I shall henceforth address you thus. I assure you that by meeting me you will not commit yourself just yet. I merely want to assess you in person, so that we may find out if this... job... is fitting for you.'
'Well, Mr. Jelom...'
'Ghelom, Priss. It is pronounced Ghelom.'
'Fine, Mr. Ghelom. So, I'm game. Where do we meet ?'
'I am overjoyed, Priss. If you can arrange it, we will meet in the Maxime Hotel on 5th street.'
'Well. Great. And when would that be ?'
'Today, if that is acceptable to you. Can you manage to be there at four pm ?'
'Four pm ?!? That's just three hours from now ! Don't I have to bring anything like a picture or write anything about me or what ?'
'No, Priss. Since you will be there in person, I do not see what sense bringing a photograph would make. And this whole meeting is only necessary to evaluate your qualification for the... job... so we can well do without anything written about yourself..'
'Well, then it's no problem, I guess. I'm gonna be there, Mr. Ghelom.'
'I thank you, Priss. Please be punctual.'
3 : Meeting with a strange man
Priss hung up. That Ghelom guy sounded funny, way too educated to be a native english speaker. He had so carefully avoided an accent that it seemed comical. Well, it was time to plan things. She rummaged through her wardrobe, thinking about what kind of impression she would want to make. Something atypically sexy, maybe ? Or perhaps more in the direction of the working class style ? After almost thirty minutes, her squalid room was filled to the brim with the contents of her closet. 'Ah, what the hell...' she thought, 'if they want me, they better know me', and she just put on stuff she wore everyday. A frayed, stone washed jeans, a Ramones T-shirt and some sandals. It was way too hot outside for tennis shoes or socks, and she never wore nylons, so she slipped into the sandals barefoot. Her feet enjoyed their freedom, and she wriggled her slender, straight toes to make the sandals fit just right. After all these preparations, she went back into the kitchen, emptied her coffee and fixed herself some pasta. Then, she watched TV until it was time to leave.
She took the bus to the station on 5th, then walked the rest of the way to the Maxime. On the way, a small pebble got caught inside her right sandal, and she had to stop and remove it. Her feet were way too sensitive to tolerate it. That was why she never walked barefoot, she just couldn't stand the sensations. Especially when she walked across grass. As a child she had abhorred this because the leaves would tickle her so much.
When she entered the Maxime, she immediately recognized Mr. Ghelom. He was clad in a business suit, quite expensive, and had a completely neutral look on his clean shaven face. She guessed him to be in his forties, but he was in good shape for his age. His hair war a darkish blond, with a little gray at the temples. His eyes were gray as well, and were right now fixed on her as she stood inside the lobby just behind the doors. He radiated an air of irritation. 'You are late, Priss', he said in a gravely tone. Priss looked at her wristwatch. It was four fifteen. 'Well, sorry, Mr. Ghelom. The bus...' 'No apologies, Priss. I am certain that latency will not be an issue in the future.' 'Well, I'm sure glad you aren't mad about it...' 'No, I am not. Shall we retire to a room to discuss matters further ?'
Priss stopped dead in her tracks. 'Hey Mr., if you actually think you can just take me to your room...' 'No, Priss. You have misunderstood. I have no intention of courting you. Nor do I crave you in my private accommodations. I merely wish to suggest we take seating in a separate room in the bar, so that we might discuss matters without any unwanted outsiders within hearing range. You will have the opportunity to leave at any time.'
That comment made Priss relax. 'Okay, what are we waiting for then ?'
They walked toward the bar. Strangely, the hotel was almost empty. Only the employees were present. A bored looking barkeeper leaned behind his counter, absentmindedly sorting some bottles. In front of the counter, a single patron was nursing some steaming hot liquid, probably coffee. On the wall opposite the bar counter were several booth-like rooms, with curtains separating them from the main hall. Ghelom and Priss entered one of them and sat down. The barkeeper made as if to walk over to them, but Ghelom only waved and he slumped back against his counter. Ghelom drew the curtains shut.
'Well, you gonna tell me what kinda job this is now ?' Priss asked. 'Certainly. Of course, until you have agreed to accept it, I can still not provide you with exact details, so that security may be preserved. However, I shall now answer any questions you may have, as long as they do not compromise the secrecy I have been sworn to.'
Priss considered for a moment. 'Well, what did you mean by me being isolated from society for a long time ? How isolated and how long ?' 'You will not engage any contacts to the outside world during the course of your assignment. You may choose to fraternize with your co-workers or engage in any sort of social interaction with them, but you may not leave the facility. The minimum time of a work assignment in our organization is four years.'
'That's a long time...' Priss thought it over. She didn't have any contacts right now anyway, and she really could stand a timeout. But then again... 'What if I get bored ? Or if I want to quit ?' 'I am afraid that aborting the contract is not an option, Priss. When you sign it, you are bound to stay in our employ for at least the minimum time. Concerning your hypothetical boredom, I can assure you that we have a large amount of entertainment available at the facility, ranging from cable television through computers to books and many more. We even have a heated pool and a movie theater.' 'Well... I need to know what sort of work this is going to be. I wouldn't want to sign anything that binds me for such a long time without knowing anything about what it means.' 'Quite reasonable. The assignment consists mainly of a kind of guard duty. You would be well advised to imagine a conglomerate of a nurse and a night watch employee when you try to visualize your assignment.'
'That sounds cool to me...' It rather sounded a little weird, but suddenly Priss smiled, and threw overboard all reservations. This just might be it, the job she had been looking for all her life. So if she threw it away now, it might never come back. And after all, what fun was there in life without any risk ? 'Okay, man, if the pay is alright and you still want me, you can count me in !'
'I am overjoyed to hear that, Priss. Yes, we still wish to employ you. And the pay is six thousand dollars per month, in addition to free room, entertainment and provisions, and bonus payment for late time assignments.'
Priss couldn't believe her ears. 'Cool ! Where do I sign ?' 'Come to the airfield tomorrow at eight pm. I advice you to take care of your belongings for the time being, as you will be away for a long period. If you have any trouble dealing with real estate, I can provide you with the address of a very reliable broker.'
'Nah, that won't be necessary. I can take care of it. But could you forward me some cash ? I'm gonna need to buy stuff and pay my landlord...' 'No trouble at all, Priss.' Ghelom handed her an envelope he took from inside his jacket. 'I am sure this will cover your needs. It will be deducted from your pay, of course.' 'Sure thing...' Priss tore open the envelope. Inside were three thousand dollar bills. 'Wow ! Cool ! How do you know I won't just take this and leave ?' 'We trust you, Priss. I will have to go now. Be punctual tomorrow.' 'I sure as hell will ! See ya, Mr. Ghelom !' Priss smiled her impish smile as Ghelom stood up to leave. It had no effect on him.
4 : Airborne
Priss took care of things. She quit her rent contract, paying her landlord in advance for three months so he wouldn't ask any questions, and packed up. She cancelled any accounts she had and took care that nothing would be amiss for the next four years, or ever, if she considered it. Then, she got ready to leave, taking the bus to the airport. She had put on the same outfit as yesterday, because she had forgotten to leave anything out for the next day and all her stuff was now packed into suitcases that came close exploding. She reached the airport on time, and was quite proud of herself. Ghelom awaited her in the meeting hall. 'I see you are on time, Priss. Please follow me, we shall take a Lear Jet to our destination.'
As they went through first the hall, then a long row of corridors blissfully empty of the crowds usually found in airports, Priss could just about restrain herself from hopping up and down with joy. A Lear Jet ! This was too cool to be true ! They left the corridors after what seemed like miles of anonymous hallways and entered the airfield, a long way off from the commercial flights. Just before them stood their transport : An ivory colored Lear Jet, looking possibly more expensive then it was. The integrated stairway had been extended, and Priss could see the luxurious interior, which was held in fresh, bright colors. Very plush. They entered the machine and took seat on a table in the passenger cabin, which looked more like the lobby of a luxury hotel than the interior of an airplane.
Mr. Ghelom's voice pulled Priss' attention away from the obvious displays of wealth surrounding her. 'If you would consider filling out your contract now, Priss ?' She looked down. On the table before her was a thick binder full of forms. 'Oh man, where do I sign this ?!?' she exclaimed. 'Priss, you really should read it first. It contains in-depth information about your assignment.' Priss sighed and started to read. She didn't even make the first page when the Jet started to move. As it took off, she had just cleared page three. It took her the entire flight to read halfway through the document, and afterwards she was none the wiser. This stuff was written in such a crooked way that it could mean anything. 'We will be landing soon, Priss.' Ghelom reminded her. 'Listen, man, you just tell me where to sign and I will, okay ? I don't wanna read all this !' 'If you wish... Sign...', Ghelom started leafing through the pages, '...here.' She did just as the jet touched down. Ghelom took the binder and placed it in a briefcase standing beside him. 'Welcome to the facility. I will remain on board, if you do not mind. There are things I must attend to elsewhere. As you enter, you will meet your direct superior, Mr. Mel Kensington. He will explain further.' Priss looked out of the window. They were in the middle of some desert. The Jet had landed on a well maintained, but small runway beside a bunker-like building. 'In there ?!? That's gotta be a joke !' 'Priss, the facility is subterranean. That is just the entryway. Please go now.'
Priss left the Jet and began walking towards the building, periodically looking over her shoulder, until the Jet turned about and began picking up speed, to take off as it reached the far end of the runway. Ghelom had not even said goodbye, so she hadn't either. She reached the building, hearing the dull roar of huge air vents. A door opened. She entered.