"LET'S HOPE no one shot themselves again," Bradley muttered as they raised their hands to their brows, dust from the sandy desert darting between the electric fence to spatter and crust along their eyes and cheeks. 

A crowd had congregated to view the helicopter; the exit had been opened for the pilot and the occupants, allowing easy access to the outside world. It usually wasn't so easy.

Lale took in a deep breath of sand and dust and fuel - it would be his last opportunity to do so for quite a while, he guessed, with the elevator being off-limits to them while unchaperoned, and armed guards standing vigilantly at the entrance to the facility. No going in. And definitely no going out.

Unless by flight, he noted as the rotors of the chopper slowed, and the whirlwind of sand ceased its slapping onto his uncovered skin. Amelia wiped her mouth beside him.

The Field Marshal and a few Lecturers appeared, squinting as they got used to the barrage of sunlight. "Everyone back inside!" Graham ordered, and his words left no room for argument.

Something big is happening, Lale realized, glancing back at the unmarked black hull of the helicopter. He didn't want to know what was watching him from behind the tinted windows - or who. 'Cause sometimes people were worse than monsters.

"Everything will be explained!" Graham bellowed, and the collection of people that amassed the entrance started to trickle back through the warehouse door and down the elevator, whose guards had temporarily abandoned their posts, judging by the way people could come up the elevator and outside the warehouse freely to watch the helicopter.

"Let's go the other way," Lale suggested, more to Bradley than anyone else, but Amelia, Tina, and Luca followed them, shambling along as their voices rose with speculations. It wasn't like Lale could tell them to shut up, because his mind was also flung with questions.

Not even the Quillans had arrived via chopper to the facility, else they would have heard their own aircraft bearing down on the warehouses. And if those guys weren't important in the eyes of the Heads, then where on the ladder did these people lie? Once more Lale was reminded - and disappointed - by the fact that he was one of the small fry in the Big Pool of PAST.

And he knew from experience as a little kid that the little fish got gobbled up - a traumatic experience for a seven-year-old.

They rounded the rusted edge of the warehouse, and the helicopter on the runaway vanished from view. Around the back of the building that led to the entrance of the ERAA secret bunker (because that's what it was) was a smaller metal hatch that Lale and Bradley hefted upwards, cringing at the whine of metal on metal, before setting it down.

A small metal ladder led downwards, into the inky gloom. The ladder led to one of the bathrooms on the other side of the clinic, easy to reach from the dorms. The five of them stared down at it for a while, before Luca clapped his hands.

"Okay! Who's going first?"

"Ladies first," Lale quipped, gesturing towards the darkness. It wasn't much to be scared of, really - the hatch was a secret exit that could only be opened from the outside without the help of a verification badge, and only marines were told of its existence. Luca glared at him as he held up his hands in a placating gesture, somewhat amused that he'd been able to wind the techman up so quickly.

"Okay, okay, I'll go first then." Lale stepped down on the first few rungs, then decided to have a little more fun than that; purposefully dangling his feet in the air, he slid down the metal ladder much more quicker than he would've done climbing down.

"See?" He called up into the light and the crowded faces. More people had joined them, seeking alternative ways back into the facility. "Not so bad!"

Though the smell of this bathroom sure is.

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The woman was old.

Not like it was a bad thing; she had aged pretty well in Lale's mind, with her straight blonde hair only just tinged with silver, and wrinkles beginning to crowd rather than thin along her forehead. But the feeling that she had seen so much was evident in her sharp green eyes as she stood next to Graham, her gaze traveling over the ERAA forces.

It didn't look like she was impressed.

Lale shook himself from his stupor of scrutinizing her - she was an unknown entity, and should be thus treated with caution - and turned back to Amelia, who had been excitedly talking about two men who had come along with the woman.

"Gerald and Atlas! They were the ones that recruited me in the first place." She paused and lowered her voice into a whisper that Lale guessed only Tina was supposed to hear. "I nearly threw a table at them."

Internally rolling his eyes, Lale nudged Bradley, who had crossed his wiry arms and appeared to be deep in thought. "Penny for your thoughts?" Most of the marines shared the same expression of wariness. Too much had happened in the past few months for anyone to trust any outsiders.

"I know her," Bradley murmured under his breath. Lale pulled back a little, surprised. That wasn't what he had been expecting.

"What? How?"

"I remember something about her - I think she was the ex-wife of a politician in the early 'thirties or something. You know; when everything went to hell."

Literally. The earth's ozone layer gave in despite warnings and protests and whatever the people from that time had done to try and stop climate change. It hadn't worked, and in the events that followed were the highest human casualties ever recorded across a global scale. Cities along coastlines were flattened. The Arctic turned green and lush while everywhere else shriveled and burned.

"She kept her husband's surname, though," Bradley continued.

"Yeah? She sounds delightful already." Lale was sceptical, but didn't voice his thoughts. What's the ex-wife of a politician got to do with us?

"Hello, ladies and gentlemen."

Well, we're about to find out. Lale turned to fully focus on the woman, who gave a brief smile as she caught everyone's attention. The room quietened. As he scanned the stage, he noted that the Mr Quillans were nowhere in sight; strange, seeing as Robert was a benefactor of ERAA.

Lale frowned, but decided that it wasn't worth his time to worry over. He had bigger concerns.

"My name is Dr Samson, and it is one of my greatest honors to stand before you today. As a representative of PAST, Preliminary Action, Science and Technology, I salute you all for your brave sacrifices to head into the unknown, and hopefully save humankind."

There was a murmur at her words. Sacrifice? Sure, they were sacrificing their time and their own personal strengths - but it didn't sound like she meant that. Lale flexed his hands to try and cool his rising confusion, keeping his eyes on her.

"Now now, settle down, everyone." It struck him that she was nervous, from the way she wrung her hands to the sing-song tone of her voice, like they were a bunch of toddlers who didn't want to wash their peanut-butter sticky hands. For some reason, this reassured Lale. Dr Samson was a human, with her own feelings and fears; with weaknesses.

A majority of the room hushed, perhaps still wanting to listen.

"I don't like this," Bradley whispered. His arms were still crossed.

"Neither do I," Lale responded, glad he wasn't alone in feeling like this was a very bad setup. "But what can we do?" Brad didn't reply.

"As one of the very first, you could almost say, missionaries of PAST, I too have been in your shoes." Dr Samson's voice took on a kinder tone, and she seemed to be getting over her nerves. But Lale still didn't like the glinting look in her eyes.

"To be poked and prodded at at every turn, and to be doubted and ridiculed. If I were a tad younger, I would be among you," There was a small smatter of laughter at this. Dr Samson smiled. Lale didn't join in, "but I must settle for the sidelines now.

"You all are a part of something so much bigger than yourselves. Not only is the future of mankind at stake, but the future of our habitable world. If we could begin again, things would be easier to reach and take hold of ... to manufacture to our benefit and cause."

"Hey, Lale," Lale looked to Amelia, perplexed. Her eyes were worried. "Have you seen Luca?"

"What?" He scanned the surrounding area - Luca didn't seem to like straying far from Tina and Amelia - but there was no sight of the bespectacled guy. "He wasn't with you guys?" Lale himself wasn't too worried, but he forced himself to at least look interested while Amelia answered and he missed out more of Dr Samson's speech.

"No; I - I thought he followed us here, but I didn't notice until now that he isn't here, and I'm just worried." She tipped her head to the woman upfront. "With her."

"Oh." Lake paused for a few moments to think, all the while very aware of the fact that his and Amelia's faces were incredibly close together to be heard above the murmur and Dr Samson's smooth voice, and that she smelled, underneath the metal and technology aroma they all had, like dust and freshness.

He pulled back a little as he shrugged. "Dunno."

Amelia frowned, as if doubting his mental capacity. "Well, thanks." She didn't sound altogether very grateful, and Lale winced internally. Whoops. Amelia was an attractive girl, and he didn't enjoy upsetting attractive girls.

Feeling like a lame piece of dank, Lale looked back to the stage as the side door opened.

"- thanks to our innovative and miracle-making scientists and technological heads, I now welcome the latest addition to the ERAA mission,"

Daggin' Luca stepped through the door, onto the stage, and Lale was shocked at how perfectly awkward he looked - but then his eyes fell on the rounded, sleek surface of a glossy, rectangularly-bodied device that followed, trundling on wheels of the same reflective substance.

Lale's mouth dropped.

"The EEG; Epochal Evolutionary Guide, which will help you to -"

But the rest of her words were lost as Amelia's curse matched his own thoughts.

"It's a daggin' robot!"

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