Ingenious

Chapter III

When I was a little girl, a mere fledgling of a trainee, the sheer size of the Cortex institute, used to always leave me awestruck. Regardless of the fact that this place, with its sterile infrastructure, unforgiving training grounds and an atmosphere that demands discipline and conformity in exchange for every second you spend in it, is the only home I've ever really known, and I had long since gotten used to it. Or so I thought.

Now, as I follow this massive human being, down hallways and corridors that are even more so, I can't help but feel incredibly small and insignificant, like an insect, like a lonely gnat in a rainforest. And the feeling is eerily familiar.

The scarred officer leads me up and down several flights of stairs, past so many doors I lose count, and down so many similar looking halls at some point I begin to suspect that he might be lost. I struggle to keep up with him, his ridiculously fast gait aided by his gargantuan legs, while my own legs, rendered puny in comparison, stumble after him. If it wasn't for the unmistakable shine of his shaven head, a glimmer of white on a flash of umber, as he turns another corner, I would have lost him seven hallways ago. He never once turns back to make sure I'm still following. At first, I assumed it was because he could hear the sound of my footsteps behind him or perhaps that he knows that he's just too intimidating to not obey, but now that I think about it, he might just not care...

We pass several people on our little trek, officers whose rankings increase the deeper we go towards the administrative building. I'm pretty sure I've locked eyes with quite a few squad leaders, two major generals and a Lieutenant General by now, each encounter soliciting a hurried salute from me and a nod of acknowledgement from the other party.

Just when I'm beginning to fear that my arms and legs will fall off from all the exertion, the giant officer pauses for what must be a microsecond, before yet another pair of double doors slide open for him with a faint 'swoosh', and I'm so sure that if all the doors of the institute didn't open automatically, he wouldn't have hesitated to burst through them with an echoing 'bang' instead. Nevertheless, the middle aged woman perched behind a chrome plated metallic desk looks surprised, if a bit startled, to see us, well, him. I doubt she has noticed me yet and I can't say I blame her. She seems to settle down when their eyes meet, a silent sort of understanding passing between them, and I can't shake the sinking feeling that it has something to do with the reason I'm here. But I don't think about it right then because something miraculous happens: the officer turns around to look at me.

"Wait here." He says, with a voice like thunder in the quiet stillness of the room, then he turns to leave without another word, before I can even raise my hand from my side to salute. Disappearing behind yet another pair of doors, leaving me alone; though not technically, since the woman at the desk is still present. I observe her, 'click-clacking' away at the various projections hovering around her, iridescent charts and floating words springing to life at the touch of her slightly weathered hands, creating the only sounds to fill the room. She still doesn't acknowledge my presence, no obligatory greeting or offer to take a seat escapes the tight press of her thin lips. I find myself wondering how General Heinrich could have such a rude secretary.

And it is that thought that jolts me back to reality, like a callous slap in the face, reminding me of the severity of my current situation. I am outside the office of one of the most important men in the country, quite possibly the world. A man who asked to see me specifically. Immediately. My stomach is seized by several knots, twisting and writhing with a force so violent and sudden, I nearly double over from the pain. But that is nothing compared to the throbbing in my head, as a million questions ram and thud against the inside of my skull, a multitude of voices demanding to be heard, but only one yelling louder than the cries of its brothers: What did I do?