De Facto

Part III.

"This is a terrible idea, and I'm going to die within the next ten minutes," thought Zircon.

After poofing Peridots 5XI and 5XU, she had messed around on the ground-level control panels, searching for any evidence of a rose quartz gem having been admitted for harvesting. But the logs said it had not happened. Surely, however, Rose Quartz was somewhere. The Diamonds wouldn't just let her go. Well, Zircon reasoned, if Rose Quartz wasn't shattered, she must have been detained again, and that information would surely be in the criminal records attached to Zircon's own records.

And to get those, she needed access to the building's main database.

Which led to her predicament now. For one, she had little to no idea where she was going. The building was an unsightly conglomeration of architecture, likely built in Era One but renovated with new technology. The main body, the mostly-renovated part, was shaped like a cone, with the tip being the ground floor and the wider base being the top floor — but the wings and tunnels were older, as if the main body of the building had been driven like a stake in between them.

These, in turn, led Zircon into hallways that wrapped in circles, across catwalks that began in the well-lit main building and ended in a dim dead end, up ramps that somehow put her on a lower floor than she'd begun on. For a terrifying few minutes, all of the signs said that she was in the west wing — the exact place she'd told Shadow Agate to be as a diversion — until she made a left and realized they were mislabeled. She was actually in the east wing.

In Zircon's opinion, it was irritatingly impractical; and yet, there was a sense to it. Of course they wouldn't invest money to rebuild the old wings. The Harvester didn't exactly expect visitors.

It would definitely expect an escaping prisoner, unfamiliar with the labyrinthine corridors.

On top of navigating the maze, a constant fear remained. There were peridots everywhere. At first, Zircon put too much effort into avoiding eye contact with them, only to realize that none of them seemed to care. Half of them stared at screens as they passed; the other half expressed only the same vaguely-irritated boredom. The thrill of the alarm and escaped prisoner had long since worn off, and work continued as usual. Still, occasionally Zircon would pass one who didn't wear a visor, and who if she looked up would see that Zircon was clearly a vivid blue, and not as green as she wanted to be. Or one would walk to her side, able to see Zircon's gem if she just glanced over, and Zircon found her shapeshifted visor fogging up from her own sweat.

And worst of all, she knew she was late. It was only a matter of time before Shadow Agate realized that 5XI and 5XU weren't in the west wing to meet her, and that the "treasonous zircon" might not be as disposed of as she thought. It was only a matter of time before she exhausted her shapeshifting abilities (she was already getting fatigued, and sweating even more than usual). And it was only a matter of time before the barrel, which held a sloshing liquid that was gradually heating the metal to alarming temperatures, did something painful.

The last straw came on a lift. Zircon had taken to not liking the lifts — the little attention she got was because of them, mostly peridots telling her that there was no room for her cargo. But this time, it was her only way out of a dead-end corridor. This one was older, and the doors rumbled when they opened, revealing a tiny chamber with faded walls and a flickering light. A single peridot stood inside, tapping on her screen.

Guess this would do. Wiping the perspiration from her cheek, Zircon inhaled and pushed her barrel into the lift.

"What exit?" said the peridot suddenly. Zircon jumped — she hadn't been expecting conversation, and the peridot's voice was surprisingly gravelly.