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"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!"

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