Do It Yourself



Scene Title Do It Yourself
Synopsis Cat makes a discovery
Date March 13, 2010

The Verb, Penthouse

Arriving by any of four elevators, visitors will find they open into three foot corridors facing wide double doors made from sturdy southern pine which swing outward and have the strongest locks available. The stairs lead to single doors, also outward opening, at the end of three foot corridors. Entry requires both a key and a keycard; other security measures are a video camera and voice communication terminal at all doors. The 4th Street side has floor to ceiling windows interrupted only by the access points. Cream colored curtains are normally kept closed.

This level has enough space for sixteen apartments. There is an office space with reception area, conference room, and executive office; a room for archery practice and other forms of physical exercise; a very well appointed kitchen and dining area; a music zone with an array of instruments, electronics, and amplifiers; an entertainment area with an HD set covering an entire stretch of wall from floor to ceiling; a locked room where security footage for the building is recorded and can be monitored; a laundry room; a staircase for roof access; central air and heating; the main bedroom and a few smaller guest rooms; plush deep wine carpet everywhere except the kitchen, laundry room and bathrooms; and track lighting everywhere overhead. The light levels can be lowered or raised in the entire place, or selectively by segments. The overall decor suggests the occupant is a woman.

It's morning again. She'd read the information from Else's notebook, scanned and sent around by Colette, the night before. Some time was spent breaking it down into separate segments, but the project set aside in favor of sleep. Waking propels Cat from her bed and into the kitchen area. Coffee must be had, and food. The maker is turned on, ingredients assembled, and the brew commences to percolate. Then, stifling a yawn, she calls down to the lobby and requests her morning papers be sent up.

It's just a few minutes later, after opening the access panel and sending it down, that the chosen elevator returns with them and nothing else inside. She pads out in bare feet, sports bra, and shorts to retrieve them. That access panel is closed and locked again, back inside she goes, yawning again. "Please, coffee, be ready," she breathes out as eyes begin to take in printed data. At the top of the stack today is the New Voice. It makes her grin slightly. "Oh, West, if I ever decide to let you know I'm your new boss, you're gonna shit bricks."

By the time she's made it to the kitchen, having placed the papers on her dining room table, coffee's ready. A cup is poured, milk and sugar are added, and Cat stirs it all together with a spoon making slight clinking sounds against the vessel's interior. One hand holds it up, she blows on it gently to cool the liquid so she can drink without burning herself, and on making it back to the table she's reading again. Her non-coffee hand turns pages while she settles into a chair, and in due course it's found. West Rosen's article about government weather manipulation. "Damnit," she mutters, "you're a man, West. Call yourself Ross. Not Rose." But… what's this? Red letters. "Good morning, Rebel. We're working on grabbing the girl." It doesn't take long to figure out the message.

change has come

She can read the papers later. Now it's time to visit a website. Coffee is taken with her, she goes to the office area and calls up

The photo of a Nazi concentration camp is eyed, along with the quote superimposed to the top left corner. "George Orwell. But the quote is wrong. Revolutionary act, not idea." Her head tilts, she fires up the de-steg program and saves the file. Now it's password time. She types in act. And it pays off in a list of files. They're placed into a folder, itself a subfolder of the one she created regarding Rebel, and opened to be examined one by one. The text file is selected first, and it makes her freeze. Had she been in the act of drinking coffee in that moment, some of it would be on the screen right now.

"Fuuuuuck! It's roping people into creating do it yourself ghettos!" That thought causes her memory to trigger, the mind's eye filling with images from the ghettos created by Nazis in Warsaw which were sealed off late in 1940. They linger even as her mind turns to Summer Meadows and recent events, comparing them with the contents of the text file. She flashes back to the ninth, at Summer Meadows, the party.

There's a common sentiment that seems to mingle in with what can only be called the vibe of the crowd. Outside of party atmosphere, there's restless resentment, annoyance, and it's— infectious. Infectious in a way where even those talking common sense start to feel it nag their senses. Helena and Cat have been fighting a battle for Evos for a long time, and old hurt down that vein flares a little thicker while Roosevelt residents sneer at their place of choice getting invaded. There are theories about the way crowds operate, sharing emotion. Like the frog in the pot, the crowd begins to simmer in it.

"— disperse in an orderly fashion or action will be taken. This is the New York Police— "

Her jaw is setting as she snaps herself out of it, forces the remembered images and sensations away. The anger she felt rising and struggled to rein in. The crowd, the police, violence starting to happen. "They've found someone like Bill Dean, I think, to make sure trouble happens and create pretexts for walling areas off. Compelling the residents to cause their own segregation." There are things to do. Contact Bennet. Contact Hana. Share this with them. But before that, someone else will see her discovery and hear her theory first. Cat moves quickly, she knocks loudly on a bedroom door when she reaches it.

"Helena! Wake up! I have to show you something!"

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