Participants:
| Scene Title | Window Of Opportunity |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Richard Ray proposes a new project… with a slim window of opportunity for completion. |
| Date | June 12, 2018 |
Raytech NYCSZ Branch Office - Conference Room
An inverted glass pyramid framed in steel bars descends from the ceiling to the floor in the middle of this room, surrounded by a long black tables and matching chairs; small consoles are set along the sides of the table, allowing interaction with the 'holographic' display system, allowing images to be displayed in apparent three-dimensions within the room's centerpiece. There's also a flat television on one wall, mostly used for teleconferencing.
The windows can be polarized to opaque with a simple touch control, providing natural light or privacy as desired, and a cabinet beneath the television holds a variety of supplies - clipboards, paper, notebooks, pens and the like.
“…know we have a holographic display here,” Richard is saying to the screen of a razor-thin laptop that’s sitting in front of a chair, gesturing to the clear pyramid that stretches from the ceiling downward to the middle of the conference room, “But I need that for this presentation, so just use the webcam, little brother.” He’s dressed in his business attire, black on black with a red tie. Company colors.
At the moment, said pyramid is displaying a three-dimensional version of the Raytech logo, slowly spinning, in demonstration of its holographic abilities. It sits at the middle of the room, around which a conference table in black glass sits, with comfortable faux-leather chairs around it.
Upon arriving at the building, visitors are given ‘guest’ lanyards and cautioned to keep them on - Richard is wearing a lanyard himself, if one that looks quite different - and escorted to the conference room in question.
Security seems quite high at the moment, which shouldn’t be a surprise really.
“Knock knock,” comes a voice rather than an actual knock. Wearing one of the visitor lanyards and leaning in the doorway to the conference room is Noa Gitelman, also dressed in black, but certainly not because they’re Raytech colors.
She holds a cup of coffee, given to her by the Raytech escort, and takes a sip as she looks at the display, dark eyes darting at the various focal points, before moving back to Richard. “Good to see you. This is very high-tech for a Luddite,” she teases, before moving forward to offer him a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. She looks so much like Hana, but there are differences.
Behind the young woman from afar forward and hopefully long gone(?) future steps Gillian. She’s dressed in the same business casual attire she often wears, but she submitted to any kind of search and security lanyard-ing that had been needed when she steps inside. Her eyebrows raise at the sight before she shakes her head a little. “You were remarkably vague in your request, Richard.” At least she managed not to call him Cardinal this time.
She cast a side glance at Noa, recognizing her, but not all at the same time. They hadn’t really been majorly introduced, but she knew enough to know who she probably was. She had figured, when she got the message, that the meeting was to ask about the tape, the video that she and others had witnessed, that her and Kaylee had seen together. But now that she sees Noa, she has her doubts.
There's a few minutes of delay, as a few people yell in surprise beyond the room.
Warren is known for hiding things that he's built in odd places, particularly in areas of Raytech.
He knew that this day would have to come eventually.
The doors burst open, and a very skeletal automaton made out of various pieces of tech junk and old parts opens the door, with a tablet built into its face, which is streaming Warren's face. "I need a body if I'm going to be present! I knew hiding this robot was the right thing to do."
It goes to grab a seat, walking awkwardly, arms occasionally flailing in a weird motion. Then he sits, and holds his robotic junk hands, turning a head to nod his tablet face to the others. "Hey, you look familiar." he says to Gillian, who she should clearly remember, but he has trouble remembering her.
“Hey, long time,” Richard smiles, reaching out to return the hug before stepping back, “And yeah, well…” He jerks a thumb towards the laptop, “…Alia and my brother give me tech, wait for me to break it, then fix it four or five times until I can’t break it anymore.”
The smile’s still there, warm, as the other woman comes in, “Gillian, thanks for coming. I know, I know, but I need to maintain some operational— “
Then shouting, and then the door opens and a junk-robot stumbles in. He looks at it for a long moment, and then sinks his face into his hands.
“He’s my brother and I love him,” he mutters against his fingers, as if reminding himself of the fact, “He’s my brother… and I love him,”
When Gilian speaks from behind her, Noa turns; her expression is one of surprised recognition and she offers a soft, “Hi, I’m Noa,” along with her hand.
She looks almost shy, which is rare for her, but it’s only for a moment. It’s not everyday a girl meets the mother of one of her friends. At least not this many years after the original landing of the time travelers.
The robot gets a lift of her brow. “I think I saw this on one of the sitcoms the kids made me watch,” she says wryly. “Hi, Mr. Ray,” she says to the face on the tablet, before glancing at Richard. “I, uh, wouldn’t use that in any meetings with prospective clients. Just sayin’.”
“Gillian,” the older woman in a dressy suit set responds, offering her hand to shake it, but— then there’s a robot stomping into the room and things do not really shake hands make nice kind of situation anymore. “Your brother… is a robot.” They spent years fighting these things, though this one is obviously not the same kind of thing at all. She gives Richard a glance before she nods to the robot. “Gillian.” Yes, she’s now given her name twice.
She knows that Richard had a brother, that he was working somewhere far away, but he was the mastermind of Raytech. She also—- knew this brother. Quite well. At least for a short time. She doesn’t recognize him in this robot immediately. “Well you don’t really look familiar.” Maybe he sounded that way, though.
It’ll come to her eventually. But for now she sits moves over to the table and sits down. “So. What is it you have planned?” She looks toward the man in charge, the robot and finally the young woman she doesn’t really know.
Warren taps the table with his robot hand, which suggests that he's perhaps wearing a suit that makes the thing copy some of his movements. "I have memory issues, I've gone through a lot of personalities and mind alterations." he explains to Gillian, robotic hand scratching robotic head. "When I see your face, I suddenly think of the expansion of the universe, like something I can't quite remember but it's just under the surface. Some sort of grand design…"
“Warren was… mentally ill for quite some time,” says Richard frankly as he eases into a chair, “He went through a series of alternate personalities until some brain surgery was able to repair that… you may have known one of them, but— “ A dismissive motion of his hand, “It’s academic right now.”
Quickly, change the subject before Warren decides he needs to be amplified to build something that gives Richard nightmares.
“Okay. So!” Moving on from the sudden robotic intrusion, “Gillian’s… already seen some of what I’m going to talk about, I believe. First of all, I need to briefly cover how string theory works, in a practical sense.”
He turns his head to the holographic display, “Computer — security passcode REDKING. Display superstring map.”
The logo disappears, and a line begins moving over downwards slowly. “This is our timeline. Then there’s a major event— let’s say the Vanguard’s attempt to destroy the world with a virus.” The line splits horizontally, then continues downard. “Or Operation Apollo.” It splits again, three lines now. “Or Arthur Petrelli’s stopped on the roof of Pinehearst. “ Again. “Or maybe some asshole goes back in time to stop the wasteland with an insane plan.” Another line starts further back and then catches up, and one of the lines forks into it.
He looks at the three, “The important thing to understand is that time wasn’t changed. The futures that some people saw— they all happened. And they’re still happening. There’s a world out there with almost everything dead, there’s a world that’s all Kevin Costner’s Waterworld, Arthur’s got his boot on another world’s neck. There’s a blasted nuclear wasteland with robots roaming about— “ He breaks off, his expression softening as he looks to the woman from that world, “I’m so sorry, Noa. Time travel never fixes anything, it just… creates a new possibility.”
A slow breath’s drawn in as he leans back, “In 1982, a woman named Michelle LeRoux developed a method of viewing other superstrings.”
Noa glances at the robot and Warren’s face on the tablet, offering a small, sympathetic smile, but she moves to one of the seats and settles into it once Richard begins the show. She watches, hologram reflected in the dark mirrors of her eyes, but her expression remains one of polite, professional interest.
Nothing seems too shocking for the woman who wasn’t born until 2023.
When Richard apologizes to her, she lifts a hand from her coffee cup. “I’m not naive,” she says. “I mean, yeah, I’m aware of it, but it’s always been something theoretical and abstract. But,” she adds, “Time travel can fix some things — at least for the people in the reality we’re living in. If there’s another me to be born in a wasteland apocalypse, it’s not the reality that’s set before me. And like I said, it’s theoretical and abstract.”
Until it’s not, of course.
Noa tips her head. “By viewing, you mean what, exactly?” She takes a sip of her coffee, and realizes she has a second question. “And who’s Kevin Costner?”
“Time travel changes everything for the world that it makes, Richard,” Gillian stayed quiet during the presentation, even sat down at one point as she started to pale. None of this was things she didn’t already know, but she had a specific thing to say on that. Because it did change everything. For them. If someone hadn’t traveled through time, they would be the world of the virus. If someone hadn’t traveled through time, they would be the world under Arthur’s boot, or the world a blasted wasteland covered with robots.
She wouldn’t have her daughter. She wouldn’t know about the son she was supposed to have in two worlds. A son that was never born in this one, but part of her wanted to believe he would live on in one of them, at least.
“Kevin Costner made movies. He was a terrible Robin Hood, The Postman’s pretty good, though.” Apparently, she has an opinion on his movies. In fact, part of her thinks the current American West might be very much like The Postman.
Michelle LeRoux. Not a name she’s heard exactly. But she knows she’s heard the name LeRoux before. A long time ago. Though not as long ago as 1982. Her lips press together in thought. Noa’s question covers what she wanted to ask, so she just leans back and listens.
"Wasn't I the evil overlord in the robot wasteland? I forgot how that all worked." Warren asks very casually, having grabbed a piece of sketch paper to start drawing random doodles of schematics. He titled it 'Universe Hole Puncher', with the caption 'How Do I Punch Holes?'.
He waits intently for Richard to explain.
"You're both right. It matters for the world it makes, at least. Some people… but, anyway," Richard shakes his head as he dismisses the line of thinking as unimportant to the moment, "Moving on. Also, Alan Rickman was great in that movie, whatever you say about Costner, and no, Warren, that was me, you just built me the robots."
"During the Company's old bag and tag days," he says, with no small amount of scorn for the practice - or maybe it's something personal? "They'd identified Michelle as a hypercognitive, that is, her evolved ability was 'being the smartest person on Earth'. She worked with Edward Ray and a man named Richard Schwenkman. They thought they were building a window through time, but they had the axis wrong. Instead of going up and down a timeline, it went sideways to the others, and let them see what was going on there."
One hand comes up to rub between his eyes, "The first time she turned it on, there was an aurora display above the city. The Company moved in. The device exploded, Michelle ran from the agents… and was promptly mowed down by a truck by complete accident."
"In some timelines, she had a son named Richard." Faint, his smile, "In some, she didn't. Regardless— the Company tried to replicate the Looking Glass technology for years, and finally shelved it. The Institute picked it up later, but again, didn't manage to replicate it."
One hand spins a bit, "Moving forward. Some of you were at the radio bunker during the war. You may remember the La Mer signal." At the end of 2011 and the beginning of 2012, the song - sung, distinctively, by Else Kjelstrom - was heard on repeat from a radio signal at the bunker. The origin point was the bunker itself, but no equipment was ever to be found to be broadcasting it. It faded not long after the new year began, but until then, Richard would stay up late into the night listening to it.
He was always a bit obsessive.
"I figured it was a lingering effect of what happened at Nazahat… but there were solar storms occuring at the time. We're experiencing an odd solar storm right now, and— " He touches a spot on the slick black console before him, and a static-filled signal, faint and far away, comes through. The voice, if one can recognize it through the disruptions, is Else.
La mer
Qu'on voit— *static— des golfes clai— *static*
A des refl— *static*— mer…
"We're receiving it again. And I think it's a signal from the timeline where Operation Apollo failed. A signal to our superstring from the Flooded World."
Gillian’s reply regarding time travel earns a small smile from Noa — they are like the heads and tails of the same coin, each able to know a mother or a daughter they might not otherwise have known. The expression shifts to one of amusement when the others describe Kevin Costner’s movies, none of which she’s seen.
When Warren asks about the robot wasteland, the amusement fades, but she doesn’t reply, glancing down when Richard takes the blame for Warren’s wrongdoings. She’ll plead the fifth on this one. No need to tell the formerly crazy person the truth.
Her dark eyes narrow in concentration as she listens to the song, one she’s heard a few times now, before lifting to find Richard’s face again. “What is it you’re asking us to do?” she says fairly bluntly — and in that moment, it’s probably very obvious she’s a Gitelman.
It’s a lot of information, but Gillian tilts her head as she listens. He’d said he thought he might not have been born in this world before, and it seems he’s learned more about that. The mention of the Company and the Institute all trying to do what she did. The librarian leans backward in her chair and just continues to listen, until finally Noa cuts to the chase. That’s when she leans forward.
She doesn’t know exactly what Noa does, but she could imagine why she’s here. To make whatever they do more likely to work— “I’m not augmenting your brother,” she notes, pointing toward the robot. She’d done that once. He started raving about fixing the broken gear that is the world. “I’ve learned better than to augment Rays.” Who had a history of meglomania.
Mostly because she feels like everything started when she augmented Edward fucking Ray.
"OH!" Warren suddenly shouts, the robot smacking the table. "That's why I remember you! It's one of my broken memories, from when I was Mortimer. Those come back sometimes." The tablet head is turned in Gillian's direction now. "I remember now. I had a grand design for entirely creating a vast technological utopia."
He points to Richard. "We have to find those designs, I wrote them down somewhere!"
But he quickly returns to the topic, once he calms down a bit.
Very carefully considering what Richard is trying to ask by reading between the lines of his explanation.
"Are you saying that you want me to invent a robot that can cross between dimensional space and can turn into pure interdimensional radio waves? I'm not quite sure if I can do that, but if Gillian's willing to help…" he rubs his robotic chin, in deep thought.
Richard brings one hand up to cover his face, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. His free hand reaches out, first pointing at Gillian. “That is correct. You are not to ever do that again,” he states rather firmly, “I don’t want him killing himself trying to build some technological marvel, and I’m pretty sure he would, if you did that. No offense, Warren, but you know damn well that your ability is inherently damaging to your brain as it is.”
The finger swings towards the robot, “And that is absolutely not what we’re going to do.”
He lets the hand on his face drop, and looks over the trio with a wry expression, “No, we’re going to do something a little less… insane than that, if you’re willing to cooperate. Warren, what I need you to do is upgrade the radio equipment in the bunker. We need more power, and a wider frequency spectrum. Noa, we’ll need your ability to try and tune in to the frequency we’re picking up — Gillian, you don’t have to help — I’d never ask you if it wasn’t for what was on that tape.”
He looks at her, a flicker of something behind his eyes, “I never would. You deserve a retirement from all this bullshit if anyone does. But you know what was on there. If you’re willing to help, you can boost Noa’s… radiopathy? Specialized technopathy? I’m terrible with categorizing technological powers, sorry.”
Hands spread, “The last week of the month, there’ll be a massive coronal ejection. The solar activity will be at maximum strength, the signal too. So, God willing… we could possibly make radio contact with the people listening on the other side.”
Noa’s dark eyes slide sideways to glance at the robot, her expression stoic, before they return to Richard’s as he explains further. Her hand lifts in a dismissive wave about what to call her brand of technopathy.
“First, as I’m sure you’re aware, I’ll be needing to clear everything with Hana, both out of personal respect for her opinion and as a professional courtesy.” And the fact she doesn’t want to be disowned goes unsaid. “I’m not sure she’ll be convinced this is a good idea.”
She lifts a brow. “Second, communicate… to what end? It’s fascinating, for sure, and I admit to being curious, but that doesn’t mean it’s a box we should open. I understand if you’re drawn to it because of family — trust me, I get that. But what aren’t you telling us?”
She glances at Gillian, wondering if she knows more than Noa does. “I’m not going to help simply because something might be possible. It might do more harm than good.”
And that is exactly why she has no intention of ever augmenting Warren again. It’s true they participated in a few projects together afterward that had interesting results, but it’s things like that that Gillian has no intention of replicating. She certainly hopes those notes had been destroyed. Completely. Whatever they had been. His take on the situation garners a similar response from her. She covers her face. Until Richard says what his plan really was.
“You saw the same tape I did, Richard. But did Kaylee show you what the tape didn’t show? I’m worried that an attempt to do something like this will contact more than…” Gillian hesitates, glancing toward Noa and the robot. He’d been vague about ‘the tape’ and what they might be getting into contact with, so she didn’t know if he was wanting to say exactly what they had seen. What was on the tape. What was not actually on the tape.
“More than what we want to accomplish. Even Eve is having second thoughts about doing anything that might bring the attention of… certain other things we might not want the attention of.” Specifically, who she likes to call Golden Eyes. And she is now completely convinced that ‘Golden Eyes’ is not their friend.
"Well, I'm certainly ready to do this for entirely no reason." Warren answers, while the robot crosses its arms and nods twice.
He's on board.
“I wouldn’t expect otherwise,” Richard affirms to the mention of Hana, and then he sighs— easing back into his seat and leaning back in it, one hand coming up to rub at the nape of his neck, fingers rasping up into his hair.
“We’re not opening any doors, if that’s what you’re worried about, Gillian,” he says, quietly but seriously, “This is just— think of it as taking advantage of a natural overlap, a moment when the strings have a natural shift of harmonic frequency that brings them closer together. I couldn’t reproduce my mother’s work if I tried — which is probably for the best, honestly. She was the smartest woman in the world, and all I have is a GED.”
The last quip accompanied with a wry smile, and then he looks back to Noa. A breath’s drawn in, and he explains: “I’m sure you were briefed on the Mount Nazahat event. Or at least heard about it from everyone rattling around the bunker. As it turns out… when Magnes went all black hole on us and Ezekiel turned his machine towards it, it didn’t destroy them. It punched a hole between worlds and crash landed them in another superstring, another timeline. They’ve been working to find a way back ever since. That’s Liz. My— that’s Liz. If there’s a chance we can locate her, I can’t not take it.”
“And…” He lifts one hand a bit, helplessly, “The location of the broadcast, and the fact that there was equipment left behind specifically tuned to pick it up, suggests that it’s a phone call for me, specifically.” A faint smile, “It seems rude not to answer.”
The stoic expression falters a little with a furrow of Noa’s brow when Gillian alludes to the mysterious tape, and deepens into a scowl at Warren’s willingness to do something “for entirely no reason.”
When Richard says it’s about Magnes and Liz, though, she lifts both brows. “Way to bury the lead there, Rich,” she says a bit wryly, leaning back in the chair and crossing her arms.
“Well, obviously I want to help them. But not if Gillian and Hana aren’t on board.” Noa looks to Gillian, offering a small smile, clearly looking to her to be the moral compass in this trio of her friends’ parents.
No offense, boys.
“So how would it work and when? So I have all the details to discuss with Hana.”
“I know you’re not trying to open a door. You’d need different people here for that,” Gillian responds, but it’s not the door she’s worried about. She’s worried about things that don’t need a door at all. “We don’t know what the signal will contact, what it will do, if it will allow a signal to come back. I’ve seen my ability used to hurt more people than I can even possibly count,” In conjunction with others, certainly, but it had happened often, back in the past. She’d tried to make sure it didn’t happen again, even to the point of not using her ability during the war even when it would have probably been useful.
No one had convinced her it would be safe. Until a young girl wanted to save a man trapped in a bird. And helping Eve with her visions, and it had nearly killed her.
“They were trying to use a radio too. On the tape. And if Kaylee showed you what those kids saw the first time they watched it, they succeeded in doing a lot more than sending a camcorder from one… ‘super string’ to another.” She’s not fond of that word, but she’ll use it. “I’m not concerned about a door. I’m concerned what will hear and that what will hear won’t need us to create a door at all. It may just need us to listen, or to make ourselves heard.”
But it’s not exactly that she doesn’t understand what Richard wants to do. “We don’t even know if they’re the ones who will recieve the message. If I remember correctly this is exactly what the device in Alaska was supposed to be doing. Sending a message. Through time, sure, but we don’t know what even trying to send one… sideways will do.”
And she’s seen her ability used to make things go very, very badly.
"Then I'll build a radio and a cage!" Warren seems to find a solution to all of this trouble, the robot starting to scribble on his paper. "Some kind of device that traps the signals that we receive, so that they can't escape, and maybe some sort of gun that sucks up different forms of energy and traps it! How many days do I have, again?"
It’s up to Gillian, it seems, Richard’s gaze turning to her… then she speaks, and he sighs, nodding once. “I know it has,” he says regarding her ability, almost guilty for even asking, “And I wouldn’t ask if— well. No matter.”
He spreads his hands a little, “All I could do was ask. I suppose that’s that. Thank you for your time, both of you, I— appreciate you hearing me out, at least, even if it didn’t work out. I guess I’ll have to wait for Christmas.” Whatever that means.
He offers a tired smile to the pair, then, pushing himself up to his feet, “Thanks for coming.”
Noa listens as Gillian speaks of ‘what ifs,’ then glances at Richard, frowning a little when she gauges his feelings. Warren gets another side-eyed glance from the time traveler, before she sighs, too, moving to stand when Richard does.
“I’m not against helping you get them back,” she says, reaching to squeeze Richard’s arm. “We just need to make sure it’s not making things worse. And of course only if everyone’s comfortable doing so.”
She pauses a moment, before adding, “I’m sorry. I know you miss her,” in a softer voice. “I hope you’re right and that she’s okay somewhere.” Somewhen.
At the rather sudden ‘thanks for stopping by’ Gillian doesn’t move from her seat, giving him a long look as the girl seems to take it in stride. Perhaps because Hana would likely never agree to that sort of thing in the first place. Even if she had all the information like Golden Eyes and possible Company connection on the camcorder. Cause she had considered taking the camcorder to Hana as soon as she heard it had been Company. Then she had opted against it.
None of those who had been described in the vision were still alive, anyway. Nothing Wolfhound needed to hunt down today.
“If you can present a solid plan that keeps it as small scale as possible… I’ll give it a second thought. I just don’t want to cause another disaster. And sending a message, even if we believed it harmless, might have unintended consequences. Trust me, I want them to be alive too.” And from the way it had sounded, two of the Lighthouse Kids had been as well. There’s possibly a lot of people who could be long gone to them alive in another world.
It almost hurt too much to think about. “I know the solar flares give a limited window for what you were wanting to do, but if you can show me that you’re taking precautions…” If he can show her that he’s considering the consequences… “Just don’t try to do this on your own.”
Because that’s exactly what she would have done if it were someone she loved as much as she knew he loved Liz.
"I still think we should just send a robot drone to explore other worlds, but I guess that'd be considered dangerous." Warren taps a robot finger against the table, staring over at Noa, then Gillian, then to Noa again. "I'm not a fan of the future me." he says, out of the blue. "He invented a Mallet Device that was designed in a way that required hurting Elle. I'd probably kill him myself. It wouldn't be the first time I killed a version of myself. Though they're alive in my head."
"Jack, would you hurt Elle?" he asks, then waits for a response, before frowning. "See, we're all in agreement that Elle is the greatest person ever born."
“She is,” Richard says confidently, if quietly, offering Noa a faint smile as she clasps his arm, one hand lifting to cover it briefly, “And I do know what I’m doing. Even if nobody believes that anymore… I’m not him. And I’ll prove it eventually.”
He looks back to Gillian, then, considering her for a long moment before nodding slightly, “I’ll let you know my plan, and my precautions.” A twitch of his lips, then, “And I’d never try to do this on my own, Gillian.”
“We aren’t them, Warren,” he repeats firmly, “Get down to the bunker as soon as is convenient and come up with a design for me with easily available materials - our resources are already strained so we can’t go building a two mile wide radio telescope because I know that’ll be your first suggestion.” He knows the man too well. “I want a stronger signal, a wider frequency band, and an emergency cut off that’s easy as shit to trigger. God knows I’d bring a negator along if I had one, but I don’t. Check the existing equipment for any notes or suggestions while you’re examining it, because God knows your father’s left us instructions in weirder places before.”
He wouldn’t try it alone. He never has to do anything alone.
He has his family.
Glancing from Gillian to Warren to Richard, Noa squeezes Richard’s arm again, before looking to Warren. “I know you’re not. I wouldn’t be here if I believed you were,” she says simply, as if that is the end of that discussion.
She looks back to Richard. “Once you have a plan, then, let us know? What’s the timeline on this? I can try to keep the calendar clean but the Hounds don’t always wait.”
“You better not,” Gillian responds when he says he wouldn’t do it by himself. That doesn’t mean he’ll actually do it with her, but it does allow for some relief that he won’t just run off and blindly send messages without being careful. With that, she does stand up. “If Hana has any questions about the tape that started this whole thing…” Actually it would probably just be better if the kid who might get wrapped up in this had it to.
“I’ll give you a copy. Just don’t show it to everyone. The more people who know the more dangerous this could get.” For all of them?
At least Golden Eyes isn’t actually on the tape, so there’s that. It just shows the five people who were crazy enough to try messing with a black hole, if that’s what it actually was.
“Send me your specs and we can try.” The worst that could happen wouldn’t be that it didn’t work, though, and she wanted people to be aware of that before they tried.
There were always worse things that could happen.
"You know, the hardest part about having other people in your head is that they want to get out and date and other things like that." Warren starts saying out of the blue, tapping the side of his robotic head. "I should find Bella and see if she wants to do another brain experiment. Whatever happened to her? Isabella Sheridan, I still kind of remember that experiment when she gave me my ability back, after Arthur Petrelli stole it."
He rubs his chin now, or, well, the bottom of his tablet. "I bet he went entirely insane. I wonder what happened to him, too."
“Hana’s already aware of Looking Glass, so you won’t need to explain the whole alternate worlds thing to her,” Richard admits, “I, ah.. I might have written on her walls a bit while I was explaining it.”
He offers a faint smile to Noa, reassuring maybe, then looks to Gillian, “I’ll let the two of you know closer to the date when we can go live, and— you can make your decision then. I’m not that reckless, you know.”
There’s a pained look as he looks over to Warren, “I killed Arthur back in two thousand nine, Warren. And yes, the sonuvabitch was crazy as a bag full of rabid cats by then.” He doesn’t comment on Isabella Sheridan since mentioning that she’s on the payroll might lead to a whole bunch of other questions.
At least her legal status is solid.
“Okay. Thank you, and I mean it, both of you— “ He spreads his hands a bit towards the two women, “— for hearing me out, at least. We’ll see what happens, eh?”