The heavy footfalls thundered overhead. Gordon was only now having doubts. So close to his lifelong dream but now he's pondering of running away with his tail between his legs. The footsteps stopped overhead but he could now hear them coming down the stairs at the end of the hall. The Gentern at the welcome counter paid no attention just continuing to do her business as normal. How can she? Gordon was just having trouble sitting still. Not from excitement at meeting his hero, it was of sheer terror. No matter how many times he bragged to his friends about how he would work for Rotti Largo and with the man creating the thundering footfalls coming closer, and closer down the stairs, Gordon was still terrified, as conditioned. Trying to calm himself, Gordon reminded himself of the few newspaper clippings, the photos he found on the interwebs depicting this man, all masked of course, and the service posters adorning the walls of his childhood room. It was amazing of how infamous this man was but still it was almost impossible to find any information about him.
These few precious moments seemed to take hours in Gordon's mind, but only about two minutes in the real world. The man was just reaching view and all Gordon could see were… shoes? The fear was replaced with doubt. There was no sweeping uniform, no boots, no mask; a normal looking man came down the stairs. He looked old enough to be Gordon's father. His spectacled face was lined and looked tired, but his eyes were sharp, piercing, and alert. Gordon had the feeling that he was not just being x-rayed but as though my organs themselves were being processed. The man's heavy footfalls approached him. The man's graying dark blonde hair was short, he looked scholarly, perhaps a male surGEN.
Of course, why would they send one to pick up a prospective number? They were probably on a case. Suddenly Gordon was depressed, what idiotic hopes to have one of them pick him up for the interview. Gordon really did want to go home hug his mother and claim it was a joke, all of this anxiety for a surGEN.
"Gordon Parke?" The man asked in a baritone voice, which held a slight accent that Gordon couldn't place in his muddled mind.
"Yeah." Gordon replied glumly.
The man paused, continuing to inspect him with those grey-blue eyes behind his glasses. Crap I probably sound like a high Zydrate addict. Gordon cleared his throat upon this thought. "Yes, that's me." At least this time I sound more attentive.
"Rotti Largo wishes to see you."
"Already?" Gordon was shocked to see the head of GeneCo. "I had no interview or anything, I just requested the position. Isn't there some sort of test to see if I'm worthy enough?" Gordon spluttered out
The man stared at him quizzically, amused almost. "This is your interview."