DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ASSASSINS CREED!
A Time to Love
Chapter 1
2012
Click, click, click, click, click. Her stilettos clicked along the floor as she walked down the corridor to her workspace, lined by three and a half glass walls and an open space for coming and going. Putting her handbag on the desk, she removed her coat and draped it across the back of her chair, sitting down and removing her shoes. She bent down a little to reach under her desk and turned the computer on. Waiting for it to boot up, she drummed her French manicured nails on the metal desk. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. After a minute, the screen lit up, asking for her user ID and password. A few more little taps and a definitive one later, the computer gave a happy hum and welcomed Gracia Roberti. Settling herself in for the day, she picked the bottom item of her 'IN' tray and opened it up. She always worked from the bottom unless given something important because she saw it as the things on the bottom are the oldest so they should be done first. It made sense to her.
A little while later, her eyes flicked back and forth between the computer screen and the file that she had propped up against the wall of her cubicle. She was a data processor for the international company called Abstergo Industries. That basically meant that she spent all day typing up people's handwritten notes and analysis's into a computer and then sending it to the Data Handling Department. She'd only had the simple '9-to-5' job for a couples of weeks, maybe two months, and she was bored stiff. But it paid the bills and with the economy…Well, no matter how boring and dreary a job was, she couldn't just quit without knowing that there were ten other jobs waiting for her. Plus 10.50€ an hour was a small incentive, since Italy didn't actually have a state minimum wage. But some of the other employees kind of gave her the impression that they were…Well, stuck there. Like their contract wasn't going to run out for a long time. If it ever ran out. Though they didn't really talk to her. In fact, there wasn't much communication between anyone. Something in her gut told her it wasn't allowed, or frowned upon whilst they were supposed to be working.
Some of the only interaction she'd had since starting the job was when she signed in and out for the day – which was obscenely difficult in-and-of itself; the amount of security and checks that she had to go through…An ID check to pull into the underground parking lot where she and her car are then searched after pulling into her allocated space, one to access the building via the only elevator that goes down to that level, another when she arrived at the floor she needed after she left the elevator – which all had two armed guards in them – random checks throughout the day, along with the guards that routinely patrolled through the huge room that she worked in.
Then she had to repeat the whole thing to leave. Check with the guards monitoring the elevator, check with the guards in charge of the only entrance/exit of the building, check with the guards in the parking lot, have another car and body search and then be allowed to leave. All the checking took up at least twenty minutes of her time each time it happened. The building was sealed at 5:45pm every night, without fail. So at exactly five, there was a rather rude announcement over the PA system for 'all employees to gather their belongings and quickly and orderly proceed to the exits' as 'the building will be sealed in forty-five minutes' and 'anyone who has not completed the checking out process before 5:40pm will not be allowed to leave and will have to remain in the security centre overnight'. It was tough shit. The company's excuse was 'Security reasons' and – the Powers That Ruled Every Company with an Iron Fist – Health and fucking Safety. But how is being checked four times just to be able to sit at her desk 'Health and Safety'? Didn't they just do things like stick stupid signs everywhere with stuff like 'Mind the Stairs' written on them?
Anyway. Work was a bit difficult at times. Particularly with the weird machines that she was supposed to pretend didn't exist. They were huge blocks of metal with blue lights on them and a curvy top, which she had seen people lie on at times. When she had been given the job and shown to her booth, she had tried to ask the man about them but he had been very rude and told her, in no uncertain terms, that she wasn't important enough to the company to be told about them, and that her only job was to type things up. And if she caused any trouble, she'd be gone with no prospects in a heartbeat. So she didn't ask. The people in charge, anyway. There was a man in his forties who sometimes walked with her in and out of work that she chatted to. He had told her that the machines were called 'Animuses' or 'Animi'. He didn't tell her what they were for or what they did, because he didn't know himself. He only knew their name from reading a file that he shouldn't have a few weeks before. He'd told her this in the elevator. He didn't turn up for work the next day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. On the fourth day, a new man was shown to his cubicle. Gracia kept quiet after that.
She was brought out of her thoughts by a small 'ping!' by the computer. An e-mail. Clicking on it, it read;
'Gracia Roberti, please report to Warren Vidic on Floor nine by 11am. Print this e-mail to hand to Security. Research Department.'
Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was already 10:15. Slipping her shoes and coat back on whilst the e-mail printed, she picked up her bag and put it on her shoulder. Taking the paper from the printer, she left her office and proceeded to the elevators. She showed them her ID card, to which the guard nodded at and punched in the code for the elevator. Waiting in the awkward silence, she glanced at the paper again. Confused by its lack of detail, she looked up when the elevator doors opened. Stepping in and politely smiling to the guards, who just ignored her, she pressed the button for the ninth floor. The doors closed and they rode in silence. Keeping her eyes roaming and her head moving, she was silently grateful when the doors opened and she was free to step out.
Having never been on the ninth floor, she quickly glanced over to a map of the floor and mentally noted the direction that she needed to go in. Coming to a set of double doors guarded by two armed men, she stopped a few feet away from them, shuffling nervously.
"Hello, I'm Gracia Roberti, I was told to come and see Warren Vidic." She explained in a timid voice, offering the e-mail to one of them. The one of the left took it and examined it, before nodding and entering the code on the keypad to open the doors. Murmuring a 'thank you', she stepped in, her heel clicking on the metal floor. The room was large and open with plenty of light. In the centre stood a machine, a solid black of polished metal with a low blue glow, with a blonde woman standing at the computer and a man with grey hair and matching beard standing on the opposite side of the machine reading a file. He didn't look up as she approached slowly. When she got close enough, she spoke up again.
"Hello, I'm Gracia-"
"Roberti. Yes. Warren Vidic." He said in a short tone.
"Nice to meet you, Sir."
"What's going to happen now is a simple routine check, we do this to all our employees. Your file says that this is your first time in the Animus."
She paused. Her first time? Was she going to use this one? Why? "Pardon, Sir?"
He sighed with frustration. "Have you ever used one of these machines before?"
"No, Sir."
He frowned. "Do you even know what an Animus is?"
Annoyed by his tone but determined to be polite, she answer, "No, Sir."
He closed her file and looked at her. "Well then, climb on and I'll explain."
!"!
A/N: Little note; Gracia's name is pronounced 'Gra-cha' because in Italian, a C followed by an I makes a 'ch' sound