Outside, the foreign directors were already lined up on the sidelines, muttering quietly to Colonel and some miscellaneous people that I didn't care about. A variety of different soldiers ran about; some fighting and boxing stupidly at each, while others merely demonstrated how fast they could run or jump…All of it was was just a bunch of parlor tricks. Nothing extraordinary.

416 separated from me, and went to talk to Lydecker about a new mission that was being planned to take down a group of immigrants which had hacked into the Texas facility two days ago, while I sauntered about, aimlessly watching the rest of troops at work. A few of the younger children looked up as I passed them by, but nobody said anything. No one dared to say anything. Yet, just as I had reached the end of the cement pad and was ready to turn back around to continue my frivolous flaunting, someone purposely cleared their throat next to me, trying to get my attention.

Slowly-with definite boredom-I turned in the direction of the person and arched an eyebrow. "May I help you?"

An older male with black hair brought his aged hand up to his forehead in a slow, impatient, salute and responded, "Permission to speak with you, 415."

"What about?"

"Permission to speak, ma'am," he repeated.

"Fine. Here? Or in private?"
"In private, please, ma'am."

"All right, come with me," I ordered, and took him back inside the building where I led him into a side room and closed the door behind us, waiting for him to speak.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked, obviously forgetting to add "ma'am" or "415" to the end of his inquiry. But, I decided not to jump on him for it-not yet, anyway.

"What kind of question is that?" I asked, flicking the lights on behind me.

"Please, 415, answer it."

"No, and nor do I care to know."

"My designation number is X5-711."

"And your point, soldier? That you don't know how to address a superior?"

"My point," he responded with a hint of annoyance in his voice that slid past his darken skin, "is that you should know who I am."

"I don't care who the hell you are."

"You should."

"Don't make me hurt you, soldier. I've already sent an X5 to psy-ops and the hospital with a broken nose, along with giving an X10 some severe nightmares who tried to make me believe she was something that she wasn't-"
"So, Max has found you, then?" he asked.

"What? Her designation number is X10-799. Respect that now, or else I will call Colonel and 416 in here to help take care of you."

"It doesn't matter anymore. Besides," he shrugged, "it'll do me some good to leave this place. Oh, and by the way, her name is Max, not 799." He glanced away, looking out the window behind me. "We've been planning this for awhile."

"What are-Who do you think-" I sputtered, fuming unimaginably. "You're telling me what to do?"

"And my name," he responded, "is Krit." Stepping closer to me, he continued in an angry hiss, "I am not 711. Max is not 799. You think 416 and you are really all that intelligent, but, let me tell you this much: I've been here before. I know the rules of Manticore. I know how they play and think and act. Believe me, you meeting Max and then me isn't any coincidence. I know how to get around here in this hellhole.

"My siblings are gone. Gone. My fiancée-who I loved more than anything-is gone as well. But, you…you-out of all us-who had never even been to Manticore before this, you are the one that triumphs. You should have been killed. They should have eaten you alive just like they did to the rest of us. But, that's the thing I can't figure out. You were the new one without any experience here, and somehow, you've managed to flourish here."

Swallowing because, for a brief moment, I had felt emotions that I was unable to slap away, I challenged, "I don't know who the hell you are. I don't know what you and your little friends have planned here, but you're going to pay for what you've done."

"No," he whispered, "it won't be like that."

"Is that so?" I asked, then, in a flashing movement that the old X5 could not catch, I whipped out my electric stick and jabbed it harshly into his worn side. He bellowed in agony and crumpled to the ground, madly shaking as the voltage ricocheted through him. Finally, when he was still, did I lift my two-way to my mouth and say, "There's a rogue here who assaulted me. I want him taken care of…now."