This floor was a bit different from the previous ones. The tiles beneath their feet were a silvery grey, just like the ones on the previous floors, but in the centre of the floor was a large circular room with shiny royal blue tiles encompassing it. When Cloud walked onto them and looked down he could see his own reflection staring back at him. They opened the door to the circular room and stepped inside to see a huge model replica of Midgar standing before them.
"A model of Midgar… Born from Mako sucked right out of the earth," Cloud whispered to himself.
A lot of detail had been put into it. It wasn't just a model. It had a lot of electrical components too. The Shinra Headquarters was sat proudly in the centre like a huge monument, its outer walls shining brightly as each tiny window lit up bright white as if a symbol of its immense power. The slums were hidden away. Of course, they would be. If any of the hierarchy from other companies were shown this model replica, the last thing Shinra would want to showcase was the slums.
Tifa looked longingly at the Sector 7 plate, her eyes heavy with heartache. Even though the slums weren't present in this false Midgar, you could see her eyes envisioning the Sector 7 slums beneath. She was a strong woman who had built a life for herself; and even though the slums were a terrible place, she had created a little drop of paradise inside that bar, a place where it was warm and people were happy. And now it was gone, all thanks to Shinra.
They decided to leave the room and scout for a keycard that would allow them access to a higher floor. They eventually found it hiding in a box stuffed in the corner of a small room that looked and smelled like it hadn't seen the light of day in a very long time. Whoever the keycard belonged to, they clearly didn't need it now. Cloud wondered what had happened to the former worker. Had they simply left Shinra or were they fired? Maybe something much worse had happened to them. Either way, the keycard was theirs now and they intended to use it.
The floor above seemed bigger and brighter than its counterparts beneath it. This wasn't just any floor. While it still took on a clinical feel, it also had an air of opulence to it. It was not present in the décor but Cloud could feel the importance emanate from within its walls. A huge room took up most of the centre space and Cloud was sure he could hear voices coming from inside.
"It must be a conference room," Cloud said. "We ought to listen in if we can. We might get important information."
"But how?" Tifa inquired.
"There's gotta be a way," Barret responded.
"Let's look around," Cloud advised.
They traversed the floor. Smaller rooms surrounded the conference room and most had their doors open. Peeking in and realising the rooms were occupied, they rushed to another room. Its door was locked. WC was written on it.
"A toilet?" scoffed Barret. "This ain't no time for that, we got to save Aeris."
"Trust me," Cloud simply said. He didn't have time for this.
They opened the door to the WC. It was a small bathroom with two tiny cubicles in the lower-left corner and two urinals along its left wall. It smelled pleasant enough with just a faint aroma of pine-scented toilet cleaner in the air. Cloud opened a cubicle, looked up and found what he was looking for.
It was an air vent, large enough for even Barret to climb through. If luck would have it, there would be a conjoining air vent set into the ceiling of the conference room. With a small nod, the trio climbed up into the vent and crawled through. The space was tiny and breezy, but the air inside was warm and smelled stale. They crawled through until they came to another vent. Cloud looked down. This was the conference room all right.
A huge fancy table stood in the centre of the room. People were sat around it, many of which Cloud had never seen before. They were all suited, booted and preened. These guys were at the top of their leagues and they knew it. The President was sat at the right-hand side of the table and was rapping his knuckles on its polished surface.
"Geez! That's a lotta suits!" Barret whispered.
"We have the damage estimates for Sector 7," a man with slick black hair in a dark coloured business suit began. "Considering those factories we already set up and all the investments, the damage is estimated at approximately 10 billion gil…"
"We're not rebuilding," President Shinra sharply stated.
"What?" gasped the businessman.
"We're leaving Sector 7 as it is," he continued. "And restarting the Neo-Midgar plan."
"Then the ancients?"
"The Promised Land will soon be ours. I want you to raise the Mako rates 15% in every area."
"Rate hike! Rate hike!" sang a fat man in a dull brown business suit. "And please include our Space Program in the budget!"
The president cleared his throat, took a sip of water and continued, "Reeve and Scarlet will divide the extra income from the rate increase."
"Oh man!" cried the fat man excitedly.
"Sir," began the black-haired man. "If you raise the rates, the people will lose confidence…"
"It'll be alright," replied the President. "The ignorant citizens won't lose confidence, they'll trust Shinra, Inc. even more."
A huge man sporting short black hair and a beard to match, wearing a green, red and black military-style uniform suddenly erupted into a huge belly laugh.
"After all, we're the ones who saved Sector 7 from Avalanche!" he bellowed.
"That dirty bastard!" Barret hissed, trying desperately to keep his composure.
They continued to watch the scene unfold beneath them and heard the door slide open. A middle-aged man wearing a long white lab coat shuffled towards the table with his hands behind his back. He was an odd-looking fellow with a crooked posture, his thinning black hair pulled back into a loose ponytail.
"Hojo," President Shinra said. "How's the girl?"
"As a specimen," Hojo began," she is inferior to her mother. I'm still in the process of comparing her to her mother, Ifalna, but for now the difference is 18%."
"How long will the research take?" he questioned.
"Probably 120 years. It's probably impossible to finish in our lifetime. Or in the lifetime of the specimen too, for that matter. That's why we're thinking of breeding her. Then we could create one that could withstand our research for a long time."
"What about the Promised Land?" asked the President. "Won't it hinder our plans?"
"That's what I need to plan. The mother is strong… and yet has her weaknesses."
President Shinra cleared his throat and addressed his team.
"That concludes our meeting."
The big wigs shuffled quietly out of the room. A blonde woman wearing a long red dress looked up at the air vent. For a second, Cloud thought they had been spotted.
"Something stinks…" she said to herself before sashaying out of the conference room. She must have been able to smell the bathroom as its scents wafted through the air vents.
"They were talking about Aeris… right?" asked Cloud.
"I dunno," mumbled Barret.
"Probably," Tifa said glumly.
"Let's follow 'em," Cloud directed.
They left the bathroom and crept through the corridors of Floor 66. They rounded a corner and saw the professor named Hojo shuffling towards the stairwell.
"Hojo… huh?" Cloud wondered.
They waited for him to enter the stairwell and then followed him onto the next floor.
To be continued…