A/N: Sorry for the hiatus. I was busy. This chapter is a short one, I know- Next one up ASAP. Upside: IT'SSSS ENGIE.

Chapter 10- Brainwave

I'm an overachiever. I pride myself in that. It's what has kept me out of the army and in my position as head administrator of the engineering branch of the GOOD Directorate. But it's a very demanding job. Not everyone can create a vast neural network to be distributed worldwide THAT FEEDS DIRECTLY INTO YOUR THOUGHT PROCESS in three years.

And now I was trying to eliminate the receivers. If I did this right, the network would broadcast directly into our minds, no receivers necessary.

Seven is another thing to think about. That was a project I thought of and proposed myself. And I think he'll succeed. He has been training for around a month now, and will take his position as C.O. by September. My research found his birthday was in July, but even he wasn't sure of the exact date. I had a cake sent to him on the seventh.

On this particular day, I was in my office puzzling over the topic of electrical signals. I was making progress, and would be able to make adjustments to Annie soon. I was working overtime, but it paid off. Progress, progress, progress!

A Directorate worker- a young woman- walked in, holding a paper bag and an envelope. I recognized her. She didn't really have a definite job, but mostly acted as a messenger for whatever items or rare personal documents that needed to be delivered. The front of her hair was slightly streaked with purple. I felt I recognized her from somewhere else… How strange.

"Your lunch, Doc," She said, handing me the bag. God, I hated it when people called me that, but I refrained from mentioning it. "You really should eat a bit, you know," she commented. "You look half dead!" Not your place for commentary, miss. I took the bag, placing it on my desk without opening it.

"Thank you," I said stiffly.

"No problem. By the way, there's a letter from you," She added. "From a Mr. Snipe- I mean, Snippy." She passed me the said letter. Oh great. I should have known- who else sends paper documents?

"Thanks again," I said. "Have a nice day," I said pointedly, hoping she'd take the hint. I couldn't afford useless chitchat. I had to get the first part of the ANNET update out within the month, and every second counted. She nodded, and exited quickly.

I opened the envelope, sighing exasperatedly. It read:

To Dr. A. Gromov,

I have inquired many times about when you will repair the faulty dream composer you gave me due to my incompatibility with ANNET. It has been causing horrific night terrors for me, and you had said you would repair it soon months ago. I had expected you to be slightly more true to your word. Please at least attempt to repair it as quickly as possible or I'm afraid I'll have to file a complaint.

Thank you,

Charles Snippy.

I shook my head, folding up the letter. This again? He had sent a similar letter a month or so ago. I wrote a quick response, recommending a psychiatrist to help with the night terrors. I would have it delivered to him later. I opened the lunch bag and took a halfhearted bite of the sandwich, then put it aside. The woman had been right; I could do with some food- but not this crap.

As I went back to my work, I remembered something. The woman had almost called Snippy "Sniper." I knew I had recognized her from somewhere else- she had been at that horrific gun range. I hate guns, personally. Brutal instruments. I feel intelligence is a far better weapon-not that I'd ever use it as such, but it's true. When you're intelligent, then you know how to get to people. And that can bring them down as easily as any bullet.

Soo… Yep. Also, I somehow have this headcanon of the lady being a messenger in the Directorate, probably mainly between Snippy and Gromov since they are the only ones really using paper messages.
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