Uncle Myrddin seemed tense from what I could discern by the way he was holding himself. I couldn't see much of his face under his cowl, but what I could see confirmed the suspicion. He didn't answer my question right away. When he did, his voice sounded distracted, like he was thinking about issues that were far away.
"I'm...not sure." He said, taking the handful of steps to get into the tinker-tech elevator. "I was hoping to be with you for your first day as a Ward and walk you through as much of it as I could, but I may be needed elsewhere."
As he was speaking the doors on the elevator slid silently closed and it presumably began whisking us away to wherever it was we were supposed to be. How did it even know? A part of me felt paranoid at the idea, but it was probably just a remnant of the adrenaline I had from the confrontation with the guards. A few moments barely passed from when uncle Myrddin was speakng to me until his hand reached up and tapped his left ear.
"Myrddin, signing in. What's going on?" He said with a look at me that I interpreted to mean he was apologizing for not being able to wait to do this until we were apart.
I strained to listen to the other side of the conversation, but I didn't even hear a murmur. No luck there, and whatever they were saying on the other side, Myrddin's features stayed under control.
"Affirmative. How long ago was the first one?" He asked.
With uncle Myrddin mostly getting filled in instead of talking, I was left without even half a conversation to try to piece together what was happening. I wasn't getting a lot of information this way. The next time he looked at me, I quirked my eyebrows at him questioningly. He shook his head: he wasn't going to tell me what was happening. I suppressed a sigh.
It was strange how I had been trust into this world with concerns and worries that I wasn't even sure if I wanted to be a part of. Here I was worrying about whatever the big thing the Protectorate and the PRT were worrying about, when I wasn't exactly their biggest fan. The truth was, I didn't want to burn any bridges, but I needed time to process. I didn't want to forcibly cut all ties to the PRT just to wake up in a week regretting that I couldn't go back. Add in to everything else that things were happening too fast and I was having to make too many decisions before I could completely think through their ramifications, and so all I could do was my best to leave as many options open for myself as possible. If I needed time to sort my feelings out, then I would have to just press on until I got the time, and in the meantime, I would just have to do the best I could do was burn as few bridges as possible.
The elevator doors opened as silently as they had closed, which prompted Myrddin to tap his earbud again and say, "Okay. Hey listen. I'll be there in five minutes. Get a meeting scheduled to start in fifteen, we need to get on top of this. I can tell the director."
Finally, he looked back to me as we exited the elevator. "Sorry L...Grab-Bag," he said, glancing around to see if anyone caught his near-mistake. Fortunately there was nobody around, just an office drone down the hallway a bit carrying a box that looked just heavy enough to take seriously and just large enough to be annoying. "I'm going to have to rush through a lot of your first-day stuff, but I'm sure the other Wards will take good care of you." He said, laying a hand on my shoulder to help walk me to where we were going.
His mention of the Wards brought back my worries from earlier in the morning. I had not envisioned meeting my new team right in the middle of some sort of crisis where I didn't even know what was going on. I didn't want to start off my career as a burden that had to be looked after and brought up to speed when time was crucial. First impressions were supposed to be important...and my first impression was probably going to be during a time when everyone had bigger things to deal with. Great, there went my chances of forming tight-knit friendships with the people I could rely on like in all the teenage-hero sitcoms.
Uncle Myrddin didn't give me nearly enough warning when he said, "This is Director McCurdy's office." Just before rapping his knuckle a single time against the door, then turning the knob and letting himself in.
Instead of doing something useful, my mind instead latched onto the wooden name-plate just to the left of his door. Yep, it said 'Director Steven McCurdy' all right. How useful to verify that, of all things.
My gaze swept into the room and to the polished wooden desk that seemed nearly too large for the space, but too small for the workload on top of it. His work was arranged into neat piles that left the impression that he had a lot of work to do, but also that he stayed on top of it. McCurdy himself seemed less disheveled than when I had seen him previously late in the evening. He had paused as we entered, a pen poised over some form or another with a very official-looking seal at the top.
After seeing who had entered his office, he gestured to us to enter, then finished signing the document, stamped it with a self-inking stamp, and stuck the single page into a piece of equipment that seemed to scan it-either a fax machine or a scanner. During this, Myrddin entered and held the door for me, closing it after I stepped inside.
"Ah, Lily wasn't it?" At my nod, McCurdy continued. "Well, welcome to the Wards. Jason there has signed all the guardian oversight documents already for permission, so we'll just have to get both of your signatures on one or two more things, and then you'll officially be a Ward! Well, a probationary Ward anyway. But the 'probationary' part will go away once Jason becomes your legal guardian." He said as he shuffled some papers around, then scooted over to a filing cabinet and rifled through it.
He brought out a file, extracted two separate stapled documents, and splayed them before uncle Myrddin and I to sign.
'This one," he said, moving the one in his left hand just enough so we would know which he was talking about, "basically says that you will obey your commanding officer and that the PRT is allowed to tell you what to do. And that you'll do it. And this one," he continued, moving the decidedly thicker document in his right hand this time, "says that you relinquish all proprietary rights over strategies or other ideas that you have. This covers stuff like tinker-tech, but it's a lot more general than that. It basically says that anything you think up is still yours, but that the PRT or Protectorate can legally use any idea or blue-print you have any way that they see fit."
Uncle Myrddin took the offered pen and flipped to the last page. His signature looked tiny and slightly uneven on the line when he moved onto the next document, putting the same undersized signature on it. Then he held the pen out to me. When I went to take it, however, his grip stayed tight on it, not allowing me to extract the pen from his hand.
"I've read over every revision of each of these documents as part of my job as the leader of the Protectorate North. Even so, I should have at least skimmed over these if I wasn't in such a hurry. Read these carefully before you sign them and make sure that you agree with them fully." He said, his tone making it clear how serious he was about legal documents.
I nodded. A small part of me found it exceedingly funny how serious he was taking all of this, but I understood the reason. I'd seen too many movies where somebody signs something without reading it and binds themselves to something horrible that they only learn about much later. Not a mistake I was planning on making.
Uncle Myrddin released the pen and turned to Director McCurdy. "I've scheduled a meeting in ten minutes about the..." his eyes darted to me, then away. "...Master/Stranger issue. If you have the time, I would appreciate it if you could attend so we can try to get ahead of this thing. I can call in some heroes if you're getting too short-staffed."
McCurdy nodded. "Go on then, Myrddin." He said.
With a single glance in my direction accompanied by a smile, Myrddin's burlap-clad figure had turned heel and departed the room. His absence was jarring. My lifeline, my one ally, had left. Still gripping the pen, I turned my gaze back to director McCurdy.
Just as my mind began thinking about the situation again and I thought to perhaps pry for information from the director, he moved to gather up the forms. "I'm going to take you to my secretary. Joseph can answer any questions you have, and he's a more fun to talk to than I am. I'm sorry, but I have a lot on my plate, just like Myrddin. Joseph will take care of ya'."
Joseph's desk was just down the hallway. When the director had said secretary, I had presumed somebody that gets dry-cleaning or answers the telephone. On seeing his and Director McCurdy's interactions, however, it became quickly apparently that Joseph was more like a second-in-command than a secretary. McCurdy approached the desk with me in tow. "Joseph."
"Sir." Joseph said, fluidly moving from sitting with impeccable posture and typing to standing at attention. Just by the way he held himself, he seemed like a very by-the-book sort of guy. Which many people might use as an insult. Usually, I preferred it. Assuming the book wasn't wrong, of course.
"This is our newest Ward. Make sure she has the opportunity to read through all this paperwork and sign it. Then get her the standard NDAs and introduce her to the team. Tecton can administer the field evaluations." McCurdy said, handing over the paperwork he had carried from his office. "Oh, and she hasn't chosen a name yet. See if PR has any openings today."
Taking the paperwork, Joseph nodded once. "Of course, sir. Anything else?"
Shaking his head, Director McCurdy turned to me. "Sorry I have to pawn you off too. I'm sure you'll fit in just fine here. It's good to have you on the team." He said, extending a hand.
I took the hand and shook it. His hand was almost too large for mine, and his grip was firm. When shaking hands, I always worried that I wasn't squeezing hard enough and this was no exception. I mean, I didn't want to clamp down as hard as I could, because that would be ridiculous...but at the same time, everyone seemed to say that people liked a person with a firm handshake.
Just as McCurdy looked like he was getting ready to leave, Joseph discreetly interrupted. "Sir?"
"Yes Joseph? You can just say it you know." McCurdy answered with a grin. This was apparently a well-rehearsed line.
"Of course sir. Myrddin has scheduled a meeting for nine twenty-five. That's in about ten minutes, sir." He somehow managed to ask even though he never actually uttered a question.
Before the statements-question had even finished being spoken, McCurdy had turned around and started walking away. "Yeah, I already know. Of course I'm going to it, for God's sake."
As McCurdy disappeared into an unmarked door, Joseph's posture relaxed into what movies had informed me was a parade rest. I doubted he ever really relaxed much past that. "Here you are miss." He said, handing me the two packets that he had been handed only moments before. "And the non-disclosure agreement, miss." He said with just the hint of a smile, extracting a third packet from a drawer. "Is there anything else you need? I could get you a drink."
Shaking my head, I took the packets and sat down in a chair across from his desk to read.
[][][][][]
I had done as uncle Jason had wanted and read through everything. A lot of it was legalese that may as well have been in another language for all I could make heads or tails of it. There was a lot of talk about different parties, but I was pretty sure nobody would end up throwing any.
Joseph, for his part, had worked almost fervently. I wasn't sure this was how he always worked, but if it was, he was either a very hard worker, or very good at making it seem like he was. Whichever the case, after I had signed my name the final time and stood up, he had immediately put what he was working on aside to escort me to meet the other Wards.
Even in the elevator, Joseph stood at parade rest. While walking down hallways, he had marched with pinpoint precision. At the time, I had wondered if he felt any frustration that his boots didn't click because of the hallway's carpeting.
Specifically, we were in an elevator headed up or down or some random direction I couldn't be sure of to meet my future team. The Wards. These were some of the most famous people in the city and I was going to meet them! I was going to be them! Okay Lily, don't panic. I realized how ridiculous I looked in my homemade costume. Wait, I didn't even have a name yet! How was I going to introduce myself? No, don't do that, Lily! That's exactly the opposite of what I was just saying to do. I said don't panic! Well, crap. I was panicking.
I forced myself to take a deep breath. Then another. I wasn't sure it was helping, but at least it gave my something to focus on instead of having my thoughts go twirling around in who knows which direction.
The elevator doors opened to reveal another set of doors. They were about ten feet away from the elevator, and they looked a lot more serious. Joseph and I exited into the antechamber and he pushed a button.
Nothing happened.
He turned to me and said, "This is a warning to allow them to meet you in costume. It is strongly encouraged for everyone to reveal their identities to one other, but not required. We'll wait for about a minute so they can prepare." Then he stopped talking.
I wasn't really sure what to say, and so instead I decided that it was more pertinent to silently hyperventilate instead of saying anything.
Eventually, he broke the silence again. "Well, that's probably long enough. Let me be the first to officially welcome you to the team!" He said, a genuine smile breaking out on his face. Huh, he was pretty handsome when he eventually smiled. We shook hands, but this time it felt a lot more natural.
Then, despite the fact that I was a nervous wreck and completely not ready for this, he turned and opened the door.
