Pilot: Arriving at Warehouse 13

Myka managed to sort out the ride fairly quickly, telling me that a plane was a mode of transport that can get you over long distances by flying through the air.

We were sitting in our seats just looking through our folders. All mine consisted of was a page saying my name and gender and that I was know an Agent working in South Dakota. I was sitting next to the window as I looked out to see what was apparently endless blue sky and clouds, Pete was sitting in the middle and Myka next to the isle.

"They said it was a promotion... a promotion," Myka breathed out.

Pete started flicking through his folder before saying, "it's a hell of a promotion. Pay increase class bump. a full packet promo..."

Myka dropped what she called a boarding pass in his lap. "South Dakota? They're sending us to South Dakota? What I want to know is why they've put these on top," she asked, gesturing to something in her folder.

I looked at Pete's as he flipped back to the front and read 'U.S. Secret Service - Declaration of nondisclosure/Privacy pledge.' Pete's signature at the bottom.

"Yeah, so? Everybody signs one of these before working in the White House."

"But we no longer work in the White House," Myka countered. "This plane is gonna dump us fifteen hundred miles from the White House. So why stick these in front of all the goodies in our promotion packets? Where could they possibly be promoting us to in South Dakota...?"

We arrived the next morning and it seemed they got given directions as they bought a car, another mode of transport, where we journeyed to a uninhabitable place. We ended up standing next to the car staring up at this plain, rusty-looking building that only had the number 13 on it painted in red.

I noticed a cow over buy the side of us, "Hey guys, what's that?" I pointed at it making them look over.

"That a cow," Pete replied. "A skinny cow."

We turn back to look at the building, "yeah, real important..." says Myka.

I see Pete pull out something. "Hey Pete...?"

"It's a cell phone."

"Hey, be nice. It allows us to communicate," Myka explained, I shot her a grateful smile. "What are you doing?" she asks Pete.

"You go see if there are any other kids your age. Daddy's gonna make a phone call." He starts moving about, holding the cell phone above his head. We share a look, me of confusion her derisive, before we start walking towards the building, our curiosity piqued. We notice the huge door looking up, shielding our eyes from the sun, till we see the top of the building.

"What goes in that puppy...?" I was definitely confused by what she said.

We both look back down to see a small, rectangular door about the size of us and both walk forward towards it. "Hello, anybody here?" Myka opens the door and we both stand in the dark doorway, she finds a switch and the light comes blindingly on.

We gasp when we see a man standing in front of us. "You From last night..." she trails off when we notice Artie's stare is directed menacingly towards us.

"I bid you... welcome..." he growls out.

But then he grins, "I have always wanted to say that!"

We just stare at him, "but a 'course you need visitors to do that..." he smiles widely at us. "My names Arthur. Arthur Nielsen." Myka suddenly ignores him, looking around the room. "And you are Agent Bering. Myka Bering. You are Miss Brooke, Alexa Brooke," he says to us each in turn.

"What is all this?" Myka asked. "What exactly do you do hear?"

"Don't you mean, what do we do here?" We realise Artie is including us in the 'we'. "Are you two alone? I thought Agent Strong..." he trails off, all of us noticing Pete standing in the doorway. "...was with you," Artie finished. Pete moves up to Myka and me before he notices Artie and recognition dawns on his face.

"You!" he turns to us, "he was the guy, the other night."

We both nod, "okay, so what is this place?"

Myka suddenly sniffs, "is that you smelling like that?" Pete and I sniff and smell it too. We hear a "mooo..." from the cow outside as Pete looks down at his muddy shoes.

"Name's Arthur. Arthur Nielson. Agent Arthur Nielson."

"Agent?" Myka and Pete say at once.

"You're with the department?" Myka asks Artie.

"Sure. Been in the service for thirty on years come next February. I for sure gotta outrank both a' you but we don't stand on ceremony much around here. you can all call me Artie."

"That's it? That's our new assignment. We work here, with you?"

"That wasn't very nice Pete. I'll be happy to work here, I get to see real life artefacts," I started off talking to Pete before I turned to Artie for the last sentence.

Artie nods cheerfully, "so, who wants a tour?"

"Me!" I say straight away, smiling widely. Artie chuckles at my enthusiasm.

He takes us through a huge room filled with boxes, odd-shaped bundles wrapped in rope, even more items pilled up high overhead. I was just looking around us all in wonder at all the artefacts that I've read about while Artie explained to us about the Warehouse.

"The original warehouse was built in 1867 to house unclaimed artefacts collected during the Civil war. That building burned down in 1867."

"The same year it was built?" Myka asks.

"Completely understandable. We're not far from the Black Hills here. Native American Burial grounds all over the place, we're a convergence point for continental tectonic accretion, blackbody radiation, you name it. Direct or Dish TV around here? - forget about it. Witnesses at the time of the fire reported seeing strange green flames and a sudden exodus of tormented souls from the ashes..." I seemed to be able to understand what he was saying, when I didn't when I first arrived, and I didn't like it. Pete, Myka and I share a look. Wondering if Artie is alright. "At least that means the souls are probably gone now..."

"How exactly do you know when a soul is tormented?" Myka asked Artie.

"When they've got the same expression that I've got right now..." Pete said. Then he asks Artie, "what is all this junk anyway?"

"A little bit of - everything. Warehouse 13 is like - America's attic Anything the government finds, doesn't know what to do with, they send it here. Or if there's something out there that's acting up... we go out, pick it up..."

"Acting up?" Myka asks.

"Most of the stuff here is, as you say... just junk," Artie whispers the last bit he said.

Myka whispers back, "why are you whispering?"

"Because there's also the junk here that isn't junk."

"And you're whispering because... the junk that isn't junk might be listening?" Pete asks.

Artie looks around, "you never know..."

"What the hell is this place?" Myka asks, her voice back to normal, arms crossed against her chest.

"In addition to the commonplace sent to be stored here, there are... other, special items. Items that, well, need to be kept safely away from the public... away from the innocent and the vulnerable... Items with certain... properties..."

"Properties?" asks Pete.

"You mean the artefacts, don't you Artie?" I ask. I gathered that from his description as I knew the Artefacts were very dangerous, some more so than others.

"Correct, my dear. There are things in this world that defy normal scientific explanation. We here at Warehouse 13 are the very last line of defence against the havoc they can..." he trailed of looking at something Pete was holding. "Where did you pick that up?!" It was a dented, tin coffee pot. "Where did you pick that up?!"

"I just... I picked it up. "What's the big deal...?"

I knew what that was. "That's the Tea Kettle, it can move itself around unnoticed. It grants wishes, but if someone grants a wish that cannot be granted it produces a ferret."

They stared at me in shock for a few seconds before Artie shock his head and continued to reprimand Pete, "it wanted you to pick it up! They do that sometimes. They want to be picked up, to be touched, to show what they can do."

"Would you feel better if I put it down?" Pete asks Artie like he's talking to a child.

"Yes! No!"

Myka then snatches the kettle from Pete and turns it over to look at it. "So that's what it does then?"

"Do not rub it!"

"Rub it? Rub it? You mean like Aladdin's lamp? This appliance grants wishes? Super. I got a wish, believe me I got a wish."

"No!" Artie shouts.

Myka closes her eyes and rubs the artefact and rubs, she opens her eyes and smiles derisively. "Nope, still stuck here in America's attic. I think your magic coffee pot has lost its... gahh!" A guinea pig pokes its nose out from under the lid of the coffee pot making her drop the pot. Pete, really fast, manages to catch it before it disappears.

"Ahh, it's so cute!" I say, heading of to Pete and taking the animal off him so I can pet him.

I don't notice everyone smiling at my care of the animal but I do look back up when Artie reprimands Myka. "You're very, very fortunate you generated something so harmless, Agent Bering."

"It was, it was in there already! It had to be..."

"No it wasn't. I'd already looked inside the pot. It was empty."

We all look to Artie where we both share a knowing grin. "Properties?" Pete asks. We both nod before Artie crooks his finger at us. I rush up to Artie and slip my arm with his, continuing to look around with wonder.

He us into a room that took all of our breath away. Infinite space. It was a room that spread for beyond the eye can see. Filled with crates, shelves, hanging nets of items. Some of them appeared to be flying though it was hard to tell as the room was dark. We could hear a mix of sounds: animals, machinery grinding and what sounded like a very distant heavenly choir...

Wait a moment, how did I even know that? I've never heard a choir nor knew what it meant before just know. It seemed I was just getting tons and tons of information whizzing around my head. But I just shrugged, I can figure it out later.

"How is this even...?" Pete started to ask, sounding awed by the scene before us though I think we all are.

"It should have it's own weather..." I don't have a clue on what Myka was talking about. How can the weather be inside a building? Though I suppose I am an example of an annomale as I just appeared here only after years of staying in the same rooms and learning all I can about different artefacts.

"We're dug back into the mountain here," Artie explained to us. "Got enough of those special items, the government wants them buried as deep as possible."

"How many of these are the special ones?" Pete asked Artie, looking like he amost doesn't want to know.

Artie shrugs, "ten percent. Mabye more. That's the fun of it. The challenge. I get to figure out which items are the special ones. And gotta figure out without letting them do what they do to me.2

"All items are special, Artie. Everything has meaning in life."

"No, no, no. You can't be doing that, my dear, 'cause if you are then you're getting wise and you don't want to be seen as old as I am do you?"

"Why, what age are you Artie?" Pete asked jokingly.

Artie just ignored him and carried on with what he was saying before I interrupted. "I've gotten slow though. I'm not up to the field work any more. Theght, the President, that never should have happened..." he trailed off, looking guilty. so I bumped my shoulder with him and gave him a bright smile to show him that I didn't blame him for what happened. e smiled brightly at me in return and carried on, "but, now, finally- i've got the help I need!"

A few seconds lter Pete and Myka suddenly grab their mobile phones, tha information arriving in my head the second I saw them, and then they raced out back the way we came. Artie and I exchanged a concerned look before rushes out after them. We spot them n a little, muddy brown hill, a few feet a way and were trying to get a signal (also some information that poped into my head).

It seemed they were having two different conversations.

Pete was saying, "I'm trying to reach Senator Jacobs! Jacobs! I worked his security detail when he ran for President last year." He listens to the other end of the phone before, "my name is Agnet Peter Strong. He knows me. Tell him I his help. I've been given this new assignment. I'm in South DaKota, the bung hole end of South Dakota. Someplace... I guess it's called Warehouse 13. I..."

Myka was saying, "Promotion?! They call this a promotion? I'll tlk to anybody I have to talk to. I'll go back to my old pay rate, I'll go back to my old two pay rates. I just want out of here." She looks around her, though not in our direction. "Well, somebody somewhere in the department sent me South Dakota. In this bizarro Warehouse ith a big thirteen on it.

Suddenly, there was a huge, loud screech coming from their phones, making the pull them away from theirears and cover them. The soon put them back to their ear again and I could just barely hear what was being said. "Code six seven six. It had been directed that a users of this phone line may be in the process of disclosing information of a highly classfied nature. For this reason, this call is being terminated effective immeadiatly. This call is being terminated immeadiately. Terminated imead- " then it just stops, making both Pete and Myka look at each other in confusion and disbelief.