At the entrance to IT, a young man stood wearing the same grey coveralls that Marina wore but with the badge of IT. It depicted the outline of a box with the graphic of a hand, fingers spread wide, within the box. Also according to tradition, he held a platter with tiny round biscuits upon it.
As Marina and the porter approached, the man said the ritual words that were said to everyone who approached the doors of IT and he offered the platter of biscuits, “Life is for Giving.”
Marina took one of the offered biscuits and returned the words, also dictated by ritual. “I forgive.”
She stepped aside while the porter took his biscuit and the words were exchanged. Marina had no idea what the ritual really meant, no one did that she was aware of, save that there was some great wrong done in the past and IT had been involved. Some thought they might have betrayed the silo to the Others at some point, possibly even during the time of the First Heroes. Historians weren’t positive about the answer and so, of course, they gave none and the tradition continued.
When he was done with his words, they entered the wide entrance to IT. Most of IT was freely open to any visitor. The only exceptions were the labs where delicate work was done, the server room, the suit labs and a couple of other spaces. Even in IT, where transparency in all things was strictly adhered to, private concerns such as performance evaluations or personal matters between people required some semblance of privacy. Yet even in those cases, windows cut into the doors to all such spaces were covered only from the exterior so that anything done there would be done under the eye of any person that wished to observe it.
Here in the lobby, this same open attitude prevailed. Turnstiles, long since relieved of the turning arms that might halt entry, formed simple columns of metal that impeded nothing. A conference room walled with glass contained a table and chairs to one side of the lobby and though no one was in there, a pitcher and a few cups awaited anyone who might need to stop and rest or be refreshed.
Marina walked to the other side of the foyer toward the service desk and smiled at the clerk, then quickly corrected herself and added a touch of her fingers to the center of her chest. It was meant as a gesture of sympathy and respect. The young woman wore the badge of IT but also the Badge of Honor. She seemed so young to have experienced the loss of someone from the circle of her primary relations to a cleaning.
The badge, a simple embroidered symbol of the three entwined circles with an X woven through it, was unmistakable and reserved only for those whose parent, spouse or child had performed the ultimate service to the silo that can be done; clean. Given that only one volunteer was selected every few years for cleaning, there weren’t a lot of people who wore that particular badge.
The young woman returned the gesture and the smile and then asked them what she might do for them. Marina’s appointment was confirmed and soon the intercom in IT crackled as her contact was called to the foyer.
Marina turned to the porter, “What’s your name? I’m so sorry that I didn’t ask before.”
He ducked his head, looking a bit bashful now that he was no longer in his comfort zone of the stairwell, “I’m Roddy, Ma’am. Don’t worry about it.”
“Well, I’m where I need to be and I think this will take a while. Why don’t you two go and have something to eat or relax.” She waved toward the empty conference room and said, “I’ll be very happy to rest and put my feet up for a bit if it ends early. Just check in with the clerk when you return and we’ll link up.”
He looked a little dubious but agreed and they parted, him handing her the sack of treasures carefully, as if she might fall down by accepting the slight weight of it.
He left and she saw the IT head’s shadow, the same man who had been sharing such significant and private looks with the head during discussions leading up to the Reclamation Resolution. She thought his name was Tyler or Taylor or something like that, but of course, she couldn’t remember which. He approached and offered his hand. They exchanged banal greetings and Marina noticed how his eyes strayed to the bag in her hand.
She lifted it a little and said, “These are the items. Shall we?”
He inclined his head and motioned for her to proceed down the hall with him. Falling into step next to her, he matched the slow speed of her awkwardly careful gait. “We’re just going to one of the interior conference rooms. Everyone is here since we’re running a bit late.”
Though he said the words without any hint of accusation or blame, Marina cringed inside all the same. “I’m terribly sorry about that. I seem to have overdone it.”
The man smiled a little ruefully and waved the apology away. “It happens more than you think. Especially on the way down when it doesn’t feel like it should be difficult.”
Marina nodded and tucked that small snippet away for when the family make the trip downward again. She peeked into the server room as they passed and marveled at the beautiful simplicity of the towers that contained so much complexity within. Things she had made or repaired lay within those towers and it was nice to see where some of her hard work wound up. She didn’t want to hold up the proceedings any further so she looked for just a few seconds and continued on, the pleasant smell of warm electronics lingering in her nostrils.
They arrived at the end of the hallway at one of the conference rooms, the room number placard no longer remotely legible and the lines incised in it rubbed almost flat. The man opened the door and motioned her in before shutting it behind them. Inside, six people surrounded the small conference table, leaving two chairs empty, presumably for the man and her.
The head of IT, seated next to one of the empty chairs, called out, “Taylor, excellent. Thank you for escorting our guest. And Marina, it’s good to see you. I hope the transport wasn’t too uncomfortable.”
Marina eyed the man, but she read only sincerity and friendliness in his eyes. She nodded slowly and replied, “Yes, thank you for sending it. I do apologize for the delay.” This last she said to the whole group and hoped they could simply let the subject drop.
Introductions were made around the table and though Marina remembered most of them by face she was glad to have their names. The Historian, Greta, exuded an aura of calm but seemed friendly enough when introduced. She was an older woman and had held her seat on the council the longest of any member. Their terms were set at fifteen years. It took Historians such a great length of time to master their craft and they were so few in number that a long term limit was required. Her face was also familiar from the resolution work but Marina had not worked with her directly prior to this moment.
The Resident Affairs member of the council, Darren, was already known to her given their work at creating the resolution in the first place. Piotr, the head of IT, was a non-voting member of the council whose role was to provide information to assist decision making. His presence here today was a bit confusing, as was the presence of his shadow since he had no role whatsoever in this matter. Of the three others, two were voting members and one was a proxy, standing in for the Mayor.
Introductions made, refreshments offered and refused and seats resumed, the group got right down to business. It was Greta who broached the subject of this hurried conference, “We are given to understand that you have discovered interesting items during the reclamation and wish to consult us about them before they are destroyed. Is this correct?”