After observing the events of the day, you knew already that you'd be busy for quite a while that night. So you waited until the lights clicked off in the bunker and artificial 'night' fell, stripping down to your lightest 'combat' outfit, and making sure all of your buckles and straps are fastened snugly and securely. After waiting a few minutes to make sure nobody is stirring outside your hatch, you turn the gears and open it slowly. You immediately sneak to Furcolow's quarters and return the binoculars you stole the night before.
You may be a compulsive kleptomaniac, but you have morals too. Never steal outright when you can borrow just as easily. And you've gotten your use out of the binoculars anyway, and besides, you promised yourself that you'd never steal something for long enough that the rightful owner would fret at it being missing. After stepping out of Furcolow's room and closing the door softly and gently behind you, you sneak just two doors down to Muffin's quarters, and jimmy the lock. As soon as it's open, you begin searching through her belongings, rummaging through her stuff... searching for... you don't know what. You found something pretty awesome last night in Furcolow's room, maybe you'll find something equally as useful here.
After about four minutes, you hear Muffin begin to stir; you freeze and look carefully over your shoulder, breathing silently, heart pounding in your chest. But after thirty seconds that seem like thirty minutes, her chest begins to rise and fall softly and evenly again, and your pulse rate slowly descends from the plateau that it just skyrocketed to.
You continue to search through her belongings, being even more careful not to make any unnecessary noise. Inside one of her closets you find a sleek, very tight-looking bodysuit that you've never seen her wear, but you admit to yourself that you surely wouldn't mind watching her get into or out of it...
You shake your head, amused but disgusted at yourself. In one of the pockets you find a device like you've never seen before, and you read the side of it, hoping to gain a little more knowledge about this fascinating little gadget. The side reads: Intention Detection Device [IDD]. There is a warning label on the side not to use if you are pregnant, prone to epileptic seizures, or if you have never taken radiology training: this device may cause overexposure to plutonium particles if used improperly.
You mull the name of the device over in your mind: Intention Detection? So you can tell what others intend to do? Interesting. You slip the small device into one of the pouches you carry on your slim waist, and make sure to place everything exactly back as it was; except for the IDD, of course.
You sneak out of her room and continue down the titanium-plated hallway. It's a good thing you're light on your feet and don't wear metallic shoes, otherwise your footsteps would cause an obnoxious 'clank, clank, clank' sound as you crouch-walked through passageways and hatches.
As you skulk through the bunker, you pass door after door:
...Cortana...
...Samus Aran...
...Chun Li...
All these were brave and beautiful women who fought for what was right, but it did not avail them in the end. They perished nonetheless. You stop at the next door. bv310. You decide to try out the IDD on her and see what happens. You focus your attention on getting into her room without disturbing her sleep... carefully... carefully...
...and, you're in. You creep over to her bed, and watch her sleep for a few seconds: so peaceful; tranquil as a child. As if all is right in the world. Not a care of worry on her face, just a sweet half-smile brought on by a pleasant dream. Her jacket lays on the chair in front of the computer desk, she must have been up late again -- as usual. Nothing too suspicious about that, you ponder. But she's asleep now, and here you are, with a brand new device that you haven't even been able to test out yet. And her daytime activity has been well worth questioning, regardless of how innocent she looks in her bed at this moment.
So you feel through your pouch and pull out the IDD gadget, giving a quick glance at the directions, which instruct you to train the device squarely at either of her temples, while watching her chest rise and fall. It is very important, says the document, that the target's breathing be even throughout the entire 25-second process. You take a breath and begin to focus the device at bv310's head, careful to keep it still and not waver.
All of a sudden, you hear a footstep just outside the door. Your heart jumps straight into your throat. You are absolutely positive that you're about to be caught, and you immediately drop the device on the desk as softly as possible and leap across the room to the closet, step in, and close the door most of the way behind you, breathing heavily, suddenly aware that you're sweating profusely.
You wait, watching through the crack of dim light the doorway. Waiting... waiting...
You sit silently crouched in bv310's closet for a good five minutes. You realize that from the time you heard the noise, to the time you were silent in the closet, just under two seconds elapsed. You curse to yourself, and realize that you've gotten slow because you haven't practiced your trade in quite a while before the last two nights. You vow to yourself that next time will be closer to one second, and after waiting five more minutes without hearing a sound, just for good measure, you step out of the closet and make your way over to the bedside desk to pick up the IDD again.
You look down at the screen display; it reads:
Partial result: Inconclusive.
Reacquire subject to continue.
...in yellowy-orange letters. You reset the device and begin the scanning process again, sure to keep a careful eye on her chest, and a careful ear open for any sign of disturbance either in her room or outside in the corridor. After twenty-five seconds, you hear a very soft, yet very rewarding click. You look at the device, and the screen display changes from graphs and diagrams cataloguing the inside of her brain into a more concise result, which displays:
No Malicious Intent Detected.
...in a decisively green color. Surprised at the result, you take the Intention Detection Device and stow it back in your waistpouch, and exit the room quietly. As you sneak back to your own room, you consider your results.
So... she really
is
as innocent as she looks!
you ponder, surprised.
You come to a fork in the passageways: For a second, you contemplate returning the IDD to its owner, but at the last second you reconsider and decide to just return to your room. You've had enough close calls for tonight, and you don't want to push your luck!
You get back to your quarters and breathe a huge sigh of relief as you hear the soft click of the lock behind you, finally. You walk slowly over to your bed, unwinding your scarf from your neck and kicking your boots off softly. You reach behind your back, untying your small yellow bikini top, and lay it gently on top of your dresser. You reach down to your waist; pushing down, you wiggle slowly out of your tight olive-colored miniskirt. Then, finally a bit more comfortable, you pull back the cover of your bed, hop lightly onto the mattress, and pull the comforter up under your chin, curling up on your side into a ball, and snuggling your cheek into your soft pillow...
A minute later, your eyes are closed and you are fast asleep.
