It was late, and Attica was very tired. Her lengthy red hair had long since escaped from its kerchief and portions of it were straggling merrily around her face like a bonfire, while others were doing their best to become part of the skin on her forehead. She pulled a handkerchief from the butt pocket of her coveralls and wiped futilely at the sweat on her face.

As she walked down the corridor on her way to the atrium, she noticed the door of the maintenance office was wide open. Having neglected to greet the new occupant, she stopped at the doorway and snuck a look inside. Piles of books and photographs met the woman's eyes as she scanned the room approvingly. She took a step inside the room.