Stainless Steel Angel
Posted: Sun Feb 07, 2016 8:56 am
...Yet again, the Pillsbury saga causes another spinoff - and yet again, with everyone's favorite majordomo.
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Ari stopped by Building #2 on Saturday after the hockey game. She now sported a #20 Ryan Suter Wild Third jersey, just to annoy that strange man who had attended the game in his Predators gear the previous night. Since the factory was closed for the weekend, she didn't figure she would need to "dress up" for anyone.
She pulled the Mustang in to the gated entrance, next to Chesnut Park. Pressing a code, the gate swung open. As she pulled up to the parking lot, she waved at the security guard who was there. As she pulled up to the garage entrance, she tapped her remote entry code on the specialized panel the boys had installed. The door rose, and she deftly swung the GT into her usual spot.
She tapped a few more commands into the console as she put the 'Stang in park. A moment later, there was a beep from the console, then the front lights for the main shop floor came on as the garage door slowly shut.
Her mind was already pondering the task ahead of her - the reason why she was there on a Saturday - as she climbed out of the car. She'd managed to find a set of keys to that small storage room off the back of her office, and she was intent on clearing it out to make for some useful work space.
Thing is, no one really knew what was back there. The room, from the best guesses that Charlie and Portnoy could determine, was maybe 12 feet by 6 feet - decent enough that it could be repurposed for a server room, or maybe file storage. Portnoy, who'd worked for AHI when the building was last in use back in the late 1990's, said he believed it was used for that - but they never could find the key to it.
Until Al started moving things around at Casa Alexander. Among some of Rock's things they'd found an old keychain set that had "B#2" stamped to a metal tag, and a series of old Sargent keys with various numbers stamped on the foreground. She'd called Portnoy about them, and he was relatively certain one of them was the lock to that door.
"Only two people had keys to that room: Rock and his secretary, Loreen," he explained to her over the phone. "Loreen died the year before we closed B2. Those offices were still being used, even after we'd shut the place down. Rock was using the offices as office furniture storage until his coronary the weekend before September 11."
She had told Al in passing (the brief time he'd been back at the plant) about the keys, and told him she'd like to try to see if she could get in - and maybe get the place cleaned out. He'd assented in a half-heard, "yeah, whatever" comment that was the impetus for her foray into the office today.
She made a quick call to the security guard station, letting him know what she was doing there on a Saturday, then eagerly bounded up the stairs to the office. Had she not been wearing her brand new Wild jersey, she might have flown up to the landing.
She had a guess as to which key might be the magic one; purely by logic, there was one key that had the same stamping on the front (B202103). And, as the key to her own office was numbered 102 - and Al's 101 - it followed that the lock for this unknown room was very likely the 103 key.
She put the key into the lock, and attempted to turn the lock. Nothing at first; the key fit, though. She thought for a moment, then rummaged around in the bottom drawer of her desk. When they'd moved into the old Building 2, the lock to Al's office - and hers - had stuck a lot from disuse. The graphite spray she pulled out had been very useful in getting the tumblers unstuck.
She quickly gave it a spritz into the key hole, then worked the key in slowly, pulling it in and out a few times. Gingerly, she tried to move the key in the lock.
It turned.
She let out a little yelp of victory. Carefully, she unlocked the door, hearing the deadbolt slide open. The door opened with a turn of the knob - though that was a bit difficult, as the internals were a bit rusted as well.
The room was pitch dark. She could see in the dark a bit, but the contrast from the lighting in her office to this room took a moment for her to adjust. She found a light switch - which did nothing. Puzzled, she looked up. There was one light fixture, uncovered, with two empty sockets where there would normally be light bulbs. She shrugged, stepping back out into her office. She had some bulbs in the cabinet next to the door.
Two LED bulbs in hand - and her Wild jersey off - she cautiously spread her wings and flapped a moment to launch herself up to the overhead light. She found herself coughing from the amount of dust she was kicking up, but it was to be expected. She held her breath and quickly put the bulbs in (something she'd done a few times before at her new apartment), then landed back at the doorway.
Cleaning herself up best she could, she cracked open one of the windows to let a bit of outside air into the office. Though it was a typical cold November Saturday in the Twin Cities, the air would refresh some of the dust that had been disturbed by her wings. She re-entered the room, and flipped on the light switch.
What the two new LED bulbs revealed... was yet another mystery.
The room was definitely NOT small by any means. It was actually two floors - one was, indeed, a 6x12 platform with a half-wall, but there was also a spiral staircase that led down... but where?