"Uh, hi, " I responded inanely, rapidly trying to think of a reasonable explanation. The security guard stared at me, impassive and hard. Using the bathroom on a completely different floor was unlikely to work. "I came up here to see if my friend was still around. I didn't see them downstairs," I lied, trying out a friendly and hapless smile.

The security guard held a hand up and walked forward, smoothly exiting the elevator and maneuvering me backward into the elevator lobby. He eyed me suspiciously for a moment, then put a hand onto a radio hanging off his shoulder.

"Can you give me the name of this person?" He asked.

"Bruce. Bruce Paap." I gave the first IHS employee name I could think of.

The guard activated his radio and said, "Gunil, do we have a Bruce Paap employed in IHS?"

I sweated for a moment, while we both waited for an answer.

The voice came back over the radio, "Yeah, looks like that's a recent term. They're on the Do Not Enter list. Is that him up there?" Shit, Bruce was fired. He was definitely upset when I saw him last. Maybe this was why?

"Thanks Gunil, I'm checking it out," he replied, not taking his eyes off me. "Can I see your ID, ma'am?"

"Sure," I swung down my bag reached in to pull out my wallet. I got out my ID and handed it over. This was not going well, but maybe I could still talk my way out. I couldn't see any other options to get me out of this mess.

The guard looked at my ID, and spoke into his radio again, "Can you check on a 'Mairead Carrigan'?" Surprisingly, he pronounced them both correctly on the first try. He spelled out both names to his partner, then let go of the button on the radio, "What company are you with, Ms. Carrigan?"

"Complyze," I replied, and he relayed that to his colleague. He made no effort to return my ID, so I slung my bag strap over my shoulder. "Uhm, did I hear him say Bruce was let go? I was supposed to meet up with him at the event tonight." I tried to balance my voice with equal parts question and concern.

He watched me dispassionately. "What kind of business were you both planning?"

"Oh, it wasn't business. At least not directly," I lied. "It was a social call. He did some work for us a while back, and I wanted to stay connected." I tried to look only mildly distressed, which was an effort given how my brain was screaming at me. "Fired, though? He never said."

The guard said nothing in response, simply waited there. It was so tense, I'd left the inventory screen up, and was trying not to look away or do anything suspicious. As I was thinking of what to do next, the radio sounded.

"Yeah, no 'Mairead Carrigan'."

"Thanks," he replied, then changed his stance slightly, and motioned me over to a side table between the two elevators. "Ma'am, we have you entering the offices on this floor, unescorted and after hours, on our surveillance cameras." Crap, I can't believe I completely forgot about security cameras. Apparently, they don't show up on my Map. "If you're here with innocent intentions, I apologize for the inconvenience. But I'm going to have to ask you to empty out your pockets and submit your bag for inspection."

"What do you mean?" I blurted out. This was not good.

"If you're here for why you said you were, we can resolve this pretty quickly. Otherwise, I'm going to have to ask you to come with me down to the security office." He seemed calm, but there was a tenseness about him that indicated his seriousness.

Well, I'm fucked. With incriminating papers in my pockets, I was sure to be discovered. I moved over to the table and slowly started reaching in and checking each of the empty pockets of my jeans one at a time, mind racing for an exit all the while. I wondered if I could simply use the inventory screen to move the papers from one pocket to the next, if that would work. Or to my bag and back. I focused on a place at random and willed the papers to move there. I felt them disappear from my coat pocket, the volume of the pocket deflating slightly. I finished 'emptying' my other pockets, and put my hands in my coat pockets. Nothing there but my keys. I set those on the table, then slipped off my backpack off my shoulder and put it down next to them, and stepped away indicating that was all. In the back of my mind, I wondered where the papers were. I quickly scanned the inventory screen, but couldn't find them. Shit.

"Please lift your arms while I inspect your person to verify your compliance." I refocused on the guard as he put on some purple latex gloves, and swiftly moved in to give me a pat down. He'll find the papers where they're still on me, even if I don't know where. I gulped, trying to scan and find them quickly, and hopefully swap them while he wasn't paying attention. But the guard moved in and finished his pat down efficiently, and stepped away. He asked me to step back from the table, and took a look through my belongings. For some reason, everything seemed jumbled and out of place on my inventory screen, so it took me the whole time the guard was searching my things to find the papers. They were in 'handbag'. I focused back on the guard, who was peering with a penlight into the large compartment of my bag, and shifting things around with a gloved hand.

Oh shit oh shit oh shit.

The guard then set the bag aside, turned off the penlight, and then picked up and held out my phone. "Can you unlock your phone and show me?"

"Uh, what?" I responded in a daze. What about the papers?

"I need to verify you don't have any intellectual property, ma'am. Please unlock your phone."

"Yeah…sure," It was a fairly uncomfortable feeling, like being asked to undress. But I could tell the alternative was going to be less pleasant. And my phone was, in this case, the least incriminating thing I had on me. Where had the papers gone? I fumbled with my pin code on the cracked screen and handed the phone back, but the guard didn't take it.

"Can you show me your photos, ma'am?" he said instead.

I walked through and showed different areas of my phone, recent photos, messages, and email as the guard directed, pausing and scrolling when asked. Then he asked me to scroll through the various applications I had within my phone. All the while, I was trying to figure out where those papers went. I looked back over the inventory screen where I saw them listed, then started working my way up the list. I finally realized what I was seeing. This was Bushra's inventory. The papers were listed as being in her bag. What the fuck?!

Apparently all of this satisfied the security guard, and he ultimately returned my ID and said I could pick up my stuff. He called down to his colleague on his radio and moved away. I finished putting my stuff back, and the guard thanked me for my patience. He apologized indifferently for the inconvenience, and escorted me back to the lower floor where the event was held. I tried to ask a question or two about Bruce on the way, but he demurred, telling me to direct my questions to HR on Monday. I left the elevator, and he stayed inside, continuing on down.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

✦ ✦ ✦

I made my way back to the event, which had already moved to the post-presentation socializing. I was glad I had my coat on, as I felt like my blouse was drenched in sweat. Before I rejoined the group, I reopened Bushra's inventory screen, and willed the papers I'd collected back into my coat pocket. They re-appeared with bewildering ease. This was incredible. I felt the onset of a huge headache coming on as I considered the unreality of what had occurred, and what I'd just done.

I wobbled a little as I walked over to where I saw Bushra and Iter standing. Iter saw me first, his eyes landing on me in obvious relief. I felt somewhat lightheaded as I casually waved in their direction.

"Where've you been!" Bushra demanded as I pulled up alongside them both. Her gaze was a strange mixture of accusing and elated. "You missed how amazing I was!"

I looked to Iter for clarification, and he nodded serenely. "Ms. Patel has been quite skillful."

What?

"That's right, I led them right where I wanted them!" The difference between her behavior before I left and now was striking. But for now, I gratefully leaned into her retelling. The adrenaline must've worn off, as I was feeling absolutely wiped. The din of conversation and music playing in the background was overwhelming, and I wondered if there was anywhere we could sit.

"Oh, and you'll never guess what we learned!" Bushra's eyes were bright, but her voice faded into a quiet whisper. Iter was looking at me with what looked like concern on his face, but I let it go to focus on Bushra. "Rumor is that IHS may be acquired by Complyze. The sales engineers were trying to pump me for info about comp plans and the like."

"Acquired?" I repeated. That didn't make much sense. Complyze was a SaaS company, selling software as a subscription service. IHS was a hardware design and integrator. Sure, we worked with them on usb keys and similar custom devices for compatibility, but an acquisition? My head started to throb as I tried to make some kind of connection between this news and what I knew so far.

"That's what they said, anyway," Bushra responded, a little rankled by my tone. "It was just a rumor, but they seemed to believe it." She paused, then picked up her prior jubilance. "I don't know why, but I feel On tonight! I hardly sipped at my drink, but I feel great!" As if to demonstrate, she wiggled her glass of wine at me, then took a gulp.

It was getting harder to focus, and my head was pounding now. I put a hand to my forehead, and it came back damp with sweat. This wasn't an adrenaline hangover. I could hear my heartbeat thudding in my ears, and my face was flushed and hot. "I need some air," I said, and swayed, experiencing a touch of vertigo. This wasn't good. I made an about-face turn and started heading for the elevator. My vision was going blurry, and I could barely retrace my steps without stumbling.

"Mai, what's wrong?" Iter came up to me, but I shook my head and kept walking forward, determined. My eyes were locked on the route to the elevator, my entire being concentrated on every step.

"Hey, what's with that reaction?" Bushra had caught up on my other side, her expression indignant. Then she peered at my face closer. "You're really pale. Are you okay?"

I somehow made it to an open elevator and leaned inside. One of the other two must have pressed a button, since I felt it start to move, but my eyes were closed. I concentrated on breathing. My heart was pounding double time. I couldn't get enough air. What was happening to me?

The elevator took an interminable amount of time to stop and open its doors. I tried to open my eyes, but it was all I could handle to lurch forward. I could feel someone's hand on my arm, pulling me out. I leaned into it, accepting it's guidance. I felt a cold draft on my face that felt oh so good and then suddenly the floor tipped and I heard a woman's voice cry out andIwasfalling…

✦ ✦ ✦

I woke up staring up at the face of a god for the second time in as many days. If this was going to become a thing, I was all for it. Iter smiled gently at me and I could feel his hand stroking the top of my head. Then I remembered IHS, the event, and passing out.

I turned my head and looked about. I was in the elevator lobby on the ground floor of the IHS building. I seemed to be on a bench by the wall. My head was resting on something warm and soft…

I sat up, too quickly. Iter narrowly avoided my head as he leaned back. My head throbbed in answering pain, but I gritted my teeth through it. I turned to look at Iter sitting next to me, the owner of the lap I'd been taking advantage of. At the moment, no one else was nearby.

"Where's Bushra," I asked, wincing at my headache.

"She went to get some wet towels, she'll be back in a moment." He continued to smile and speak softly, watching my face. He seemed attuned to how I was feeling, but strangely unconcerned.

"What happened?" I breathed. What I remembered was fuzzy since leaving the IHS offices, but it looks like I was safe at the moment.

"You fainted after using up all your Focus," he answered. The corners of his mouth dipped slightly in sadness as he peered at my face. "You should be steadily improving, but how do you feel?"

"Honestly, like a truck hit me… again." But he was right, I could feel myself recovering minute by minute. Must be my buddy Still Mind at work. "Using up my Focus?" I queried. "How?"

"We believe you activated a skill, presumably Follow the Leader. It continued to consume Focus until your reservoir dropped almost to zero." He looked at me for confirmation.

"Ah, I forgot." I confirmed sheepishly. Follow the Leader. I turned it on when we signed in, then never turned it off. I checked my journal and saw a bunch of messages gradually describing the exhaustion of my Focus and subsequent lack of consciousness.

"You would do well to remember this in the future. Such a lapse could cause great harm at the wrong moment," he lectured. I endured it with chagrin. Yeah, this could've been a serious problem in front of people. Or behind the wheel. I shuddered.

"I'm lucky you both were here," I said, dipping my head. "Thank you."

Iter accepted my gratitude with a regal nod, then looked at me seriously. "You owe Ms. Patel an apology as well. She was in quite the state. We believe she thinks it is related to your accident," Iter motioned her head forward, and I turned and saw Bushra hurrying over, wet paper towels in hand and obvious relief on her face.

"Mai, are you okay?" Bushra called out as she came close. She sat down next to me, and unexpectedly pressed the wet paper towels against my forehead and neck. Her eyes darted all around me, looking for evidence of damage or injury.

"Yes, I'm alright, thanks to you both," I reached up to take the paper towels out of her hands and held them against the back of my neck. "I'm really sorry for worrying you like this," I began.

Bushra interrupted, leaning back on her heels. "No, I should be the one apologizing, Mai. I knew you'd just come back from the hospital. I should have known you weren't wholly recovered." She looked down and away, and I could see her eyes were wet. "I'm sorry I rushed you into this," she waved one of her hands around, while pressing the side of her hand under her eyes to avoid smearing her makeup.

Woah. A wave of guilt came over me. I was perfectly fine, but there's no way I could tell her that.

"No, it's not your fault," I pleaded. "I'm entirely to blame. I asked you here, didn't I?" I made negating gestures with my hands, trying to wave away our mutual feelings of guilt. "I'm okay, I just didn't realize my own limits. I'm fine," I coaxed.

Bushra looked at me, blinking. Then her head dropped and her shoulders started to quake a little. After a moment she looked up with a giant grin and let out a relieved laugh. "You look like hell," she chuckled. Then ruefully, "I guess I don't look much better." She pulled a tissue out of her bag and began to blot her eyes.

I was quiet, trying to recover my balance. My eyes darted around for somewhere to look while Bushra put herself back together. I folded up the damp paper towels in my hands and looked for somewhere to put them, before simply holding them in my lap. Iter sat primly to the side, not interrupting. He seemed to watch us intently with a measured gaze. I wondered what he was looking for?

"So," Bushra finally broke the silence, slowly standing up and looking down at me. "You're sure you don't need to go back to the hospital? They said our insurance is good 'til the end of the month," she joked with a crooked grin.

"I'm okay. I just needed to rest." I shook my head, and was gratified that it no longer felt like my brain was rattling around in my skull when I did. "I could go for something to drink, though. Non-alcoholic," I added with a wan smile, but made sure to put some energy into my voice as reassurance. I stood up and Iter followed suit. My stomach took that moment to let out a gurgle. "Food sounds good, too," I added, embarrassed.

Bushra smiled wide, and stepped backwards to look at us both straight on. "Then it's my turn to take you out!" She struck a thoughtful pose, then raised an eyebrow and smirked at us both. "How do you like izakaya?"

"Fucking love 'em," I grinned back.