Unfathomable as everything here was, it looked little different from the command center. Looking at the tower's design, he saw wide spaces of flat gemmetal tinged with a purple and magenta coloration. It was easy on the eyes, Zan thought. Colored metal seemed to be a feature of old technology civilizations. Black for the command center; white for the Backroads chamber; and now this purple, blue-ish hue.

Churning in his mind the complexities of ancient society along with their architectural philosophies as he waited for something to happen, Zan heard a voice. The voice was loud and dominated the air. Attempting to find who spoke, Zan looked in every direction he could tilt his head before admitting defeat. "Who is speaking?" Zan asked. "It's the intercom, boy," Winters said. Intercom? Must be a city thing?

The voice said "Attention" several times before settling into a pattern. "Attention: Guests in Atrium: a senior director will see you now," the female voice said from devices called 'speakers' which Winters pointed out for Zan.

"I'm taking it the senior director is the boss of a place like this?" Zan asked, Winters in an easy patrol near the front of the warrior-circle protecting the civilian clutch in the center.

"Yes. He is somewhere high in the rankings of this place. He will either grant us or deny us passage."

"If he doesn't like us? Rebel time, yeah?" Zan asked.

"If he doesn't allow us to pass? Let's hope we don't come to that pass. Because if we do, no one will have a fun time." Winters said, directing his horse to a gate near a part of the atrium stationed by armed guards. Climbing down from Winters's horse, Zan was happy to be stretching his legs. He and Winters walked through the person-sized gate stationed by the guards and were ushered into a small office. Inside, the office was not made from the same materials as tower's original construction, suggesting to Zan the workers and supervisors here did not do all of their working and living in the tower.

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Zan and Winters took a seat before the senior supervisor. Piles of parchment filled with desk along with fly-ridden meal trays. Zan could not get a good look at the papers, but he saw tables and graphs with lines of numbers. The supervisor finished his work at a turnstile desk in the corner before addressing Winters and Zan. "I am told you want safe passage from one part of the war zone to another part. One where one faction's allies are mustering? Is this correct?"

"Whether one side is mustering or not I do not know, good sir," Winters said. "What I know about is how I need to protect those who can't protect themselves. I need to get these fair folk out of this battlefield. That-there city? T'ould be the perfect place," Winters said, using the formal version of 'it would' instead of the more familiar and commoner pronunciation of simply saying it in full. Zan wondered if it was necessary for Winters to show off his formal education.

The supervisor looked at Zan and Winters closely. "Who is he?"

"My assistant," Winters replied, looking in the supervisor's eyes.

"Your... assistant?" the supervisor repeated. The man looked at Zan for an uncomfortably long time.

"Is there a problem?" Winters said, calmly.

The man continued to stare. "He... just reeks, is all."

"Yes. Well, he is a young man and could have better health habits, but what can you expect of the youth in war?"

"Yes. Verily-on-a-hairly," the supervisor said. Zan did not recognize the words or expression, let along what the supervisor meant. Continuing, the supervisor said, "I will grant you provisionary passage."

"Excellent! Thank you, sir! Thank you!" Winters said. Zan beamed broadly to show his happiness at the decision.

"If you damage anything, though, I will be billing your government. Am I understood?"

"Of course. Let me make it know, however, we are not officially under our master's employ. We are his subjects but nothing more--"

The supervisor interrupted. "I don't care. I am still billing them. Okay? Now, before you leave, let me inform you of the conditions of your contract and--"

Now, it was Zan's turn to interrupt. "Wait? Contract? What do you mean? I thought you were letting us pass?"

"I am, child. I am not letting you pass for free, though. You will earn your passage. And you will earn it by working."