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| - Nightbeat fades off into the background, and good riddance, because he doesn't match anything at all, right now. "I can't make much sense of the guy; but do let me know if you find anything out." Jetfire hehs softly. "Consider yourselves excused at your leisure." Leaving the others to chat as it is, the air guardian turns to head back into his personal lab, probably to start looking up schematics for the security shielding. Or work more on repairing his busted weapons. Jetfire has left. Arcee follows Nightbeat out, but at a discreet distance. She doesn't really want to get drawn into a conversation with him, but she does need to go speak to the Intelligence people! Such a quandary. James Bailey spends the majority of the trip to meet Mr. Clark giving Andi vague hints that they don't need to bring along anyone else to stand in for the attractive woman role. Along with occasional urging to 'be friendly' and to 'act nice'. And even once an imploring 'that glare doesn't work in every situation'. Andi Lassiter spends the majority of the trip completely missing the point that James is trying to get across to her. Well, other than the 'be friendly' and 'act nice' part. Oh, and the 'try not to glare'. Though that's going to be the most difficult -- this guy's notes. Yeesh. He writes like Yoda. AUTOBOT FLASHY *Dun dun da dun, dun!* AUTOBOT FLASHY And suddenly the humans are in a board room somewhere in New York City. Antonio Clark isn't here, but his assistant, Salsa Kettles is. She paces about, looking really stressed out. She keeps saying things like, "I am REALLY sorry, Mr. Clark will be here shortly, I *promise.*" Andi Lassiter glances up from where she's STILL squinting at her computer, looks at the assistant briefly, then at a convenient wall clock, then at James. Her expression says it all without her having to speak a word -- this guy's knowledge had better be worth this aggravation. James Bailey nods amiably at Kettles. "We don't mind waiting." He hides his intenxe irritation over the delay deep down inside, probably saving it up for the next encounter with a Decepticon. "Every EDC officer knows, these freelance scientific geniuses - you've gotta give 'em some leeway." Andi Lassiter raises her eyebrows at James for that one -- probably for the umpteeth time today. Clearly he's forgotten that Andi herself spent several years as a freelance scientist consulting for the EDC. You know, in between retiring and returning to active duty. And then Antonio Clark himself finally arrives! Well, stumbles in, really. He looks really disheveled. "Where have you been!?" Salsa exclaims, and Clark just replies, "This... subspace tech, I don't understand it unless I'm *totally hammered.* So that's where I've been, doing a little research, if you know what I mean." He ambles in further, but when he gets a look at Andi, his eyebrows raise, and somehow Clark manages to straighten himself out into some facade of sobriety. "Well, *hello* there. Markdown didn't say there'd be such a *beautiful* woman coming to this meeting. Tsk tsk," he says with a lecherous grin. Salsa facepalms behind him. Andi Lassiter just blinks at that, her eyes going to James again. So is that what he ... ? Great. Wonderful. Andi manages to NOT roll her eyes, instead offering Mr. Clark what she hopes is a friendly enough smile while one hand reaches for her purse and the pepper spray that's concealed inside. Andi Lassiter Andrea Lassiter is a smallish woman, barely over 5 feet tall and thin. Her thick, dark brown hair is very slightly wavy and nearly brushing her waist, pulled back from her face in a barrette and the rest allowed to hang loose. A few thin crow's feet around her eyes are the only things that bely her age, as at a passing glance she'd easily be mistaken for someone in their mid-twenties. She is dressed in a cabled pullover sweater with a metal(?) sharktooth necklace gleaming at the garment's neckline. Her jeans are new and fit well without being too tight, and warm-looking weatherproof boots protect her feet. When she notices your glance, she smiles and nods in greeting before moving on. James Bailey looks between the two, then says in a low voice to Clark that he's reasonably sure Andi can't hear, "She is, huh?" Louder. "And one of our top techs as well. We're doing some followup on your work with one..." he produces a webphone and glances at it as if checking something. "'Subspace microscope'. Just strictly routine, you know. Part of the EDC's mandate is to make sure new technology gets registered, patented, owner's rights protected and all that." He looks at Andi. "Ms. Lassiter here's in charge of working with the developers." Antonio Clark sits across the boardroom table from Andi, flashing her his most dashing grin. James gets a subtle nod from him, but he doesn't say anything for several moments, as he appears to be busy admiring Andi Lassiter. Finally, he says, "Oh, of course. I already sent in my request to the patent office, of course, so that should be in the process of being taken care of." To Andi, though, he says, "Smart AND beautiful, huh? That is my *favorite* combination." Andi Lassiter glances at James again, because it's either that or roll her eyes at this yahoo. "Well, that's good to hear, but the R&D division also requires supplementary documentation in order to properly categorize and implement the addition of your new technology into our databases. If you could go over the equations and formulas included in your notes with us, that would be greatly appreciated." James Bailey meanwhile begins talking with Kettles in a low voice, asking for copies of the patent documents and other documents. He takes care to pronounce technical words carefully, as if he's memorized them and is otherwise unfamiliar with the terms. He's just following instructions. Antonio Clark smiles at Andi as she goes on, and for a moment it seems like he's not actually paying any attention to her. It turns out, however, that he was. "Of course! Though honestly, there's not much point to trying to explain the formulas and equations, and I'll tell you why. For most, uh, logical, scientific people? None of this stuff makes any sense at all. And when I was first working on the subspace microscope, I was... constantly frustrated. My brain was rebelling against my own research, because.. it was *ridiculous.* So... I stopped working on my project, and I went to the bar, and I got drunk out of my mind. I remember lying on my side in some back alley, shuddering and trying not to vomit, when it suddenly occurred to me what I was doing wrong. Yes, that's right, I figured out the secret to the subspace microscope *while drunk.* And ever since then, whenever I did more research on the thing, trying to get it, you know, useable, and something, I'd get *wasted* first." Salsa leans across the boardroom table towards Bailey, nodding at him. "I'll get it for you right away." She pulls out her cellphone, does a few things with it, then leaves the room. Andi Lassiter tries really hard to not sigh audibly. "I sort of guessed that already by the copies of your notes that Jetfire gave me. I have no problem with deciphering seemingly illogical mathematical proofs -- it's my job. What I am having problems with is your handwriting. I don't think even Yoda could figure this out." She turns her computer for the scientist to see, an image of his notes there on the screen. James Bailey walks around to sit in the seat next to Andi, glancing idly at the back of the computer, his phone, and the decor in the room. Although he's actually monitoring closely everything Clark says and does. Antonio Clark lets out a little sigh as he sees his own handwriting. "Ooh, right. Yeah, sorry about that.." He points at a dark half-ring on the notes. "Coffee stain. But listen, Ms. Lassiner--" Yes, he mispronounced her name. "--you may say that now, but trust me, you've never seen anything like this. I don't think even those robot guys get it, even though they all use it. So, what do you say you come over to my place tonight, we'll have a few drinks, and maybe it'll make a little more sense? The handwriting, too? Especially the handwriting." Salsa Kettles returns at that point, first sticking her head into the room and giving Clark a look like she expected him to have started a fire or something of that nature in her absence. When she sees that isn't true, she steps all the way in, holding a stack of official-looking papers. "There you go, Mr. Bailey," she says, handing the stack to James. Andi Lassiter idy wonders if she should lead this jerk on for a little THEN break the news to him that despite apperances she's actually over sixty years old of if that'd just backfire too much. Better to err on the side of caution. "It's Lassiter. And if you don't mind, I would really much rather get this taken care of here and now. This is somewhat time sensitive." James Bailey takes the stack with a slightly uncertain expression (and completely natural). Then he shifts around his trusty EDC satchel so that he can open it and try to fit the papers inside. "Thanks," he comments off-handedly. "Well I'm sure Clark's got a liquor cabinet or something in here somewhere." He says brightly, having kept one ear on Andi and Clark's conversation. Antonio Clark claps his hands at James's suggestion, and exclaims, "As a matter of fact, we do! We can get drunk right here! Salsa, some drinks for my guests, please!" With a weary sigh, Salsa approaches a cabinet, presses a button on it, and the thing slowly unfurls into a veritable gallery of alchohol. "What would you two like?" Clark says. "Oh, and there's no hurry, my dear, after all, that database isn't going anywhere, is it?" "Just a ginger ale, if you've got it." James says apologeticly. "I'm on duty." Andi Lassiter raises an eyebrow at both James' suggestion and the readily accessible wet bar. "If I may, Ms. Kettles?" She stands and walks over to the bar. "I'm on duty too, actually." "A ginger ale for Mr. Bailey, then," Clark says. "Oh, and some Vodka for me. Feeling a little *Russian* today." Salsa, sighing again, pours out drinks for the two men, but she's a bit surprised when Andi approaches. "Oh, well, of course, Ms. Lassiter," she says, giving her room to work before she hands Clark and Bailey their drinks. James Bailey accepts his drink gratefully and then peers at the notes on Andi's computer. "Something strong," he suggests to Andi. "You're probably gonna need it." Andi Lassiter sees that Ms. Kettles is quick with the drinks and shakes her head. "Nevermind." She quickly pours herself a glass of water and returns to the table. "I don't drink, James, remember?" James Bailey murmurs, "I never said it was for you." Andi Lassiter ohs faintly. "Ahh, that's too bad, Ms. LassiTer," Clark says after taking a gulp from his vodka, and gesticulates wildly with his free hand. "Okay. Without going into the math part, this is how my microscope works. It's like a periscope, actually. The term "microscope" is misleading, yeah, but the marketing guys said it sounded better. Anyway, it's like a periscope. I take a little graviton pulse, and I poke that into our reality until I punch through into this pocket dimension, and when I do that, the barrier between the two realities acts like a lens through which the microscope can receive light from the other side. Fortunately, it's a one-way deal--there's stuff in there I wouldn't want looking at *me,* lemme tell you. It's bad enough to look at THEM." Andi Lassiter nods, turning her computer back to herself and rapidly typing something into it. "What power level of graviton pulse do you use? Antonio Clark holds up all ten of his fingers. "Just ten watts. Can you believe that? Well, you should, because keep in mind, this is a very, very, very tiny little hole I'm poking into the two realities, but it's all I need to see what's on the other side. I didn't want to use more than that until I understood subspace better. After all... use too much power..." For the first time since the meeting started, Clark looks very serious as he considers what he just said. James Bailey lowers his drink without taking a sip. "Use too much power and what?" he prompts gently. "You might break down the barrier between the two realities," Clark says. "Things from subspace will come into reality, things from reality will go into subspace. And the bigger the rupture between the two realities, that more that can come in or out. It could be completely uncontrolled, and this is dangerous because until I do more research? We don't really know what's in there! We could accidentally transport a black hole into our world!" He lets out an exhausted sigh. "I don't think the Decepticons really understand what they stole from me. No, to them, I'm just a dumb ape that got lucky and invented fire on accident." Andi Lassiter looks at James after that outburst, silently asking if she should share the intel they already have with this yokel. James Bailey exchanges looks with Andi, and then nods slightly. Jetfire has already received the maximum number of +noms for this week. Go nominate someone else whose roleplaying you have enjoyed! Andi Lassiter turns back to Clark. "Sorry to say, the Decepticons know /exactly/ what they stole from you. And they've already used it to open rifts in subspace on several occasions. So we nee to know IMMEDIATELY how your periscope works so we can stop them from using it again. Capice?" Dee-Kal's optics flicker and go dark, her systems shutting down. Antonio Clark looks at Andi Lassiter in alarm. "So they've already figured it out. Dammit... I wanted to make something to benefit the human race, but instead those barbarians turned it into a weapon. Alright. I'll tell you everything I know about how it works..." He looks meaningfully between the two. "You guys sure you don't want to get a little drunk? It seriously might help." Salsa Kettles can't take it anymore, though, and says, "Sir, please, just help them?" "Oh, alright," Clark says. "The alchohol would have helped, though." BEGIN MONTAGE Antonio Clark has removed his business jacket, making him look a little more informal as he stands next to a markerboard full of mathematical equations, pointing out significant parts. Salsa Kettles, meanwhile, pours out another drink for him even as she shakes her head in dismay. James Bailey paces back and forth, watching and occasionally taking notes. His expression becomes more and more somber as Clark goes on. Andi Lassiter sheds her own business jacket and goes so far as to kick off her shoes which only further illustrates how short she is. She goes to stand next to Clark and works with him on the equations, frequently asking for clarifications and occasionally offering other solutions to the equations. At some point along the way, she offers James a small camera from her purse for him to visually record the equations. Finally at one point she just stops. "This is getting beyond me. James, can you try to get Jetfire on the phone?" Antonio Clark holds up a shot of liquor. "You don't need Jetfire, you need *this.* Trust me!" Salsa sighs in dismay. James Bailey looks tempted. At the thought of calling in Autobot tech support, or maybe at the liquor. Hard to tell. "...I think maybe we should keep going." He watches Clark. "While we all can keep going," he adds under his breath. Andi Lassiter sighs and nods to James, turning back to the board and the equations there. Damnit. She can't help but mutter to hersel, "I should have gone back for that theoretical physics supplemental degree when I had the chance twenty years ago." Antonio Clark just says, "I'm trying to tell you, all that higher brain thinking isn't going to help you here because it's telling you that what you're seeing is wrong, but it *isn't* wrong, I've proven it works. Well, maybe I can try a slightly different subject?" James Bailey suggests mildly, "Maybe something like how to block your periscope from working at all? Any theories you might have on the matter?" Andi Lassiter looks at James then nods. "That would be a great start." Antonio Clark rubs his forehead, straining to think. Then, he blurts out, "Pinch it. Pinch the periscope from the sides, and that should block things from coming in or out. But... I don't have any idea how to do that! Salsa--" "Sir, you've had more than enough," Salsa Kettles. "Any more and I'll have to call an ambulance!" James Bailey eyes Salsa first with impatience, then thoughtfulness. He glances back at Clark, then nods slowly. "She's right...we can take what you've given us so far back to the Autobots. Hopefully it'll jog a few things in their own thinking." He shoots a little sideways glance at Andi, then adds with a straight face. "And if not, Ms. Lassiter can always come back later." Andi Lassiter looks at James questioningly. Really? Just... leave? She'll go along with it, though. "James is right. This is a good start, maybe we have enough now to stop what the Decepticons are doing." Antonio Clark nods, "Yeah, I think we've gone as far as we can. This is hard stuff, folks. But if you want to come back, you're welcome any time." He winks at Andi. "Especially you, my dear. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go to my hangover." He begins to lurch out of the room, and Salsa darts over to help prop him up. James Bailey watches the pair leave, with what might be just a hint of admiration. Then he turns back to Andi, all business again. "Nice work there, Captain. Let's get this information back to the Autobots. Anything they come up with, we can run by Clark once he's sobered up." He pauses, then adds. "Check that, he seems a lot more effected sauced. But don't worry, maybe we can do it via teleconference next time." He smiles slightly. Andi Lassiter looks at James oddly. "Captain?" She walks over to quickly pack up her computer and wahtever else got strewn about while they were working. "Yeah, maybe a teleconference will be better next time. What a weirdo."
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