61. Frizzy Hair

        Bracing for the worst part of her day, Zara hurried along to the construction site office clutching an armful of revised plans and knocked at the door, barely able to hear her own knock over the deafening noises around her... No answer. She knocked again, harder, but again there was no answer. The rule was to knock but the rule was to deliver the plans, too. If no one answered the door, she still had to still deliver the plans.

         Trying to behave like a professional, she reminded herself of the golden string pulling her up and stood tall as she opened the door, first checking to make sure that there really wasn't anyone there with a loud 'Hello?', then hurried over to the inboxes to deliver the plans.

         But the office wasn't vacant for long. A large and burly Foreman was right behind her, angrily discussing one of the details with one of the Architects in tow when he saw her slip inside, uninvited.

         "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?" He bellowed when he saw her at the inbox. "GET BACK OUTSIDE AND KNOCK" he boomed, spit flying from his mouth.

         Paralyzed for a moment, Zara overcame her fears and hurried past the Foreman, back out the door, clutching the undelivered plans, heart pounding so loud she could hear it over the noise outside. She closed the door, took a deep breath, visualized the string again and knocked as told, but there was no answer. She held her ear to the door but heard no footsteps even, they were talking... 

         She knocked again, louder, covering her other ear so as to muffle out the construction din. But again, there was no answer. She knocked again, she got upset and began to panic, banging as hard as she could until her knuckles were sore. Suddenly the door flew open.

         "I SAID COME IN!"

         Zara tried to compose herself as best she could as she carried out her duties, it wasn't always like this, it got a bit worse each time. With trembling hands she filed the plans in the boxes, saluted the Foreman and left the office, relieved the ordeal was over for another day.

         The Moha Lab was quickly becoming unbearable but none dared speak of the horrors which made it so. Festering in bacteria, the stench was so bad crews were getting sick, it was only a matter of time before disease would set in, the pressure was becoming unbearable for all who were involved in the cleanup operation.

         Adon was in charge of processing the deceased examples, of salvaging any organs and biological samples they could muster from the corpses as they were sorted through, accounted for and disposed of as ordered. He had been assigned responsibility for pineal gland salvage, priority above all for the Crystal Program, they would be useful for study, none were to be wasted, he was to preserve them by drying them out, charting their DNA and labeling them for the purpose of research and development. 

         Carefully, he cut open the skull, plucked out the acorn-like object from the heart of the brain and slid it under the microscope. After documenting the features, he opened a small drying oven, placed the pineal gland on a rack and closed the door. 

         It was cold and dark as Zara walked home after work, the sleeting rain grazing her cheeks was almost soothing as she headed down the hill from the headquarters building for the day. It had been the worst day ever, she hated the Nefilim,  if only she could just draw. Why did she have to deliver plans when she was already qualified to draw? She mulled over her day with regret, it wasn't that she hated her job, she liked delivering plans, it was just the way she was treated that made it so bad. Sometimes she felt like her life was cursed, it seemed like everything she set out to accomplish in life turned into some sort of a hellish nightmare.

         The warm glow of Dion's Salon attracted her attention from such gloomy thoughts. She paused beneath the awning to admire the pretty bottles of shampoos, the beautiful mannequins in the window with their sexy blonde and ebony wigs, if only she had such beautiful hair... She began to wonder now... Perhaps a professional cut would gain her some respect from the Nefilim? Perhaps she was bringing this disrespect upon herself by not keeping up with the empire's latest fashions and trends like she should?

         It was a revolutionary thought. She dropped her bag, pulled her hair out of her coat and let it down, studying the reflection in the glass. She ran her fingers through the long brown strands, aching to admit the truth... It was still frizzy, even in the cold wet sleet. She picked up her bag, knowing. She could use a visit to the salon, even though she couldn't compete with the goddesses, perhaps they could at least improve her looks? Perhaps a visit to the salon was all she had to do to make a positive change in her life? 

            Inspired by new hope, she fumbled through her bag for the discount card and opened the door to the welcoming chime of a bell.