As the questioning wound down, Shira found herself becoming increasingly irate. How long had she been in this room? How much longer would it be? Was this piece of metal<i>really</i>worth this much trouble? Shira began doing small, subtle things just to break the tedium. Her hair slowly shifting colors. Her artificial eye blinking a tiny light rapidly at the glass wall, saying "IM HUNGRY" in morse code, repeatedly. Venting pores on her skin, literally one at a time, starting from her fingers and going up her arm. And if it needled someone watching that she was flagrantly entertaining herself, all the better. The agent across the table, however, remained completely composed, obviously not one to entertain childish behavior. Even all this barely kept Shira's patience in check however, and just as she was about to explode on the woman across from her...the agent stood up, actually catching Shira off guard.<br/><br/>"Thank you for your time, Dr. Brigandy. Wait here." She was almost polite. The agent walked out of the room, the door closing behind her, leaving Shira in the room with the guard. He was impossible to read, barely moving a muscle, the helmet he wore obscuring his face. Shira just leaned back in her chair and sighed. She went to tap her fingers on the table, before realizing the arm with the fingers she wanted to use was no longer attached to her.<br/><br/>"Can I put my arm back on?" She asked the guard, but there was no response, not even a twitch of acknowledgment. Which meant no, as expected. They obviously weren't done with her. She then turned her attention to the glass in front of her, engaging in a staring contest with her ow reflection, and possibly anyone on the other side of it. And time passed. She wasn't sure exactly how much, and Shira privately wondered if she could get some sort of internal timepiece installed, something she could..wait.<br/><br/>Shira blinked, and her eye immediately started projecting a clock onto the wall. Being able to tell the time wouldn't piss anyone off, would it? It just displayed an error message, unable to sync with the time server. Shira should have known better, of course the place was cut off from any outside signals. Every connection coming in and going out was wired only. She was properly irritable now. Shira turned back towards the guard, turning her eye off. She moved her hand closer to her arm on the table. He didn't move. She touched the arm, and he immediately shifted, pointing the rifle right at her. Shira held up her arms in a mock surrender, and leaned back in her chair, sighing. It felt late. Was it possible she had just used up an entire afternoon here? All that productivity, down the drain. She returned to glaring daggers at the glass. It would probably be a good idea to undergo some kind of mental fortitude training, she felt, if this was all it took to reduce her from a brilliant sceintist to a petulant child. It just felt too out of character, a side of her that really only came up when Shira was a few too many drinks into an evening, surrounded by close friends. This was hardly the place for it.<br/><br/>The door opened again, catching Shira's attention. A woman strode in, a rather pretty one at that. A light tan, silky blonde hair tied into an immaculate bun, with a white silk blouse, tight pencil skirt, a well-cut suit jacket, and well-made heels adorning a commanding presence.  To Shira, it seemed like the agents previous were just formalities - this woman, however, was the poison. They were about to make their threats and deals, then? Shira already disliked her.<br/><br/>"Dr. Brigandy, a pleasure to meet you." Her voice was smooth, with a lovely timbre. "My name is Jennifer Wheeler, thank you for coming in today. I hope you're well?"<br/><br/>She sat down across from Shira, who responded with a silent, bored expression. Get on with it, her eyes said. Wheeler picked up the arm on the table, examining it. She didn't seem bothered by the weight, lifting it easily. Wheeler's eyes slowly traced the lines of the forearm, the elbow joint, up to the shoulder, and then over to Shira, obviously gazing right at the empty shoulder.<br/><br/>"You work for Lyceum, yes? Following an incident in which you lost that particular arm. I'm told they assisted you quite a bit, which led to your current employment, and current bodily state. Tragic. I do hope you're managing well. Pioneer would hate to lose a mind like yours." Shira's dislike of Wheeler spiked. Was that patronizing attitude really necessary? "This morning, can you walk me through it?"<br/><br/>Shira took a deep breath, calming herself. She retold what happened again, from walking into the hangar, to meeting Kaz, to picking up the metal, all the way until she had entered the room. She had zero intention of being polite. She'd cooperate, but Shira was entirely fed up with this. "...And then one of your agents ran me through a few more questions, many of which you will no doubt repeat, then walked out and left me in here. Then you walked in, and we started talking. Still hungry, by the way." Shira flashed morse code at Wheeler, repeating her sentiment: FEED ME.<br/><br/>"When you received the fragment from Mr. Markin, did he hand it to you?" Wheeler was not going to be baited out of her game.<br/><br/>"No, he kicked it over to me."<br/><br/>"And you picked it up? What then?"<br/><br/>"Correct. I used my artificial arm to do some preliminary analysis on the fragment, getting a look at curvature, smoothness, things of that nature. I've already said this."<br/><br/>"A wondrous thing, your arm. Cybernetics have done much for you, haven't they? You should count yourself lucky." What was the point of that? Was Wheeler just making small talk, or...No, that was their weapon against her. Shira had no family anywhere, and very few emotional attachments. They very things that let her be a part of society, however, those were prime targets. "You did not touch it with your human hand? No skin contact?"<br/><br/>"None." Shira's voice was firm. Wheeler seemed to be fishing for something.<br/><br/>"Hmm, Mr. Markin wasn't so sure." There it was. Shira was almost caught off guard. They'd already talked to Kaz, then? Or was this just them trying to get some testimony to use later? Either way, they needed leverage. Had Kaz thrown her under the bus? They were mildly friendly coworkers, at best, it wasn't<i>unreasonable</i>for him to save himself at her expense. But then again, ignorance was always the best defense, and Kaz knew that.<br/><br/>"I'm telling you what I know to be true. I don't know what the state of the metal was before the pilot kicked it over to me." If Shira was about to doom Kaz to some unpleasant fate, then it felt better referring to him as 'the pilot' instead of using his real name. She was being honest, at least. Wheeler seemed to be satisfied with her answer, and nodded.<br/><br/>"Well, honestly is something we truly respect here." Her tone was still the same venomous politeness, that patronizing false empathy that ground into Shira's psyche. "No doubt, this forthrightness extends into your day to day life as well. Your modifications aren't anything off market, of course."<br/><br/>"Nothing I have is illegal or something I acquired without a proper purchase." Shira wasn't lying. Some of her cybernetics were non-standard, but hardly black market. "Can we just cut this out? I get it. You can confiscate my cybernetics at any time. It's something I'm well aware of. I tell anyone about our conversation or decide to blab my mouth that Central Intelligence is heavily interested in a random piece of metal, you take away my arm, my hips, and whatever else you feel like, and make my life that much worse. That's it, right?"<br/><br/>"You catch on." Wheeler grinned, showing off perfect teeth.  "But that's not all. You're a well-connected young woman, some people in Central Intelligence vouched for you. And so, we've got a task for you. Any more fragments, you report directly to us. Use your contacts, they've been briefed. You get free reign to explore any future debris you come across, so long as all findings are reported directly to us. Any news of other teams finding them while you're going around, you report to us. Welcome to Internal Affairs, Dr. Brigandy. We'll be in touch."<br/><br/>Wheeler got up, gave Shira another smile, and then walked out. Shira felt like cursing her out, but held her tongue. So that was the idea - they gain a spy to feed them info, and the benefit of any and all future research. Any deviation meant an effective death, as Shira would likely be unable to lead her life without the help of her cybernetics. As the guard walked her out, now with both arms, Shira wondered how many other people were roped into this - it couldn't have been the first fragment. They were all likely kept intentionally in the dark, to avoid any sort of organized efforts from getting out of hand. Control, that's all it was.<br/><br/>Shira stood in the plaza, mostly wondering what to do with the rest of her day. Would Kaz be around shortly? Hopefully intact and alive, and probably a bit pissed off. Her stomach rumbled again.