<strong>Location</strong>: The Ritz-Gospel Hotel (First Haven, Watcher’s Island). Conference Hall 01<br/><strong>Date</strong>: 5 January 2099. Monday<br/><strong>Time</strong>: Morning<br/><strong>Who</strong>: Julie Tanaka<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Julie was content to let any question not addressed directly to her be answered by the others—she had the least amount of seniority after all. Though she did not let her expression change, the young pilot found the question incredibly stupid. The pilots had nothing to do with overall strategic planning for ADAMS, and therefore could not offer any meaningful “hope” other than pointless, boilerplate sympathy. If this man did not know that then he was completely unqualified to do his job. If he did know, then he was probably hoping he could trick a pilot into saying something out of turn to cause a minor scandal and increase his readership. In which case, he could go fuck himself.<br/><br/>For her part, Julie found any demonic incursion troubling. But she could not allow herself to become emotionally invested in every attack, any more than a doctor could become attached to all her patients. That kind of behavior could only lead to complete burnout or even a nervous breakdown. It would be impossible to explain the need for professional detachment without appearing callous, so she would at no point address the subject.