The newly vacated oval of the President's conference room looked every bit like the disasters its occupants dealt with every week. Half-empty glasses and bottled water littered the surface, fingerprints aplenty for the dedicated investigator. Gods above, if the media got wind of this new development in the Specialis Gens debacle the government might as well ready itself for anticipated elections - a shame, as Helen had come to respect Souers over the years. The rest of his staff was a different matter entirely.
Lips pressed into a thin line, Helen lingered a moment too long behind the pack. She would have liked to speak to the General, but he was among the first to exit the conference and she wasn't in the business of giving chase. Her briefcase took longer than usual to pack up and close, a reprieve she used extensively in the study of her peers. Simply because the meeting had ended did not mean that the items discussed therein were sealed. Nor did it mean that the rising tide of condemnation could so easily be curbed.
Conveniently, the object of Helen's aggravation happened to be among the last to leave. She did not seem to notice what was readily apparent to Helen until everyone else had gone and they were left alone, two women at the top of the food chain and yet perfectly content to be snapping teeth in each other's general direction rather than cooperating. The higher they sat on shaking pedestals, the hungrier they became. Helen, in particular, felt absolutely famished.
"Explain something to me, if you would. Your intellect is so much more... superior to my own that I think I need the help." Her head canted to the side in false curiosity. "How did you and your team of intelligent, educated acolytes ever imagine that releasing these freaks into society would turn out well for anyone? At best, they are at the mercy of a community they don't understand. At worst? Well... they set shops on fire with their bare hands."