Do not open the red door. It is not fixed. Do not open the red door. It is not fixed. Do not open the red door. It is not fixed. Jeannie repeated it in her mind as she mad her way through what she could only assume was the lab that had been mentioned. But oh, it was very, very tempting to open the red door. She could blink and fix it. Then she could see what was on the other side. Her curiosity was very strong.
But she was just as curious about the man that had yelled at her. He had an accent. Could people with accents become police officers? But then, they were in The City, she supposed that there were all sorts of people that could be policemen here. As difficult as it was, she eased her way past the red door, both without fixing it and without opening it.
She could always come back and do that later.
Jeannie arrived in the control room just in time to dodge what looked like some sort of gauge. Ducking low to avoid getting hit in the face, she exclaimed, “Oh dear!” As she straightened, taking in the room and the contents, her eyes grew wider and she managed to gasp, “Oh my.”
And she had thought the room with the stairs was odd! Then she got a good look at the man standing there. Well he was standing at the moment, but he looked as though he might burst into motion at any second. He wore a suit, and a tie. He had glasses. And tennis shoes.