"Nothing more than what's common sense," Charls said, still approaching the pile of boxes at the end of the room. For all of Seagram's technological height, this IT room didn't look particularly more special than the rest of its kind and at the corners of the room were still piles and piles of boxes and wires and unused machines and desks. And no one bats an eyelash at this mess.
It was almost a wonder how Charls could still find the box that he was going to hand over Eleanor, pulling it by its plastic handle from the top of its pile to put on top one of those empty tables at the other side of the room. "You may customize your system however you wish but do not uninstall anything that is already there." He pried open the box and brought out a sleek black laptop in a flimsy white cotton envelope. "They're there for your protection and for Syndicate's purposes."
After putting the machine on top of its box, he turned and walked away. "Your username is your e-mail, your password your birthday. Make sure you change your account details as soon as you can."