Kerry would most certainly appreciate it. "I'll take one of these." She selected a poster tube and handed over the money for it to the dour, unlit cigar chomping man behind the desk.
"Sure ya don't want it in a nice frame, lady? Got a great bargain here on this one." He indicated an ornate, gilded monstrosity.
"No thanks," Dar politely refused. "I've got to carry it on the plane. This is easier."
"Whatever. Later. G'bye." The man turned to another customer, leaving Dar standing there with her poster in her hand slightly taken aback by the gruff attitude.
Collecting herself, Dar edged against one of the walls and peered around, finally spotting the entrance to the subway. She approached it, pausing a moment before she started down the steps.
The walls were all bright and cheery, but for every second she was on the stairs, Dar was aware of the fact that she was moving further and further under the ground. Her throat went dry, and she swallowed in reflex as she reached the first platform, and was faced with a number of posted signs laying out the different routes.
Dar stopped in front of a subway map, using the excuse of studying it to allow her heartbeat to settle. She could still see the steps up from where she was, and there was sufficient space around her. "Okay." She exhaled, focusing on the maze of colored lines in front of her. After a moment, her brow creased. "Jesus," she muttered. "I've seen spider webs less complicated than this."
The thought of a taxi suddenly became extremely appealing. Dar glanced over her head at the steel infrastructure, wincing a little as some train nearby rattled past and a gust of cold air blew against her. "What in the hell am I doing?"
Seeing if you have any guts at all left? Her inner voice mocked her.
With a scowl, she turned and walked to one of the token machines, studying it for a minute before she inserted a few bills and retrieved a square of cardboard for her troubles. She looked at it, and then her expression brightened. "Hey. I can prove to Kerry I did this."
Looking around to find her route, Dar started off down a passageway, sidestepping a man playing a flute and two women selling bags of... "Hm." She paused and purchased a bag of churros, taking one out to nibble on as she explored further into the maze.
Her selected route was the Times Square shuttle, since that appeared to let out reasonably close to the Intrepid museum, and more importantly, wasn't that far underground. Dar found the correct platform relatively easily, and leaned against the metal support, waiting for the train to arrive.
Okay, so far, so good. Dar glanced around her, and then she walked down the platform to where a small set of steps seemed to lead downward. She peeked down them, spotting more signs leading to more platforms, leading to different trains, which seemed to run in every direction at many different levels.
The complexity and seeming randomness unexpectedly intrigued her. It was almost as though some kids had taken six or seven of their individual train sets and threw them all together, pouring glue on top and hoping for the best.
Dar turned and surveyed the station she was standing on, taking in the tile mosaics, and the patchwork grid of the ceiling beams that crossed and re-crossed each other. The steel members seemed old, almost ancient, though the station tiles appeared new, and the facility was well kept.
Hm.
The train arrived, in a clatter of wheels and a blast of musky air.
Dar waited until the occupants had exited, and most of the people waiting to enter got in. Then she stepped onto the train, appreciating the chill of the air conditioning as she selected a seat on one side, near the back and settled into it.
The train was about half full. Dar studied her subway map, giving the doors an impatient look every few seconds when they obstinately refused to close. As the train sat there, a few late-comers jumped on. One of them, a tall bronze skinned girl in black denim and leather took the seat next to Dar.
They studied each other for a minute. Then the girl lifted one of her leather boot encased feet and put it on her opposite knee. "Yo," she addressed Dar pleasantly. "You ain't from here, huh?"
Dar's eyebrows cocked slightly. Behind her sunglasses, she glanced down at herself, comparing her appearance to the appearance of the rest of the train's occupants.
Hm. Apparently New Yorkers in downtown Manhattan didn't dress like refugees from a Jimmy Buffet concert. "No," she allowed briefly.
"Yeah." The girl folded her arms over her chest. "That's what I figured. Cause us New Yorkers don't go round half naked like that, y'know?"
Since the train wasn't moving, Dar decided conversation wouldn't hurt, and it would keep her mind off the butterflies in her stomach. "Why not?" she asked. "It's a hundred degrees outside."
"Just cause we don't," the girl responded readily. "I mean, you dress like that, you just asking for guys to come out, and be all like, touching you, and all that jazz. You know?"
Dar tilted her head and let her sunglasses drop down on her nose slightly, making actual eye contact with the women. "No, I don't," she drawled, hearing the touch of molasses enter her tone.
"Yo. You got some really cool eyes. I like that color," the woman complimented her. "They real?"
Dar blinked, her brows arching up. Then she realized what the woman meant. "Yeah." She pushed her sunglasses back up and leaned back. "What's with the train?" She changed the subject to one she figured the woman would know better than she did.
"This?" The woman pointed up over her head. "Oh, I don't know. They do that sometimes. Just make 'em stop, bam. Like that."
Erf. Dar glanced at the still open door. Just then, though, the speakers crackled to life over their heads and a gravelly voice intruded into the train.
There has been a power failure up the line and all the trains are stopped. Do not stand in the doorways. The trains can move at any time. Thank you.
It was like an omen. Dar figured. This was God's way of telling her to get the hell off the damn subway and go take a cab like any other self respecting Floridian would. She started to get up, but as she did, the doors whipped closed, and the train started moving unexpectedly, throwing her back into her seat. "Guess we're leaving now," she commented dryly.
"So." The girl edged nearer. "Where ya from, what's ya name?" She held out a hand. "I'm Scuzzy."
Dar eyed her in alarm. It's a sixty second ride, Dar. Deal with it. "Dar. I'm from Miami."
"Cool!" Scuzzy shook her hand firmly. "That's a cool name, and Miami's a cool place," she said.
"Thanks." Dar smiled briefly.
Abruptly, the train slowed and stopped again. Dar glanced outside, and saw nothing but black tunnel walls. Behind her glasses, she closed her eyes and tried not to think about how many tons of granite buildings were perched over her head, pressing down on tunnels she was sure were far too old, based on the ones she'd seen in the station.
"Yo. You like hockey?"
Dar opened one eye. "What?"
"Me and my buds, we're going down to the ice rink and play killer hockey later on, like tonight. You wanna come play? I can see you do somethin' with all them muscles you got."
Dar swore she heard creaking outside.
Subways, she realized, were looking like a bad, bad mistake.
"FUDGE." KERRY GLOWERED at her PDA. "Fudge, fudge, fudge."
"Something wrong, boss?" Mark whispered.
Kerry rocked back in her chair, shedding some of her fidgets. "Ah...Dar's stuck in New York," she sighed. "Maybe until Friday."
The session so far had been nothing more than a recap of the bid request, and then subsequent presentations by the four companies as to how they intended on fulfilling them.