thefirststark | (no subject)

(no subject)

Factory Building #3 doesn't stand out much from the dozens of manufacturing sites in southern California. The two things that distinguish it most? That it was build after the war ended, when so many other factories were being shut down. And that it's in Whittier, more than a little off the beaten path. It had been a bit of pork brought home by Congressman Voorhis, something that Howard was glad to take advantage of. And the fact that Voorhis was gone and replaced by a newcomer named Richard Nixon wasn't important. Everyone in the district wanted the jobs, after all.

The location wasn't perfect. The nearest full scale airfield was a good drive, meaning that planes would have to be towed on substandard roads for testing. And those same roads didn't make the drive there an easy one. But Howard was still pleased with the factory, with the labor pool, with the cost of the construction, and the government contracts that went with it. Specifically, the B-35. The next generation in long range bomber.

The staff was all abuzz today. Howard's visits to the factory were rare. He generally trusted his managers, and usually had somewhere else to be. That he was making an inspection left everyone eager. Or nervous. Was there something wrong? Was there someone even more important coming? Or was he just being a boss and pulling the sort of surprise inspection that other bosses love? All anyone knew was that he arrived through the private garage and went to his office unseen.

They didn't know that he had left the office and gone into another dimension for a while. Or that he was bringing back a guest.

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Noriko had made a few changes to her appearance to fit in slightly easier in a time far before both the technology to deal with her mutation and hair dye that came in her particular favored shade. The gauntlets had come off and her hair was chalked black again--tedious process as that was--and she waited for Howard to come through.

She was definitely excited to see the stages of building a plane as advanced for the age as the B-35, because while deconstruction would expose the insides, it didn't show things the same way as them being put together for the first time would.

The magnate enters the small but well appointed office. The first he does after closing the door is grab his fedora. He doesn't care for hats but everyone wears them.

"Welcome to Factory 3."

"Where are we?" she asks, watching him take the hat and raising a brow. "You never wear a hat in the bar," she mentions. "You always leave it here?"

"Factory 3, in Whittier, California. My newest factory.

"And yes, I don't care much for hats. But it's sort of expected of me when conducting business." The hat looks pricey but not comfortable.

"Screw convention," she says with a lopsided grin, holding out a hand. "You want I should wear it?"

What, Howard should be used to her attitudes on societal norms by now. "Solves your problem if I do."

Howard gets a coy grin. "My hats always look better on women." Never mind the message that might send to the employees.

And so he puts in her head. "Ready?"

Noriko grins; she rather likes the hat, and it doesn't look half bad on her, really. It makes her almost look normal with blackened straight locks and bare hands, and clothes that actually cover more than half the available skin.

"Born ready," she answers.

He opens the door and the sounds of the factory rush in. He just smiles.

The factory is louder than she expected, but Nori's grin just widens in the face of it, breaking into a laugh as she steps through, careful of where she steps in her heels, but confident.

"Cool," she murmurs.

Howard starts the tour by going over a few facts and figures. Clearly, he's either given this tour before or taken it often. They walk down a cluttered corridor, ever closer to the noise. People pass by and nod hello to the boss and don't seem to notice Noriko.

"Well, at least I blend in," she murmurs, eyeing one of the passing workmen with a bland half-smile. "Which is something I do not say to people, ever. You're the first."

"You give this talk to a lot of people?" Noriko asks, tucking her for-once bare hands into her pockets. Because it isn't that she doesn't care about the facts and figures, but she's far more interested in what they actually do here. Numbers of people and cost of material are not so much useful to that.

He's not really sure she blends in. The number of Oriental employees here is small. But since the end of the war, he has been trying to increase that mumber, if slowly.

"It's a good pitch when talking to potential investors and partners. But I guess it's pretty canned. General Philips didn't care for it either."

"That'd be because neither of us are the canned speech type," she says, shaking her head and turning to walk backward--which she is rather good at--so she can still talk to Howard. If people want to avoid running into her, they'll have to pay attention to her.

"Who's this General Phillips? Friend of yours?"

In a place as busy as this, conversations with people going backwards are fairly common. One such conversation passes them by, in fact, as they near the factory floor.

"General Philips was the founder of the SSR. Officially retired now, and only peripherally connected to anything important now. But he came out here for a visit a few weeks back. I thought he'd like a tour."

"Did he?" she asks.

"So where'd the SSR disappear to, or did someone else take it over?"

"It's been restructured." More than that he won't say when there are other people around. Secrets are so very hard to keep.

Rather than press on that note, Noriko just gives him a look. "So what's the coolest thing you're working on? In your opinion," she clarifies.

"The coolest thing...let me think." First, he has to be sure he gets the word "cool." And then he has to decide.

"That would probably be a supersonic jet engine. But you won't see anything like that today. We're still a long way from having any sort of prototype, let alone one to attach to a plane."

"Already working on supersonics, huh?" she asks. "You'd love seeing the blackbird fly if you're into things that go really fast."

he'd also love seeing the X-Jet fly, but that...carries a significantly higher risk of getting him killed in the process.

"All in good time. I am sure when it's the moment, I'll be be there. And at my factory," he adds cockily.

They reach a wide and wide open door, and step through. To a huge space with the incomplete fuselages of three planes at the center. "I think this is what you wanted to see?"

"Yeah, you're not at all lacking in confidence, are you?" she laughs, sending him an amused crooked grin.

When they step through the door, she tilts her head way back to see the plane bodies, brows raising. "Whoa. Those are big planes."

"Bombers have to be, to be effective. And those are going to be long distance bombers. A lot of fuel tanks." Which adds to the weight, adding to the need for fuel. Someday, he is going to solve that conundrum.

"You need higher-density fuel, man. More bang for your buck, o to speak," she says, though she's not at all shy about coming closer to see the fuselage up close.

She may be grinning like a kid on Christmas, yeah. This is an excellent field trip. "Wow."

"You really know your stuff. I would prefer to look into something besides gasoline or other oil derivatives, but for now I'm at the mercy of my partners in the oil industry." Which doesn't make him happy.

They make their way towards the least finished fuselage. Technically, even the boss shouldn't be able to bring just anyone onto the factory floor, but who's going to tell him that?

"What, and you thought I was just another pretty face?" she asks, still smiling. Sometime she needs to show him the shirt she has with no I will not love you long time printed boldly across the front. She thinks Howard would either laugh himself silly or blush until he passed out, one of the other.

"We tried hydrogen slush a while back, but it doesn't so much burn as it does ignite and promptly explode, which was a little counterproductive."