Historical accounts:

************5th floor- near Margaret's desk***************

Channa: We won?

Margaret: Yeah...Alingi made a tacking error,

Channa:....

Margaret: yeah...Alingi made a tacking error and Team New Zealand capitalised.

***********Meanwhile: on the 11th floor**************

"Ah...excuse me...Janet."

"Yes Siaan, How are you?", Janet articulated her words carefully and politely to Siaan.

"Well... I've found..ah...this book and I can't seem to find a place for it...um..It looks like"

"may I have a look?"

"Oh...that's interesting I wonder where...where it's from", her words trailed off as she entered deep contemplation...

James' first coffee for the day was kicking in and he was on route to the mens', but...'what's going on here?', he thought, as he saw what could be a situation to join.

He sidled up close, looking interested, confused and helpful.

"oh, hi James"

"what's going on???"

"Oh...Siaan found this...", she wouldn't let go of the book just yet. Instead she held it for James to view.

"Oh yeah....", James was clearly on to something here, he was so excited by his opportunity for contribution that Margaret and Siaan could feel it -and anticipation arrived...

"mmm..."..."yeah this looks like some sci fi book...yeah...I know this...I think I've seen the movie"

"Oh I wonder how it ended up here" said Margaret, "Can you maybe ask around to see who's it is Siaan?"

********************Meanwhile: in the elevator on route to the 12th floor*****************

I've pushed my trolley into a lift with some dude who's got this feeble, thin, long, brylcreemed and stylised fringe. Another dude is associated with him by floor and present vicinity- he looks at the papers ostentatiously, so as to start something.

"oh yip....we're on the way."

"yeah but can they do it again?"

Ding. They split as they go to their respective ends of the floor, but the fringe hasn't finished yet...

"Yeah...well Alingi have a better boat, great design...", his voice trails as the doors close. I sigh. Then I wack my head against the wall. Then check out the article. '1 each....I reckon we can do it. Alingi have the better boat, but we've got great sailers'

Terry

ding! - the elevator arrives at level 2. I push my old-school, clunky, newspaper-filled trolley on, Terry follows with his white, streamlined, filing trolley. I am envious and apprehensive- Terry is always up for some banter. He looks at me...Here it comes...

"Another one gone aye?"
'rhetorical question?', I ponder and say nothing.
"they're getting just as busy as the weeks, these days..."
"yeah", with forced chuckle...
"Yeah, the weekends are almost as busy as the bloody weeks.."
[silence]-it's a 12 floor journey.

He looks at my paper tray and something catches his attention...
"That's an interesting one...there must have been something dodgy goin on with them...for the juror to do that..."
I'm lost, I don't know what he's talking about..."I haven't heard about that".

Terry doesn't care to explain...We've reached the 12th floor and he heads to the south entrance- I go north. He continues talking about the jury case to himself as he turns his back on me.

I like Terry, he combs his hair nice... He looks like he could have been in the war in his younger days- though I heard he was a fireman.

Jimmy!

Beep.Then short delay, then the mechanical slide of a door...All signs of excitement in the document deliver area…

This time it's Jimmy, "JIMMY!!", we shout, as the NZ courier's courier arrives. He has grey hair and wears the black & white insignia of his company. He walks at great speed, intently focused on the in-tray on John's desk. He acknowledges our greeting with an indecipherable reply- couriers do everything fast- and then makes some remark on how it's nearly Friday... or was it about the weather?
Jimmy could be Irish. I often ponder this possibility after he's gone, or before he's come, or while he's here...