Malcolm's been doing his job...though not, admittedly, to the best of his ability. Because there was no point in blindly following all the rules. He can fudge things here and there; it's not like Thomas wants him doing anything major (read: interesting). Baby steps indeed. And some of the rules just seem harsh. Letting a little made-up trouble slide, that's no problem, so long as nobody snitches and gets him into trouble with the higher-ups. He wants to pretend to get on their good side, after all.

He especially wants, since he saw them sitting on the desk his first day there, whatever files Thomas and the others have. On them. On the world. On everything. And then, of course, he wants information on what's out there, and he wants to know who's behind all of this.

He's surprised--and then realizes that he really shouldn't be--when he notices that woman from the gym is also on the guard force. Makes about as much sense as him being on there. That makes at least two sleepers in a slightly elevated position, a better position to do anything in. Surely she must have some similar ideas on what should be done.

And talking to her is a distraction from the mundane little things a probationary officer is expected to do. He approaches in the hall, casual, though his voice is low. Wouldn't want anyone overhearing. "Fancy meeting you here. I don't suppose you've been any luckier than anyone else in finding out what's going on around here?"