Who: Daniel, Blaise
Where: Medical Facility: Control Room
When: Day 20, afternoon, picking up from
Close Encounters with the Dead KindInvited: Locke, the Doctor, Megabyte, Scott, Alex (Dean, Sam, Jon and May when they return from their recon with something to report)
Status: Complete
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"Alex," Blaise said, "I'm not sure I'm understanding you, so let me see if I can get this straight." He paused, working out his question. If he was wrong, he'd feel a little foolish for asking. But things here were strange enough that his suspicions didn't strike him as ludicrous. And his daddy always said, "better to ask a stupid question than to make a stupid mistake."
"When you say you'll answer questions but you can't tell us what we want to know otherwise, are you...are you saying you can't offer unasked for information? Or just that you have no idea what we'd find important?"
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Alex gave Blaise a beaming smile, one that reminded Daniel of a parent lavishing praise on a child who just figured out a particularly difficult problem. "I can, but not in a way that you would understand."
Daniel frowned. He actually paused and considered before asking his question, "Why is that?"
"My brain is wired differently. I can see it and say it, but it doesn't make sense to anyone but me. But if you ask, I can put all the sensible parts together."
"Alex," Daniel lowered his voice sympathetically, "Is this -- wiring of your brain -- is it natural or was it done to you?"
She considered, then nodded. "Yes."
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"Alex, do you know of a way we can get off the island? One we haven't discovered or thought of yet?"
Dr. Jackson's raised eyebrow wasn't entirely unexpected, but hell--every once in a while the "it can't be that simple" solution actually worked.
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She shook her head, "I don't know what it is. People leave, or left, I think, but it's been a long time. And I've been here forever. Most of them have too."
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No pen and paper was at hand other than Daniel's, so Locke moved to one of the computer terminals and sat down. He'd spent far more time staring at a computer screen than he'd ever wanted working at the box company. Consequently he was reasonably familiar with Windows-like... (What was it Larry called them? Operating systems?) machines. This one wasn't Windows, but it was close enough. (Probably the Linux stuff swore by.)
"John, what are you doing?" Daniel sounded a bit worried.
After a few mouse clicks Locke brought up a text editor. "Writing out questions for Alex." Then he started typing -- fairly quickly, too.
A short time later he'd typed out all of the questions that came to mind. Some of them had probably already been asked, but a little repetition wouldn't hurt.How did ( ... )
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"Yes!" Scott exclaimed. He was eager to see how the device worked. The partially amused, partially impatient glances a few of the others gave him caused him to rein in his curiosity. "Um, when we're done here." He glanced at the list of questions John had written up. "What about other bunkers?"
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Alex hugged herself, looking down at the floor. Her words were heavy and it was easy to see that she was trying not to panic more. "Not illness. Not traps. Things. It's not all about . . . science. It's not all about what . . .you can . . .explain. You can't explain it . .. all with science somethings . . . just exist next . . . to science . . .and with . . .science and they're not science just . . . magic and myth and things that shouldn't ( ... )
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"Hey, don't everybody get up," Jon greeted. "We can just lean on the door for a little while longer."
"How long have you been standing there?" Daniel asked.
"Couple seconds," May answered, taking a swig of water from the bottle she'd grabbed. A bit of her wrist wrappings had come loose and a glint of metal could be seen on her right wrist. She didn't notice. "Sorry to interrupt, but is this 'Guardian' big, made of smoke, eats trees like toothpicks?"
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The second thing was a packet of crackers left on one of the desks. He honed in on them, seating himself in the space they'd once occupied, and snagged a few before throwing the rest to May. Hungry didn't even begin to describe how he felt, but there had to be a reason for this many people crammed into one room - and it looked like her name was Alex.
"Is this 'Guardian' big, made of smoke, eats trees like toothpicks?" May asked.
Jon nodded, hastily swallowing mouthful of crumbs.
"What the hell is it guarding? Not some dingy old bunker, that's for sure - it chased us right past another one. And who's this she you know all about? Carlson too. Are they in there?" he pointed to the monitors, then grinned innocently as his belly rumbled loudly. "Anyone got more food?"
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Turning his thoughts back to the Guardian, Locke sobered. "Yes, that was the Guardian," he told May. "You... outran it?" May nodded. Locke wasn't too surprised considering the young woman's acrobatics. Strangely, Jon looked sheepish.
"I don't know what it's guarding," Locke continued. "I communicated with it not long after arriving here." That earned him a few surprised looks. "Actually, it communicated with me telepathically, and I'm not psychic.
" Something else 'spoke' to me a few weeks ago." He nodded at Blaise and Scott. "They were there. If it was the Guardian, it wasn't there physically. It was like I was dreaming while awake. It said that 'there are good ones and bad ones ( ... )
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