Day 56: Bus 3

[rocksthecourt]

Waking carried a sense of disappointment along with it for the first time in a long time. Klavier actually sighed in irritation when he realized where he was. Damn it all. So they hadn't managed to move quickly enough to cover as much ground as they had hoped. It was a shame, really. Last night had actually proven to be relatively productive. If

Comments

[its_the_mileage]

Indy awoke slightly fogged by what must be painkillers, nonetheless in pain, and swathed in bandages. His left hand was completely wrapped and immobile; his left side and hip had been dressed extensively. Obviously there were still some real nurses here

[toxicspiderman]

Another Saturday, another trip to the interview racks at Goodwill for pseudo-yuppie alligator polo and khakis. This time it was a powder-pink one with a matching v-neck sweater. They both still smelled like cologne. That shit was persistent in ways that even a crackerjack biochemist couldn't explain. At least it wasn't the same crap Laughlin had worn. Then he'd know they were just laughing at him

[its_the_mileage]

Sangamon Taylor was one of the last to limp onto the bus, wielding a cane now instead of leaning over Pilgrim's shoulders. Indy hadn't gotten any details of what the other group had been through beyond "robot dinosaurs with laser beam eyes," but it was obvious it hadn't been any more fun than what his team had done.

"It's possible," he answered, edging himself over on the seat to make room. Even that hurt. "I've spent a lot more nights than not getting attacked by the lab experiment of the day and never making it anywhere. If that's any indication of the average patient's progress on a given night, we probably were the most productive ones in the place." If you considered risking life and limb to get seriously injured for a trinket productive. Needless to say, in Indy's book it was about the most productive you could get

[toxicspiderman]

Giant boulders. S.T. managed not to laugh, though he did acquire a sudden interest in making sure he still had his credit card. Bet that made both sides custom jobs. It was a good thing they'd split the way they had. Wandering through the entire periodic table would have been a hell of a way to spend the night. Would fit the Head Bastard's perverse sense of appropriate behavior. Sangamon wondered how many they'd discovered by two-thousand-fuck-if-I-know.

"Sounds like fun." Like hiking on Spectacle Island. With fewer metalheads and PCBs or PCPs. Indy's thirty-first century equivalents were going to have a field day taking the harbor apart. Only big question was whether or not they'd be recognizable as humans, or if the Earth would have to wait for round two to get it right

[its_the_mileage]

"His tail? He was a robot with a tail?" The note of disbelief in his voice barely registered despite the questions, which concerned him. Through a lifetime of logic-defying, there's-got-to-be-a-rational-explanation events, he'd managed to maintain a healthy sense of skepticism, and Landel's was threatening to suck it from him after a matter of weeks

[toxicspiderman]

S.T. kicked back and watched Indiana Jones boggle at that one for a bit, his grin bordering on smug.

Then he moved on. Given that it didn't sound like he was pissed at D.C., there was only one real possibility for who Indy hated. Two, if he thought Aguilar had been around long enough to blame. S.T. knew some folks who'd trust the Bastard over the General just because one had stars on his uniform. He considered himself above such knee-jerk reactions. Landel had earned his place at the top of the vileness food chain. Aguilar had a long way to climb.

"Not a thing. I tried fishing on the bulletin, but the best I got was a few people short on reading comprehension and some vague alarmist bullshit about Cassandra being right." The former he should have expected. The latter he hadn't. Evasion and secrecy, fine, but near-hysteria was weird. "Said I wouldn't find answers if I kept looking down there, but he was mum on what I would find."

[its_the_mileage]

Indy'd read that too. So Taylor didn't have any additional information. He wondered if they'd have better luck tracking down and talking to the people who'd been down there, or if they'd get the runaround again--with their luck, probably the latter. "If his grasp of mythology is as tenuous as Landel's, I wouldn't worry about it," he deadpanned. "But that is a strange reaction. 'Go find out for yourself' I could understand, but at least one writer has warned us away repeatedly. Maybe he was threatened."

Well, it was far from the first prophecy of doom Indy had heard, and he was still in one piece. Scorch marks aside.

"I didn't get much chance to see what shape Scott and--D.C. were in. Are you three ready to go back down there tonight, or do you need time for your injuries to heal?" he asked. If Indy was honest, he should probably take a night off himself, and Dent and Peter were likely to be in the same boat. But he was reluctant to take a break when they were finally getting somewhere.

[toxicspiderman]

"Depends on what you want me for. Taxi driver, I can do. Another firefight," he said, holding up a hand and waggling it. "I don't think any of us are feeling so hot right now, unless they've got a hotline to better speed-healing." He hadn't gotten a good look at anyone's injuries but his own, but they'd all been beat up.

"We could always answer another riddle. Finish the matched set." He started to stretch, and then realized how many bandages that might dislodge, and stopped. "Or I could just make another beer run." They even had something to celebrate, aside from another day of not dying.

"Course, what do you want to bet something goes wrong today? Hard to look for raining blood if you're holed up in a basement." If Aguilar even bothered turning on the prophesy generators. It'd been too quiet, in terms of night-time freakouts, since the takeover.

[its_the_mileage]

"Depends on what else is down there," Indy replied. That should be obvious. "Another riddle should be safe enough, though. It might not be bad to have two sets of those trinkets--who knows how many of them we need." Or even if they needed them. Failing that, maybe they could arm a couple of rats and set up a little gladiator ring in the cafeteria. It certainly wouldn't be the most trivial thing he'd ever done at night here

[toxicspiderman]

In answer, he flicked the dogtags out of the neck of his shirt. Class B. They hadn't figured out on the board exactly how much shit you had to put up with before you got to be one of the big boys. Either they'd know soon or he was forever doomed to Pepto-Oatmeal breakfasts