Day 57: Lieutenant General Charles Berg's Office

[das_berg]

Between yesterday's trip to Doyleton and today's visitation hours, it had initially been difficult to find the time to meet with any of the Institute's subjects. However, the administration under General Aguilar had proved themselves efficient in maintaining order while covering its true identity for the sake of the civilians. Given who was in

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[das_berg]

The officer knew the moment his first visitor had arrived. His pocket watch was precisely set, and Berg had been clear about what time his subordinates ought to send him here.

Although the lack of greeting was certainly disrespectful, Berg decided he could let it pass for the time being. This gentleman had been kept in the dark about where he was going in order to minimize the chances of causing an unpleasant scene. After all, the subjects had rioted over smaller things in the past, and neither himself nor General Aguilar were particularly interested in another costly and time-consuming intervention. That was especially so today, when they had a civilian presence to deal with. Maybe they'd learn their lesson after Friday's disciplinary measures, but one could never be too careful when it came to matters of confidentiality.

Judging from what he knew about this "patient", it wasn't so surprising that he'd be worried about his father. Yes, many of the subjects here had their own problems, but eventually they would understand that there were greater worries over the horizon.

After turning with the man's file in hand, Berg gazed at the subject with a straight, unwavering posture that practically exuded professionalism. As a military officer who wore a more distinguished uniform than the men and women on the lower levels, he imagined his higher rank would become fairly apparent.

"Ah, Dr. Jones," he politely said. "I'm Lieutenant General Charles Berg." He gestured toward the chair in front of his desk. "If you'll take a seat first, then we can get to whatever concerns you may have."

He wasn't about to start answering questions at the drop of the hat, least of all for someone who immediately expected it. There had to be some mutual cooperation before they could get to that point.

[its_the_mileage]

Berg: one of Aguilar's top flunkies, if not the actual second in command around here. Indy recognized the voice from the intercom. The few announcements Indy remembered Berg's making had been informational, coupled with warnings about insubordination. He didn't recognize the uniform either, although it was clearly that of a senior officer.

Equally clear was that Berg was exerting his authority. Indy felt like trying to get the answers he needed by way of a quick punch or two, but even if he could take the officer, the place must be crawling with other soldiers. For now, he'd have to play along to have any real hope of learning anything from this meeting.

Grim-faced, he backed off and sat in the leather chair opposite the desk. He didn't quite match Berg's ramrod-backed posture, but he did make a point of sitting up straight to show he was going along with the program here. "All right."

[das_berg]

"Good," Berg replied with a nod. Although he wasn't necessarily opposed to offering Dr. Jones a cup of coffee, he could tell the man was intent on getting to his questions. There was no reason to prolong their discussion simply for the sake of doing so.

With that, he easily sat down in his chair. Linking his fingers together, he rested his hands on the clean surface of his desk.

"I can understand why you're curious to learn more about your father's situation," he added after a moment. "However, our people aren't 'keeping' him anywhere. If he says he's driving from his home every week to come visit you, then I imagine that's exactly what he's doing."

[its_the_mileage]

Indy didn't believe that for a second. It did give him a sense of the game they were playing here, though. Berg was almost certainly too high in the chain of command not to know if the military was holding "visitors" somewhere, which left two plausible options: either Berg was lying, or Landel's people were the ones who had Dad.

"All right," Indy repeated, trying to keep the flicker of disappointment out of his voice. Whichever answer was right, he had a feeling pushing wasn't going to change the answer he got from Berg. Better to move on and see what else he could learn in the limited time he'd have.

At the same time, though, the meeting seemed like it was ostensibly supposed to take the tone of a cordial discussion, at least so far. He might get more if he made a show of being willing to give a bit. "I'm sure it doesn't come as a surprise that I have a lot of questions, but you must've 'invited' me here for a reason. What did you want to discuss?"

[das_berg]

Although he doubted Dr. Jones completely believed him, he didn't seem to think it was worth pursuing that line of discussion. Berg, of course, didn't call people in here just to spread misinformation. Unlike Martin Landel, who had an obnoxious habit of speaking in riddles and using cryptic language, he was more frank about these sorts of things. A soldier had no use for such childish dramatics.

When Dr. Jones expressed a desire to know Berg's motives, the officer saw no reason not to answer him. "In truth, I'm quite interested to hear about whatever you'd like to talk about," he responded. "But, now that I have a moment, there is one simple thing I'd like to ask you before we move onto anything else."

He calmly regarded the other man with a neutral, dark-eyed gaze. "There's a man known as Marc who's been broadcasting radio messages at night. What can you tell me about him?"

[its_the_mileage]

So that was it. Indy wondered whether they actually thought he knew something about the radio announcer or had just picked him at random. They'd gotten the wrong guy regardless. He didn't particularly trust Marc--especially now that he was working with Landel--but he didn't trust the military either. He wasn't interested in informing for anyone without a better sense of who might actually be on the patients' side.

He could answer honestly, though: "Not much." But he needed to say something more than that. Sticking to his personal experience seemed like the safest bet. "I've never met him, or even seen him. I usually don't listen to the radio at night. Too busy sleeping." He cracked a wry half-grin at that one.

His gaze swept to the coffee pot and back. The fresh coffee smelled terrific, especially compared to the pink gruel he was expecting for dinner. Maybe he was being paranoid not taking a cup--but better safe than sorry. Indy forged ahead. "As for my questions, I'm not sure what you can answer. Information hasn't been very forthcoming here." Another wry smile. "I'll just pose a few of them as a sample: Whose jurisdiction is your military under? What's the purpose of 'Project 2911'? What are we all supposed to be doing here, and what are the odds we'll get back home again?"

He had to remind himself not to get his hopes up.

[das_berg]

The answer Dr. Jones gave didn't particularly surprise Berg. Marc was one man, so he'd likely only managed to make contact with a small number of subjects. Word often traveled fast, though, and so he was interested in any information he could gather.

"Fair enough," Berg answered with a polite smile. They both knew perfectly well that Dr. Jones didn't waste his nights sleeping, of course, but that could be their little joke.

His glance toward the coffee pot didn't go unnoticed. Berg wondered if he'd even accept a cup, but he decided to focus on the man's questions for the time being. They were on a bit of a schedule, after all. While his queries weren't necessarily surprising, it was difficult to answer so many at one time.

"You certainly don't hold back," he remarked. At least he acknowledged there might have been some matters he couldn't discuss. "Let's see..." Folding his arms now, Berg leaned back in his seat and paused a moment. "Our jurisdiction is considered classified information at this time. That's why we didn't share that with you the first day we assumed control of this facility."

The other questions were somewhat easier to answer, however. "Project 2911 was a test we chose to conduct the first night General Aguilar assumed command of the Institute," Berg explained. "The means to do so had been available for quite some time, but Dr. Landel never initiated it for whatever reason. Since Friday morning's riot wasted valuable time and resources, we decided to launch the test that night. The subsequent effects exhibited by some of the subjects provided us with valuable information."

As for their purpose, Berg didn't think he'd exactly be sharing any shocking facts, but he decided to answer to the best of his ability. "You're supposed to carry on with your day-to-day activities while trying to survive," Berg replied. "As you may have already noticed, many of the individuals here come from various backgrounds and possess a wide range of abilities. Our job is to study you in a controlled environment. Whether you ever return home or not depends on if we're satisfied with the end result."

[its_the_mileage]

So Project 2911 was a short-term test, not the name of the overarching experiment they were part of. Indy thought he remembered some posts on the bulletin board about ill effects during the night after it'd been announced, but he personally didn't remember anything unusual except a spate of lousy luck (and the fact that they'd answered riddles for a sphinx, of course). He might ask around later out of curiosity, but for now that project was a side issue.

Nothing Berg had said about the purpose of the Institute was out of line with what they'd all already speculated, but still, hearing official confirmation was jarring. And "various backgrounds" was putting it mildly. Indy felt like protesting that compared to the people here with fur and so-called superpowers, there was nothing unusual about him except the ability to tame lions, could he go home now, but sadly it didn't seem like a productive line of discussion.

But they weren't just studying the patients in a controlled environment in a controlled environment, he realized quickly. Landel arguably had been, with his apparent indifference to whether his prisoners lived or died, but the military had made it clear they wanted certain results--success against the absurd obstacles patience faced at night--and they'd implemented this system of ranks and pins to encourage them.

This wasn't a neutral study. Someone wanted something at the end, but what? Supersoldiers, like the Nazis? Some investor's personal benefit? How did they plan to translate the dubious "knowledge" to anything more concrete than satisfaction of their curiosity?

No way to find out but to ask. "And what are you going to do with the results once you have them? What's the point? Who benefits from knowing how we, say, cross a pit of lava?" His tone was deliberately light, but as he held up his burned and bandaged left hand, his frustration was probably evident. Landel might've come up with the death traps on his own, the madman, but there was clearly someone sanctioning it all on the other end. Indy wanted answers about who and why.

[das_berg]

Berg glanced toward the bandage. Obviously, Dr. Jones was referring to his time in the basement's Room of Fire. He could see why some would consider the lower levels a bit out of place when compared with the rest of the Institute, but he hadn't personally designed this facility.

At any rate, it was quite impressive that Dr. Jones managed to venture there and lived, though Berg hadn't expected any less from someone so skilled. He privately wondered how he and his comrades would fare in the Coliseum. There was no use in mentioning it, though. If Dr. Jones continued on his current path, they would find out in due time.

"The military certainly benefits from learning how individuals from different worlds adapt to a high-stress environment," he patiently explained. "Whether we make use of our findings, however, depends on if there's a need for it."

[its_the_mileage]

Indy's eyebrow shot up. "Then why not test us under high-stress conditions the military might actually face? Or does your army fight Zombis on a regular basis?"

He cut himself off. As easy (and tempting) as it'd be to shoot the messenger, Berg hadn't been the one to put this whole show together and he wasn't the one running it now. Indy needed to keep the lieutenant general here talking, not antagonize him.

Apologizing would be taking it a step too far, but he did settle back in his chair and adopt a more conciliatory tone. "Out of curiosity," he said, "is there a need? The Doyleton paper doesn't cover much beyond the annual apple pie-baking contest."

[das_berg]

With how little Dr. Jones knew about this world's state of affairs, Berg very well could have said that they engaged the walking dead in combat quite often, and the man wouldn't have had much evidence to contradict him. That didn't quite touch on what the military was actually dealing with, though, but the point still stood. Of course, he had no intention of sharing more information than necessary, and so the officer chose not to dignify that small outburst with a response.

Instead, he focused on the second, more reasonable question. "Due to the Institute's relative isolation, we see no reason to keep you updated on current events," he responded. "However, I will say that there may eventually be a need for what we're doing. Otherwise, we wouldn't go through the trouble and expense to run a program like this."

The Institute consisted of a wide range of technology, but it wasn't exactly cheap to maintain. Did the subjects honestly believe they did this because they had nothing else to do with their time?

[its_the_mileage]

Indy was about to retort that there was nonetheless value in their being informed citizens, but of course they weren't even close to citizens here. The case for keeping prisoners up to date on world news was a weak one at best.

Privately he wondered if the need was a lot closer and more certain than "eventual" suggested. Berg was right; you didn't go to the trouble of kidnapping people from all over hell on a whim. But it was clear Indy was going to have to get his news from another source. The shift must be close to ending by now.

"Just one more question, Lieutenant General. The patients who're 'released.' From our perspective, there's no common denominator, and they're not all getting killed at night." He leaned forward. "What happens to them?"

[das_berg]

That was an easy question to answer, and one Berg had no problem speaking about. Yet he could understand Dr. Jones' curiosity, particularly considering his position.

"People who've been released have managed to successfully integrate into society," the officer said in a calm, even tone. "They're living normal, productive lives outside of this facility. There's no need to worry about them."

In many ways, it was the same objective as a regular mental institution. Perhaps that was what made their program's cover story so convincing to the outside world. However, he could see why some subjects would be suspicious about that claim. On the other hand, how else could they explain weekly visits from former patients?