Night 58: West Wing, South Hall 1-A
((From here.))As he stealthily moved through the hall, Spock noted that it was quiet and dark. He didn't detect other patients, nor any hostile lifeforms. Perhaps the rest of the way leading to Dr. McCoy's quarters was in a similar state
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L could hear the bitterness in his own voice, the urgent way the words rushed out. The fact that Edgar had begun with a jab on another topic suggested that he hadn't been a victim of the same circumstances, and that his roommate probably hadn't been, either.
"A number of side effects were reported today. I don't know if it will be safe to be around me, but it may not be safe for me to be alone, either. If you choose to continue with our existing plans--"
He hesitated. The thought of losing control of himself completely, losing the core of his humanity and understanding that it was happening, was terrible, almost sickening, and when he finished the sentence, he sounded defeated.
"Please isolate me if I become dangerous."
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His posture stiffened as he turned on his flashlight, his finger hitting the switch idly. "I saw the notices on the board, but to think they'd do this... I shouldn't be surprised." A part of him wasn't, in truth: he'd known all along the military would take any steps they saw necessary to achieve their goals; however, it was far more real when it hit so close to him.
The look on Ryuuzaki's face was most telling. Edgar could see the intensity gone from his eyes, replaced with something that was a far cry from the penetrating gaze his ally usually wore. To see him rattled was the most startling revelation.
Edgar stifled the anger building in his chest. "I would hate to waste the night, especially if their tactics are escalating. Who knows what the next few days will bring. You can trust me that I will take whatever measures are necessary, should the worst occur."
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Another, more ominous possibility existed: that those who hadn't recovered from the effects hadn't had much to say about them because they were still experiencing them. However, he hadn't noticed an unusual number of queries about missing patients. That tended to discount the more alarming routes of speculation, at least to some extent. The exception was Claire Littleton, whose name he hadn't known until earlier in the day. He must have been one of the last people to see her alive. If she had been able to see him in his current state... their conversation the week before hadn't been long, but L had the uncomfortable feeling that she would have laughed at him tonight. She would have been right to, he thought. But no amount of vigilance on his own part would have saved him from what had happened at dinner.
He hesitated, watching Edgar closely, then bobbed his head in a quick nod. "Remember that I'll be back to normal in the morning. We should probably--"
The radio crackled to life, and Marc began to speak.
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They did indeed hear about that last part, and more.
Edgar took in a deep breath, releasing it steadily in an attempt to soothe the ire that burned in him from what he was hearing. Using patients, sending them to do his dirty work, undoubtedly watching how they handled whatever task was handed to them to see if they were worth keeping around. Patients were commodities, test subjects with skills to be used. He'd seen a series of notes on the board discussing something along those lines, but to think the patients had gotten a potential ally killed, whether they knew it or not...
It burned him more to think of Terra's presence, given her background. She had been a weapon of the Empire- had Aguilar learned that, as well?
He forced himself to turn away from Ryuuzaki, hiding his disgust. "I wonder if this is a sign that they're getting more desperate," he finally said quietly.
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"Marc hasn't contested Landel's statement that Aguilar's group is illegal and that they're masquerading as an arm of the government. It seems likely that they began as part of the government; they might even still be considered as such from the outside. I wouldn't be surprised if Aguilar had other ambitions... still, I can't say for sure without knowing more about the situation. He must have superiors, people he answers to at least in a nominal sense. If he did have absolute power, why focus it here, on us, now? Why so much interest in turning a group of so-called psychiatric patients into soldiers?"
He shook his head. The radio announcement had left him with a number of thoughts, all jostling to be processed first; he'd have to force them into some kind of order.
Marc wants to make a plan.... If Edgar was willing, they could return to their rooms, add some warmer clothing, and head out to the ruined town; he'd like to get another look at it anyway. Because Landel was hiding out with Marc, some of Marc's restrictions might even have been removed, and meeting with Marc might lead to a meeting with Landel. It could be the chance to concoct a serious strategy... although the presence of so many armed guards would present major difficulties.
If L had been able to talk to Landel a week earlier, he would have wanted to arrest him; other patients would probably want to kill him. But now, Landel seemed like the best hope for getting rid of Aguilar and his troops. Landel himself seemed like he might be easier for the patients to beat than Aguilar, who was a more immediate threat, and L had a strong suspicion that they wouldn't be able to defeat Aguilar without Landel's help. First one, then the other.
At the very least, L would find it satisfying to get a good look at his initial captor.
It was because of this train of thought that another rush of anger came in tandem with L's next understanding about the situation, a rush strong enough to make the beam of his flashlight shake and falter from the clenching of his hand around the barrel. The way his gait also made the light shift and bounce mostly covered his furious trembling as he moved.
It's tempting to try to find Marc, but... I can't.
The injection--specifically, the chance that the substance in his veins could cause him to attack companions--meant that the idea was out of the question. Marc was the patients' only known ally in the outside world. There were probably others, but there was no way to contact them or to enable them to operate in the immediate area of the Institute, or know how hard infiltration might be for them.
At the end of the corridor, L checked the safety of their route, then moved to the next hall.
[To here.]
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