Nightshift 44: Main File Storage

[its_the_mileage]

[from here]No tell-tale insect sounds yet. Nothing trying to bite through his jacket, either. Indy brandished the aerosol can and moved toward the file cabinets, looking for the "P" section

Comments

[quarter_english]

L followed Indy into the room, then closed the door behind them.

"Yes. It seems unlikely that misdirection is the only element, although that could be the primary or secondary purpose of something which also fills another function."

He swung the beam of the flashlight over to the cabinets, clutching his pillowcase with his other hand. "I was told that a few people I know have been here in the past, but the use of false names complicates matters -- the only one I know is that of a current patient." Still, he thought, it might be possible to find one of their files, if they were given a false name in some way resembling their real names. On the other hand -- "Their residency here, also, would postdate any possible purge

[its_the_mileage]

Jesus, Indy could have kicked himself. He hadn't even thought to check if there was a file for Dad in here. Looking for a folder for "Harry Lucas, Sr." immediately shot to #2 on his to-do list.

What did he think of the visitors-as-former-patients theory, he mused as he found the right drawer and began to thumb through it. The time travel wrinkle made it hard to tell. Even though they hadn't been close, Indy was pretty sure he'd've heard about it if his father had disappeared anytime before Fall 1938. Anytime after Indy himself had been taken was fair game. But then, maybe he wasn't thinking big enough here--given the technology Landel had, there might be no reason why he couldn't send someone right back to when they came from, with all the memories of this place brainwashed out of them. Even if former-patient files existed for the "visitors," they could easily be falsified. How could anyone tell, short of somehow getting reliable accounts out of the staff? That would be like getting water from a stone

[quarter_english]

This caught L's attention; it left the cabinet he'd begun to rifle through and snapped to Indy's face.

Of course, there is no way to tell which information is factual, but... L moved back to his pillowcase, then pulled out his own file, opened it, and scanned over it. As he took in what it said, his expression shifted, going from inquisitive to irritated and resentful.

-- Preposterous... but enlightening, given the behavior of the staff so far.

"I think we can count on most of it being inaccurate," he replied, in a flat, dead tone. "Who was your visitor?" He began to flick through the folders in the cabinet again.

[its_the_mileage]

"My father," Indy answered, voice carefully neutral. "I'd assume his account will match up with what's in my file. Whoever wrote it is good, I'll say that for them. Just enough facts to make the whole thing sound almost plausible." It had been smart to throw Sallah and Marcus in there too, just in case hauling Dad in hadn't made driven the point far enough home: Landel and his goons knew who Indy's friends were, and they could get to them.

It was tempting to take a look at his own file, but he'd have plenty of time for that over dinner tomorrow. Maybe he and the new silent-type roommate could start a reading hour.

Where the hell was this thing? Pi-, Pie-.... Indy flipped to the front of the drawer and began to check again. Looked like Pierson really had been the guy's real name after all.

[quarter_english]

So he recognized his father, and vice-versa, yet their interaction mirrored what was in the file, rather than what Dr. Jones would have expected. It was consistent with everything he'd learned about the Institute so far, yet the people who he had seen from his own life, the people who were at the Institute as patients, seemed to be aware of what he knew to be the truth

[its_the_mileage]

"If you're finished, could you do me a favor? See if you can find a file for a 'Harry Lucas, Sr.' It'll cut down on the amount of time we have to spend in here." Indy was conscious of the fact that he was giving more information than he was getting in return here, but it wasn't as though his pseudonym was a state secret, after all. Besides, he still didn't trust these cabinets not to be buggy. Open the wrong drawer and they might unleash the swarm.

As he worked, he added, "If you can use a computer, there are some in the doctors' offices downstairs. You might have a better chance at finding some real files there, or at least dated copies of these." Or more lies--it probably depended on whether Landel was more interested in keeping them from anything useful or throwing them a bone on any given night. Indy was sure no one would find anything in those devices that someone didn't want them to find.

[quarter_english]

In an ordinary situation, L would not be willing to search through files for someone else, but here... well... what else was he doing? Apart from that, it would save time. This was only his second night in the Institute, yet already, he understood that it might not be a good idea to stay in any one place for too long. He made a soft noise of agreement, then began to flip through the files in the L drawer.

He paused, though, when Dr. Jones mentioned computers -- as if he cannot use them himself, or as if it is common for people here to be unable to. With a quizzical expression, he asked, "If? Is it an unusual skill, Dr. Jones?"

Two files pressed against the front and back of the tip of his long index finger, where he held his place in the drawer. No "Lucas, Harry" (or Henry, or any other official variation) just yet.

[its_the_mileage]

Whoops. Indy decided he'd better backtrack. The ratio of information-given to information-received was getting more skewed by the minute, and not in a direction he liked. "I'm a scientist. I try not to make assumptions," he countered. He left it at that. The simplest bluffs, in Indy's experience, were usually the best

[quarter_english]

It hadn't occurred to L -- a man from 2004, a man who had spent most of his life alone in a room in front of a computer -- that some people here might not be able to use them, even though he was aware of the rumors that some came from different times, and the fact that people he had known when they were teenagers had been present as adults suggested that it was possible. Even Lunge claimed to have been brought from a date almost a decade earlier than L.

He gave his head a tiny shake of annoyance. His analysis, his considerable insight, was based on the world he knew. In some ways, that will be useless to me here. How much "unreality" is possible? A failure to reset the parameters of his thinking might lead to a failure in a larger sense: he could be trapped in the Institute forever, or until his death. There is no way to be certain of how many people are conversant with various kinds of technology; even a poll would be relatively useless, since the responses would only be anecdotal and the patient population appears to shift on a