Night 47: Recreational Field

[hat_einen_vogel]

[From here]

There were no lighted guard towers out here and no heavily-armed patrols, and Prussia again felt insulted by the lack of security. It was almost as if they wanted him to escape! Until now, hardly a day had gone by without the control council making its presence-and his position-known. The sudden change in tune disturbed him more

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[quarter_english]

L loped across the grass, following Jones as they made for the far wall. His recollections of his last attempt at climbing it were hazy, but he did remember that there were some vines they could use to help pull themselves up.

"From what I recall of Lamperouge's timeline, it has been" -- there was a brief pause while he calculated in his head -- "almost three weeks, now, since Jack's death was reported. What struck me about tonight's announcement was how Landel seemed to want us to listen to any radio broadcasts that might be made tonight. It's more of the same.

"As to the knife... I really didn't know how they would deal with contraband they might find in my room. I'm not certain how it is that we return to our beds at night; there are several theories. It is also possible that, whoever -- if anyone -- is responsible for doing it, they are not the same people who police our behavior during the day. At any rate, I am not convinced about the privacy of our locked drawers."

Until he had more time to think about it, and another chance to discuss it with the man he'd met in the greenhouse, he had no intention of bringing up the theory that it might all be a virtual simulation. The idea was too outlandish to be supportable. At the same time, that was the leading argument against it: it could be used to explain any number of details which were otherwise mystifying.

The wall was close, now, and as he approached it, he raised the beam of his torch in a slow, cautious motion, picking out the vines. "There."

[its_the_mileage]

Indy, still jogging toward the wall, nodded his approval. These two weren't bad at picking up information, even with the bulletin board newly censored. Nice not to have to waste words, too. "I wonder what the odds are that there's actually some kind of resistance," was all he said. Jack's falling out with the good doctor he was fairly willing to buy, but it wouldn't've shocked him to find out that Jill was just more smoke and mirrors to distract them.

Then again, her apparent incompetence was almost an argument for her legitimacy. If Landel just wanted to cow them, why not give the appearance of an effective resistance--not just one girl, but a whole organization--that would surely break them out any day now if they just sat tight? As usual, following the maze of potential mind games was impossible.

He thought he was starting to figure out Ryuuzaki's M.O.: the guy thought of everything, but a lot of it was immaterial. As Indy saw it, it didn't matter whether the daytime staff was responsible for roping them in and patching them up or not, at least not in relation to the contraband; they had to be in on what was going on here, which presumably meant they'd play along with Landel's letting the patients have weapons. He suspected the game, as with anything else at Landel's, was about keeping up the facade of normalcy during the day--so a knife left in your desk drawer during the day would be undisturbed, while the same knife on top of your desk would probably walk off and maybe earn you a sedation on its way out.

He'd scaled the wall itself last night, but the vines were a welcome sight--familiar territory. As they got close, Indy switched the flashlight off and zipped it as far as he could into the same jacket pocket as the scalpel. The radio was more problematic (bad idea just to throw it over), but after some thinking he attached the clip at the end of the dog leash to the radio handle. With the device dangling awkwardly at his side, Indy tested the strength of the vines, decided they'd probably hold, and started climbing.

[herr_inspektor]

And then, to old enemies- that wall. While scaling it had hardly incapacitated him for the remainder of their journey, it had served as a somewhat untimely reminder that he wasn't anywhere near the general level of physical fitness as most of the other patients here. Claiming mind over matter was, of course, the obvious option, but when it came to survival there was only so much he could do without a firearm, and Lunge knew that all too well. Before he'd woken up at the Institute his neck had still been encircled with a painful collar of blotchy bruises; they might have been gone now, but their shadow was still imprinted in his mind in a blossom of purple and red.

Better to speak now while he still had the breath to do so. "I had heard something similar," he agreed, sizing up the vines tangling across the wall in front of him before switching his flashlight off and jamming it into his pocket. They at least looked as though they were capable to take their shared weight. "Jack working alone might have simply been an attempt to repair the damage his involvement in the Institute caused, but Jill's presence suggests a greater force than just one man."

He reached out to grip what he hoped was the thicket vine available and put his right foot to the wall, hauling himself up. His muscles tightened with the effort, but his grip was strong and the vine held. Good. It occurred to Lunge for the briefest of moments as he pushed his left foot against the wall, that L might need a hand getting up the wall, but the thought was fleeting; if Daniel Laurier had managed to climb the vines, L would do just fine by himself. If not? Well. It was unfortunate, but they didn't have the time to wait for stragglers.

[quarter_english]

"We won't know much about Jill's supposed presence until she makes a broadcast," L pointed out. "We are aware of the name, and that Doyle was said to have died just before her appearance, but we do not know why she disappeared. The best argument that she was not killed before I arrived is that I think Landel would have gloated over her death if she had been. Then, there is the matter of how much she had to do with Doyle's recent supposed return."

They reached the wall, and the other two climbed it in succession. He didn't like bringing up the rear, but it wasn't any worse than being the advance guard; of the three of them, Jones was probably the most capable, in physical terms, of handling anything that might be waiting for them on the other side.

As Lunge hauled himself over the wall, L turned and looked around, across the field. He didn't see anything worthy of notice. If I had, he reflected, it would already be too late. Satisfied that they had at least half a minute, he turned off his flashlight and stowed it in the pocket of his coat.

It would be a waste of time and mental energy to curse the situation that made wall-climbing necessary; at any rate, this expedition was dedicated to the satisfaction of their mutual curiosity. Jones and Lunge were quiet on the other side, which told him that they had made it over without injury and probably hadn't encountered anything unusual -- yet. He hoped their luck would hold.

He grasped a vine and gave it a tug; it seemed too weak, so he selected another. He knew that he was more wiry than he looked, and had little concern that he would be able to make the climb, but there was a moment of real worry for the knife against his back: he didn't want to snap the blade or cut himself. But as long as he didn't try to sit at the top of the wall and shove off from there, with a forward leap, everything would be fine. Instead, he would cross it on his stomach, making the drop as easy as possible. Although back would be to the landscape for a moment, the fact that the other two were already there made it relatively safe.

The vine was rough against his hands, and he did not immediately find a foothold. Once he did, though, he had little trouble moving up and over the wall.

[To here.]