sdatislife
in
damned
Night 48: M21-30 Hallway
Shinji was worried. He'd been waiting for a while - Kaworu still hadn't arrived. He didn't know why and as always his insecurities had begun to flare up. Maybe he'd changed his mind. Maybe he didn't really want to see Shinji. Maybe he'd simply been hallucinating the whole thing. Shinji glanced down the darkened hallway, flashlight dangling from his
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All day, he had taken minor satisfaction -- a pleasure that was real, but that he knew to be pointless -- in Landel's apparent discomfort. Reveling in mild, vicious amusement over the sniffles was all right as far as it went, in perspective, but it shouldn't be a distraction from what was being said.
More patients were to be experimental subjects tonight, with the indication that none had ever been selected twice before, and now would be. Why? He was curious about what the experiments entailed, but perhaps not so curious that he wanted to be subjected to them himself. Still, if they have not yet selected me, what are the criteria for a repeat performance? The question made him frown, and a small knot of anxiety began to form in the pit of his stomach: the scale of experimentation appeared to be much broader than he had previously understood. How much longer can I expect to avoid it?
Like any other fear, he would have to ignore it as much as he could; it would only be pertinent to him if it became a reality. Dwelling on the myriad horrors that might be perpetuated on him in secret, in a hospital, in the dark -- that was a waste of time. Only one of the atrocities could come to pass, might never come to pass, and even if it did, it might be one that he hadn't considered.
... Perhaps two atrocities, in time.
The emphasis in the second announcement was on "Jill" -- no, on a supposed "rebel in our midst" connected to her. Who could he be referring to? It's possible that some of the patients are in more active contact with "Jill" -- or were in more active contact with Doyle -- and are simply less forthcoming about it. This is good practice for undercover operatives. The insinuation, however, is that someone has been killed, or that Landel is confident that they will be.
We could attempt to visit the morgue to ascertain the identity of this person? Yes... but given the source of the information, it might be a bad idea. L remained suspicious of lures, no matter who cast them out.
He unlocked the drawer of his desk, and took out his radio and his knife. He hoped that Lunge and Howell would each bring their own knives, so the blades could be compared; he suspected that any marks on Lunge's blade would be similar or identical to those on one of the other two. Even if that wasn't the case, it was worth a look, and sometime soon, L could try to return to the same kitchen upstairs to collect more knives for comparison.
When he was ready, he turned his head to look at Abe. "Are you staying? This shouldn't take long. I only want to discuss a possible plan of investigation."
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"Of course. More organization among the more resourceful of us can only be a good thing." Abe found it hardly elitism to admit that most of the patients were either untrained or simpletons. It wasn't their fault, not everyone had the benefit of an analytical mind or years of government training in combat and investigation, but it did make them rather useless for anything but protecting.
Speaking of protecting...oh god, Scarecrow. "Do we know who they've taken this time?" Abe asked quietly, trying to hide his nervousness in the last of his food. He'd be long gone by now, there'd be nothing Abe could do even if he bolted out the door and ran upstairs. The last time he'd done something so foolish...best not to think of it.
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Indy counted rooms as he went; M25 was just past the halfway point of the hallway. He stopped briefly in front of the door to listen and caught the muted strains of Ryuuzaki's voice and one other--roommate, Indy figured, since he was one of the first ones in the halls.
No point in standing around. He rapped on the door with the knuckles of his flashlight hand, announcing, "It's Indiana Jones" loud enough to be heard inside the room as he did.
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He peered into the hall. Jones's torch gave off enough light that L didn't need his own to confirm that his visitor was alone. He stepped back from the door and swung it open, then moved back to his chair, and greeted the new arrival with a nod.
"Dr. Jones. Abe and I were discussing the experimental trials." He returned his attention to his roommate. "As I was going to say before Dr. Jones arrived, I have no idea who has been taken. Mr. Javert intends to look into their welfare later this evening, though."
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"Have they ever killed anyone they've taken, either by purpose or by accident?" While keeping his face and voice calm was no great struggle, Abe's nervous hands were nearly twisting his spoon in half.
Information. Stay clearheaded, Blue, stay the brain instead of the brawn. It was so much harder to stay calm without Red to do the raging and asskicking for him. Abe almost had to overcompensate to fill the gap left in their dynamic by his brother's absence.
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He'd never met Javert in person, just seen his notes on the bulletin board in connection with Search and Rescue. Most of his information on the so-called "experimental trials" came from the same source, but Indy thought he was fairly well up on the common knowledge about them.
"Not that I've heard," he put in, "but if they had, there's a good chance we wouldn't find out. Patients disappear all the time without any concrete cause; it would be easy to hide that sort of incident." The question was why bother, since Landel was cheerful enough about traumatizing the patient population in other ways. Maybe a public admission that staff had killed patients under their care would be a shade too arrogant even for him.
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The room was not so far from his own, and Howl found it easily. When he was just outside the door, he spared a moment preparing himself, rebuilding those walls that this place made flimsy and transparent. The motions of straightening his jacket and hair were as much mental preparation as they were vanity. Howl had a sneaking suspicion that he would need to be completely put together and without a single crack for whatever Ryuuzaki had to say. Not that it would particularly matter, since he had a feeling Ryuuzaki rarely had trouble seeing through whatever facade he put up. It was a matter of pride and completeness, though.
Once he felt ready, Howl put on his most sincere, harmless smile and knocked sharply on the door.
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There was an unfamiliar young man already waiting in front of the door when Javert arrived--one whom he had seen once or twice in the Institute but had not yet had the chance to meet.
Perhaps he was here for the meeting; perhaps not. He inclined his head in a gesture of acknowledgement and settled wordlessly back on his heels.
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If someone showed up who was uninvited, L could do little to stop them, except to refuse to talk. There was always the possibility that any uninvited guests might be a physical threat, but he thought it was improbable: they would come out of curiosity related to a found or pilfered note reading M25 TONIGHT, and they would not be sure what they might encounter there. If an opportunity to perpetuate carnage were the draw, there were easier pickings in lonelier areas.
As when Jones had knocked at the door, L hopped out of his chair, snapped the door open just wide enough to see who was in the hall, and looked out. By the dim light, he could see Howell and, behind him, Javert. He stepped back from the door, towards his chair.
"Please come in and close the door. Abe, Dr. Jones, Howell, Mr. Javert." He indicated each with a nod of his head, raising his eyebrows a little at Howell's attire. "We're just waiting for Mr. Lunge, now. Mr. Javert, we have been talking about the experimental trials."
[Order: L => Abe => Indy => Howl => Javert for now.]
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He turned back to Dr. Jones. "Has anyone found out the reasoning behind the experimentation? It seems a lot of hoops and formal ritual to go through if Landel merely takes power from the pain of others."
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Howell he recognized as the person who'd been with Keman the night of their run-in with the biting girl, and he recognized Javert's face as one he'd seen around plenty of times; Indy nodded in greeting at both of them. Howell's choice of clothes was strange to say the least, but perhaps Indy didn't have a lot of room to talk on that score.
"That's what I'd like to know myself," he answered, turning back to Abe. "I haven't heard many details about what exactly goes on in the individual trials, so I could only speculate about the overarching purpose. Maybe someone else has a theory, though." He glanced around as an invitation to the room at large, and specifically the two newcomers. As long as they were all here, it wasn't a bad idea to see what he could learn, especially from a source as authoritative as he expected Mr. Javert here might be.
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The others were an interesting bunch. It didn't shock him that Ryuuzaki had gathered up the best he could find, and he had certainly read the name Javert more than once or twice on the bulletin board. Howl mutually recognized Dr. Jones from the night Keman was mauled. (Honestly, nothing could keep that boy out of trouble.) They all looked very serious, so Howl smiled even more charmingly.
"Theories are all well and good," he interjected politely, adjusting his hair over his shoulder, "but it sounds as though we have very little in the way of details between the lot of us. Has anyone ever attempted to interview the victims?"
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He installed himself against a wall that afforded him a good view of the other men, folding his arms and thrusting his chin into his cravat. For a moment, he only listened, until Howell's question prompted him to look up.
"I have." He produced his notebook from his greatcoat pocket, flipping it open as he spoke. "I don't know how much you've been told, but I was investigating the experimental sessions with Miles Edgeworth until his recent disappearance. I have met with several patients and have scheduled interviews with three more tomorrow. My notes are detailed, if not extensive; Edgeworth possessed the better part of the information, and I was unable to acquire his notes after his release. I am willing to make copies of what I do possess, if you like."
Not, he added silently, without some censoring. There was nothing to be gained in giving them the patients' names; he had learned his lesson there.
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Minutes passed, marked by Lunge's continuing absence.
There was a chance that he had been attacked on the journey between his own room and L's, but it was only a small one; the areas around their rooms were generally regarded as safer than anywhere else. L didn't have the impression that Lunge would have elected not to attend the meeting. If he had been aware of another commitment, he would have left a message for "Lars." What else could have happened to him?
-- If he was not delayed en route, the most plausible explanation is that he was selected as an experimental subject. L felt a slight twist of dread. If that is the case... it's already too late to help him.
The experiments are conducted upstairs -- where? There are two areas which are not labeled on the maps I have, presumably because of the strength of the locks on the doors. One is just above one of the dormitory blocks, on the same hall as the morgue and the experimental laboratory, and contains a number of smaller locked rooms; the other is near a number of rooms which seem mostly dedicated to the day-to-day use of the staff. It is more likely to be the former than the latter...? Yes.
At the same time, he listened to the others discussing the experiments. Javert offered copies of the notes that he knew to exist. In response, L said, "Please, Mr. Javert. I would appreciate it."
They couldn't wait for Lunge any longer; he would have to go ahead with his plans.
L sat in his chair, hands folded over his knees, and spoke to the assembled company in a clear, articulate voice.
"Gentlemen. To begin with, please keep what we are about to discuss confined to us and Mr. Lunge, for the time being, and please hold any questions until I have finished.
"The first thing that I wanted to talk about tonight is the necessity of coordinating our efforts. I have been trapped here for almost a week. Some of you have been here as long; some of you have been here much longer. It appears that at least a few of the other patients have been here for a month or more, and many of those people have engaged in persistent efforts to explore and also to attempt to escape from the Institute."
Already, the ambient institutional smell was normal to him, difficult to notice anymore; he had acclimated in a way that wasn't comforting, and it irritated him. He showed no external sign of this annoyance.
"We spend our days in activities which are both dull and highly regimented; the entire purpose of our schedule seems to be to keep us as busy and docile as possible. We can opt out of some of these occupations, but not on a regular basis, and not to do anything other than sit and think, or write, or pretend to nap. It is impossible to gather useful evidence that is not only what is already obvious on the surface, except through hearsay.
"At night, many of us scramble for anything resembling a clue, in spite of hazardous circumstances. What unites all of us, apart from the obvious specifics of our situation, is a lack of demonstrable, concrete progress in any serious sense."
His gaze moved between the other men as he spoke, settling on one or another when that person seemed pertinent to the point he was making. His tone held a commanding element; not one that suggested that he expected to be obeyed, necessarily, but one that indicated that when he held forth on a topic, he was accustomed to people listening to him before they argued, and prepared to have to persuade them to his side.
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"Everything I have seen so far suggests that this place itself does not change from night to night, regardless of what happens, and that most information we may glean through that kind of exploration is intended to be useless to us... almost as if it's a stage setting. For example, the skylight in the Sun Room was shattered the first night that I was here, but only a few hours later, it was as if it had never been touched. Every file I have managed to look at has been full of useless nonsense. This is only a different way of keeping us busy; of decreasing the possibility of meaningful breakthroughs.
"All that said, I believe that we have no choice but to investigate our surroundings to the best of our abilities. The sameness of the place from night to night is the first thing that I would like to establish, perhaps through an experiment. Then, even if others have combed every accessible room, there are still rooms which are inaccessible, places which have not been mapped, and so on. Apart from that, we cannot be sure of the quality of previous efforts: there is no guarantee that a person who has searched a room has not missed something pertinent. But within our current company, there is little reason for us to visit a single area a number of times with no result, and risk missing another. To do so would be to risk -- no, ensure -- diminishing returns on our efforts.
"It is also im-- "
He was interrupted by the radio. He held up a hand, half-curled, with his index finger pointing up into the air: an indication that he planned to continue speaking.
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The place's properties also meant that if they planned any unified assault the entire thing would have to be carried out, fully and successfully, in a single night. When it was difficult just to get a gathering of this size together in one room and the threat of capture haunted even those who had already undergone their torments, it seemed an impossible task.
When the radio had finished Abe turned to L expectantly. "Please continue."
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