damned_institute | Day 62: Sun Room (4th Shift)

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Day 62: Sun Room (4th Shift)

What an unproductive day this was so far. Doing nothing but sitting on a couch, watching the bulletin board and thinking too much about things...if only his injuries weren't keeping him from getting some decent exercise. (If only he hadn't let himself get injured, period, but...)

This shift, Zero was left with nothing to do but sit around, without the promise of a useful conversation like last shift with Nigredo. It wasn't like his other option was any better, though. Showers, already being a waste of time as they were, just sounded very uncomfortable, if not impossible, to do while wearing a sling and a cast. So when his chatty nurse came up to him at shift change and tried to get him to follow her to the showers, the once-Reploid refused to budge. She seemed surprised at his refusal, tossed a few 'why not's and 'we can do this and this to protect your bandages so they won't get wet's at him, but he stubbornly shook his head at everything she said. There was no way he was going in there in this condition. Too much effort for no gain. Why did getting clean matter so much, anyway? It had only been a few days since the last time he'd bathed. It didn't matter.

Thankfully, the nurse took pity on him (only because of his injuries, he was guessing) and gave up trying to persuade him to move. She left him alone with his thoughts, and the once-Reploid carefully reclined on the couch and lay his uninjured arm across his stomach, staring up at the ceiling.

... He supposed some quiet time to think wasn't all bad. He was feeling much better emotionally than he was this morning, mainly because he'd had time to let recent events sink in. Zex and Ema's fates had hurt at first, but by now he'd managed to channel most of that hurt into more resolve to fight. His conversation with Nigredo had helped keep his mind off of things and was enough to leave him wondering for awhile, even though figuring out what to do about Landel was more important than that right now. And, he had a new self-assigned mission for tomorrow via the bulletin board - to assist Ema's sister Lana in any way he could. Not to mention he'd learned about the existence of a town outside of this place....

...Alright. On second thought, the day was not as unproductive as he'd been thinking it was. Didn't mean Zero wanted to spend the rest of this shift just lying here, but at least he could say the times he was doing so earlier in the day weren't a total waste.

[free!]

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Afternoon, and still nothing from Okita. Taura was covered in sweat; she'd had a good time out on the field, but now she wasn't exactly fit for enclosed spaces. So she didn't argue with the intercom barking out orders to the showers, or the staff looking ready to enforce it with any means necessary. Unlimited hot water was another one of their schemes, she suspected, but it wasn't going to hurt anyone to take advantage of it while it lasted.

When she stepped back out of the showers a few minutes later, there was a note with her name on it.

At least he was still here. He'd been the one to post Asuka's goodbye -- she didn't like the idea of two people she'd worked with disappearing at once. They'd lost too many people, of late, and it was hell on morale. Hers, included. So she scrawled up a cheerful note and went to lurking near the board as well as a two-meter-tall woman could lurk in a small, well-lit room. (Which, since she could move very quickly and very silently, was enough to startle several people. One of the staff had taken her for a section of wall, and leaned up against her; she'd found it a lot funnier than he had, and her rumble of laughter had provoked the rest of the responses.)

[Okita]

After a quick shower and then a longer time to dry his hair with that noisy gun-thing, Okita finally made his way out into the Sun Room again. He was still feeling ill from this afternoon, having to take a short rest in his room during lunch to eat, and now had finally emerged again. It was strange, he realized, how quickly he was being eaten away, but somehow he had the feeling this sickness wasn't what the Head Doctor was going on about - and that it was something much worse. He kept his head up, though, just in case Hijikata was in the area, and went to check the note he'd put on the board before his shower.

Taura had responded.

And she was nearby. He quickly took both notes off the board, folding them and hiding them in his pocket before he looked around. It wasn't hard to find her considering her great size and the enclosed space. She was nearby indeed, trying her best to stay inconspicuous. His usual smile brightened upon seeing her and he moved over, mentally ticking off a list in his head.

Chin up, hands casual, smile, keep your eyes wide and alert, ignore the feeling of heaviness in your limbs, step lightly now - you are healthy and well and just need to talk to her.

All lies, of course, but convincing enough to him that he knew how to play this part without needing to act. He stopped a few feet from her and bowed. "Good afternoon, Taura-san. Thank you for waiting for me. Shall we sit?"

"Um, sure." There was a couch and two chairs facing it, all unoccupied, and she made a beeline for it. Once there, though, she hesitated for a moment, and then dropped down onto the rug. It would put her head below Okita's, rather than towering over him. She was disappointed in him -- he hadn't shown up for two nights in a row, but she's also agreed to work for him, and this was the kind of command-chain snafu that she probably should be used to, but wasn't. Not using her height as a blunt instrument of intimidation seemed like a good starting point.

She didn't smile, though she wasn't frowning, either. Just concerned, and radiating it through her eyebrows like some sort of high-tech Betan emotional communications system. Or maybe that was a bad thing to think; Betans could read a novel of nuance in a blank sheet of old-fashioned paper: concern and bizarre sexual innuendo were probably only a few millimeters apart. Best not.

"Are you all right? We couldn't wait any longer, last night." By day, waiting was no problem. It wasn't like there was much else to do besides work out and eat -- the waiting was the hardest part, really. "I'm glad you're still here, though."

Her displeasure was palpable. Or was it his imagination? Was it concern? Anger? Frustration? A little bit of each? Okita kept his own discomfort from his face, seating himself lightly on the couch as Taura chose to sit on the floor. Her height was always a factor in their meetings and once again, he was impressed by her sensitivity to the situation at hand. Pulling his legs up onto the couch like always, Okita settled himself in against the pillows and turned his head away, coughing a few times. As the evening drew closer, he could feel that darkness wheedling its way back up through his chest and the feeling was nauseating.

"Yes...I'm sorry about last night. Something delayed me from reaching you and by the time I made it to the rendezvous point, you had all moved on already." A likely story, believable with the delays that happened here, but not at all true. He'd been trying to get his breath back the entire evening and even now, it was hard. It was probably just his imagination, but he thought he could hear his lungs rattling as he breathed, straining under the pressure even as the air went in and out with little effort. "But what happened was unacceptable regardless. It was my failing as a leader, and I accept that responsibility."

Best to be upfront. This wasn't going to be a pleasant meeting; especially when he knew he couldn't and wouldn't explain the reasoning behind his decision. "Unfortunately," he began carefully, meeting her gaze steadily. "I don't anticipate my participation to get any better - in fact, it may become worse. There is something I must investigate that will only be of detriment to the club." Lies. All of it. But pretty ones. Neatly tied up and packaged, thrown down without any hesitation. Souji had never been very good at human relations, but he was even worse when it came to pulling his punches and when it came to this subject - he wasn't about to pull anything. "I haven't told Hijikata-san this, but I'm considering stepping down from leadership and removing myself to a strategist position instead. As next in command, you were the first I needed to tell."

Next in command. They'd never formalized anything, really, but it was nice to hear it. Like the first time Miles had called her Sergeant, when she was covered in grime and worse things and yet all he saw was potential.

"Um. Thanks." There was so much to ask -- to talk about -- she wasn't sure where to start. So she went with the mission report. "We made it through the second trial, so it was probably for the best that we didn't wait. I'm a little worried about what's next -- I've heard a few things, but nothing sure."

"But," she added, her expression sharpening. Her upper lip slid back, just a bit, even though it didn't expose anything other than normal, human teeth. "Detriment to the club? What do you mean by that?" Investigation, sure. The Dendarii sent people off on secret missions all the time, and half the time they didn't even know where the Admiral was -- or who he was, really, but they generally didn't admit to working at their own cross-purposes.

"It's not something I'm at liberty to discuss," he replied, moving so his hands were folded neatly in his lap. Everything about him had to be calm as he gave this news. Any telltale fidget, a glance given in the wrong direction, anything could give away more than he wanted, especially since she was looking at him with such scrutiny. He'd seen himself in the mirror during the shower. To his own eyes, he looked tired, but his nurse had said he was looking better than before. He really had no idea what she had meant by that, but whatever it was, he was doing better than those who had come down with whatever cold was going around.

"But I will say this; my participation in club activities will become sparse, and that alone is a detriment. A leader out of touch with his people is not a leader at all." He'd always been the first to step onto the battlefield and the idea of falling behind was disgraceful. It left a sour, rancid taste on his tongue and he wanted to spit it out. "Also, be wary down there. People who come from there cannot talk of it, but I know that death awaits if you're not careful. Push below only if you're ready to walk into a trap."

She listened to his explanation, such as it was, and said nothing. If she had to guess, it wasn't quite the truth, but it wasn't a lie, either -- he was hiding something, he could tell it if he wanted, but he didn't, and he was asking her not to push it.

She wouldn't. He'd never done anything to betray a trust before except to fall asleep, and that wasn't always voluntary. So as he moved back to talking about the basement, she leaned back, stretching into a lazy sprawl. It was, as always, a deceptive pose, but she was as relaxed as she ever got in a place where she couldn't control the environment.

Death. That's what Taura'd been hearing, not said outright, but easily picked up. The fact that people literally couldn't talk about it made sense; brainwashing and altering memories were already commonplace. If all they'd done is stop people from explicitly talking, well, that was no big risk. Not compared with the other.

"I'd wondered about that. There have been a lot of deaths -- do you think more people are making it down there?" She shrugged. "The rings have really been an asset." Which led to the fact that Landel had given them the rings in the first place, and reminded them of the basement. "He wants us down there. Any idea why?"

She was leaving his reasons well enough alone and Okita closed his eyes, dropping his head slightly. It was good to know that she would let him keep his terrible secret without prodding, but it also made him wish he could tell her. It would be the second time he died here. The first, apparently kept secret by Hijikata himself, and thus not something he could easily bring up, but the second time... He opened his eyes again, catching her as she leaned back into a more relaxed position. The second death would be one that could not be hidden.

"There have been many reasons for people to die lately," he said, with only the faintest trace of a smile on his lips. He wasn't sure what sort of emotion he should show in this situation, so he hovered somewhere between his usual mask and his actual feelings. "What is interesting to note is that our population is shrinking and yet more people are willing to face what lies below."

Recklessly, even. People were growing less afraid, more bold as time passed and the sensation of urgency took over. Everyone had this rushed feel about them now, as if they'd drawn their lines in the sands, found their groups, and were quickly and somewhat blindly rushing toward the unknown end. "I don't know what is beyond the basement, but I know there is something. My roommate goes somewhere at night, somewhere we can't talk about, and it seems important. Perhaps there is another challenge that lies ahead - something that has to do with why the military would be interested in this place, and why Martin Landel would use a curious word like 'multiverses.'"

He smiled fully now, looking down at her. "You wouldn't happen to know anything would you? It's such a peculiar word and he shouted it when he was dragged out of here the day the military came."

She hadn't been in the room when he'd shouted, but she'd heard the word. "Multiple universes. They have to be bringing all of us from somewhere, and our stories don't line up."

"The night the doors all turned into wormholes -- we ended up on Cissnei's planet, and the stars were all wrong. They're wrong here, too, if this is Earth." She was beginning to doubt that, even if the gravity was perfect. "There are aliens here. Magic. And I met a guy from Jupiter this morning. Cyborgs, but no wormhole drives." Human bodies were remarkably resistant to technological enhancement -- jump pilot's implants still killed a small percentage on installation, even if she'd never met a pilot who thought anything of the risk. She hadn't ever considered it; she didn't have the natural knack for it, and, while that wasn't strictly necessary, she'd always seen ships as a means to an end, rather than a goal in themself.

"It can't just be time that separates us. I don't know how he does it, but he's grabbing us across universes." The jumps didn't feel that different from wormholes, really. Nausea and disorientation and instantaneous transfer. "Why not just recruit an army, I don't know." Tech like that, and he could hire an army. Admiral Naismith might like him, if he didn't pretend to be too charming, and had a good reason for all of this. Which were probably both impossible, but Taura wasn't sure.

What a strange thing... Okita listened to Taura's explanation, trying to wrap his head around all the technical terms he'd never heard before. Wormholes to him meant insects crawling through wood and it took him a moment before he realized she was talking about the curious effect of the doors several days to a week ago. The day when the doors opened to rooms they should not have opened into - and Okita and Kenshin had been forced to run for their lives through a tunnel that dropped rocks onto them. He tucked all of Taura's information away as best he could, resolving to ask about some of these things later - cybords, wormhole drives, Jupiter. It all went mostly over his head up until the final bit.

It could have been a throwaway and yet the words struck him as particularly strange.

Why not just recruit an army.

Why not? Why?

He dropped his gaze, hand coming up to his chin as he thought. "Why not just recruit an army...." The military clearly had a hand in this. The people brought here were clearly extraordinary according to their worlds. The variety of recruits were enough to constitute an army indeed.

But why not recruit here, from this world? Why take all the time and effort to draw in others from different worlds, times and universes?

"...Perhaps there's no one left he can recruit," Okita mused to himself. "And the enemy that lies ahead is one that the people here, even with their technology and advancements, cannot conquer." It was certainly something to think about. Something important that Okita couldn't quite put his finger on.

"So it's just us?" Taura was good, and some of the other fighters here were in her league, but... "If we're it, that's a piss-poor excuse for an army." A few dozen fighters, a few dozen civilians. "Even before we start attacking each other." And General Aguilar and Landel at each other's throats, but that didn't surprise her; neither of them were men who shared power. It was far too like home for that.

Which brought her back to Okita's warning -- far too many death notices, in the last few days, and most of them hadn't sounded quite right. Like someone trying to hide friendly fire as an equipment malfunction, it was obvious and completely counter-productive, but it didn't quite tell her what was happening.

"Maybe it's resilience. Survival, not success." Her nose wrinkled. She'd equated the two, but success had gotten bigger than merely living. Even as the clock ticked down, her horizons got wider. "It would explain the illness."

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Day 62: Sun Room (4th Shift)

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