damned_institute | Day 43: Chapel

And just like that, the disorienting feeling of blacking out just to wake up in an unfamiliar bed came again. Alkaid had wondered if it would - everything about last night had been different, all the way from the zombies to the eerie emptiness of the Institute to the strange broadcast at the end of the night. Had the Head Doctor been shot? Damn, someone had gotten to it before her. And who was the voice at the end there? It was like she'd been allowed access to some kind of strange mystery that she could not understand, one that had been going on for a long time before she had arrived and would be going on for quite a while in the future, after she was gone. Had these strange sets of circumstances been bugs in this place's programming? Who could say?

The morning's intercom greeting was strange, as well. Federal training whatsit? It didn't seem like this happened very often, from the sound of it, but so much had happened since the last day she remembered that the former Demon Palace Emperor was ready to take pretty much anything at face value.

The room she woke up in was still empty. Wondering where to stick the half-cracked bat that she'd picked up last night, she shoved it under the mattress hastily when she heard footsteps in the hall.

The stupid nurse was the same as ever, though. Some things never changed. "Ahh, good morning, Eileen. It's so nice to see you awake."

Alkaid rolled her eyes at the nurse's chuckle, and shook her head. She didn't care that the NPC thought it was nice, she just wanted to see the rest of the institute already.. see what had changed! "Yeah, it's fantastic. Whatever! Just take me where I'm going and be done with it!"

It was just then that she realized that she was not wanting to devour the flesh of the nurse in front of her. And that the pain on her arm had kind of abated - she couldn't see through the thick bandages they had covered her arm with, but she wondered if her skin was still rotting off like a zombie. Had they somehow cured her infection overnight? Or was the nurse not human, like Alkaid had always thought?

There was only one thing for it: she had to go somewhere else.

"Chapel, sun room, or cafeteria, then?"

"Does it look like I care?"

The nurse sighed, then started walking Alkaid down the hall, up the stairs, and down another hall to the chapel. No one here yet, huh? That was weird. She couldn't imagine that no one else'd show up, but who could say? This place had been turned on its ass.

The chapel was empty so far, and kind of nondescript. She shooed the nurse away, and stood in the middle of the space between the pews, standing akimbo. What would happen today? What would she learn about herself... her situation? How long had she been sleeping? Was she really still going freaking undead, or had that been somehow taken care of?

All this would come to light really soon. She hoped. Geez, too many mysteries!!

[unwittingly awaiting Haseo]

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"I believe I just might know the feeling," said Javert wryly. He pulled out his own journal and flipped open to the notes he'd made, scanning them briefly. "The nurses only said that he'd had a stroke and was in the infirmary; judging from von Karma's own comments, a week is generally considered insufficient time for treatment. I suppose he was not lying in that regard, at least."

He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts; the following confession would probably be less than pleasant. "Before you continue, though, there is something you need to know. When I first met von Karma, he introduced himself as Karl Fuchs, and as I had no reason to doubt him at the time, I chose to believe him. He displayed some interest in the experimental sessions, and he gained information about your condition from me through the conversation that ensued. I do not know whether he has used that information against you yet, but he knows it nonetheless. In addition, your sister told me that his weapon of choice a week ago was a metal bat; he gained the whereabouts of the Activities Shed from me as well."

He took a deep breath. "I've unknowingly aided your attempted murderer, and for that I must sincerely apologize."

Miles wrote that down and underlined it. That much was definitely suspicious. "While I don't consider myself a medical expert, one week is definitely insufficient time to recover from a stroke. Depending on its severity, it would take a month, at the minimum, and if the damage was severe, it could have been fatal."

The expression on his face took a serious turn. The mental defenses that came up were instinctive at this point. The notes went onto the paper, fast and furious, and he made the connections one after the other. This was a classic ploy of the man's - making someone believe that he could be trusted completely, and using that false assumption to obtain information. It worked more often than not, and even when it didn't work, it led the way to twisting words and falsehoods that were so well-crafted as to be almost truth.

"You've done nothing to apologize for," he said a moment later. "You had no way of knowing the man's true nature. Also...in a way, I'm actually glad that it was you he spoke to and not someone else. Very few people would have admitted to what you just did."

Javert nodded. "Nor did von Karma display any of the symptoms I might associate with a stroke, though if the definition of the word has changed in the last few years, I suppose I wouldn't know. He also claimed that he might have been the subject of a bungled experiment, though I was wary of those claims even when I had no reason to doubt him. As far as I'm concerned, none of the doctors involved in those sessions would make a mistake of that magnitude."

It was at these times he wished Faust were still around; there were few doctors that he even liked, much less trusted, and what he needed right most of all right now was someone to fill him in on modern medical procedures. His investigation into the experimental treatment sessions would go no further if things stayed at this rate.

Javert frowned slightly at the thought, adding, "He did mention that he had some evidence that he had not gone the entire week undisturbed, as he'd discovered evidence of some procedure performed on him. He was clearly uncomfortable with providing the information, but I did not have the chance to ask for further details. Regardless of whether or not the procedure actually took place, I doubt his absence was intentional on his part."

His only response to Edgeworth's comments about his apology was a simple, "I know. I've been taken in before."

"I doubt the definition has changed - it's still a blockage or rupture of a blood vessel in the brain," Edgeworth said. "So, if he wasn't slurring his speech, he could think and communicate clearly, and he was able to move with no difficulty, which are some of the marking signs of stroke, that rules it out. And more importantly, he wouldn't have shown his face in public if he was showing any of those signs. He values appearance too highly for that."

It took every ounce of restraint not to laugh when Javert mentioned von Karma's claim of being the subject of a bungled experiment. That was not only a lie, it was an incredibly sloppy lie. That meant only one thing: desperation to cover up something. "I don't believe von Karma had undergone an experiment for a second, much less a botched one. We've seen enough of the aftermath of experiments to know that the doctors that perform them are highly precise in their work. A doctor would be fired before they were able to do a human experiment if it was thought they were capable of making a mistake."

Miles frowned at that next statement. "I would believe that he hadn't gone the week undisturbed if there was any sign that he'd had an intravenous line inserted - was he wearing a bandage on his hand or in the crook of his elbow? If not, I suspect that, too, is a lie, one calculated to garner some sympathy."

"It was clear that von Karma didn't believe what the nurses fed him about his condition, either." Javert had taken out his own journal by now and was also taking notes, the pen fairly flying across the paper as he listened. "However, I'm still not sure if he was actually aware of what occurred during that week, or if he was indeed unconscious as he claimed to be. I suppose it's a matter that requires further investigation."

He nodded slightly at Edgeworth's line of reasoning; there was little else to say to that. "Precisely. This would be the first time I've heard of anything going wrong during an experiment. It seems far too convenient for me."

Intravenous lines were completely foreign to him, but Javert tried to think back nonetheless, tapping his pen on his journal as he tried to remember. At last he shook his head with a touch of resignation. "I've gone so long in this place, bandages no longer stand out to me. I wouldn't have thought to look at his arms anyway; I was focusing on the stroke. Even if a bandage had been there once, I rather doubt it is now."

"I agree, it does merit further investigation," Edgeworth said, underlining a few words of his notes. "To be honest, the unconsciousness is more believable to me than any actual procedures being done. It matches with my own brief experience in the infirmary a few weeks ago. I suspect I was under heavy sedation the entire time, as I remember very little."

He nodded in agreement with that second statement; there was really nothing to say to that.

"That's fair," he said, nodding. Anything else he would have said was cut off by the jarring noise from the intercom. "That voice is definitely from a machine," Edgeworth said, jotting down the message. "I'll look into it further - and speak to Franziska later - and get back to you. Merci beaucoup, M. Javert."

"I've experienced nothing of the sort myself, but as far as I know this is hardly an isolated occurrence. Von Karma probably wasn't lying about not knowing what happened, in that case."

His nurse appeared like clockwork as the intercom switched on, and Javert stood up, inclining his head slightly to Edgeworth. "Your efforts are much appreciated. Likewise, M. Edgeworth."

Day 43: Chapel

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