Hybridization - for makingitworse

[musicdied]

There's something off about the facility set in what Yelena suspects was at one point an old mine - there are the bones of what might once have been a town along the overgrown track she'd used as an approach. As important as it's apparently supposed to be, it's sparsely guarded, and that's not just her training as a Widow colouring her judgment. Sparsely guarded, but not entirely unguarded - by the time she gets through the secure door to the facility's server room, she has maybe forty-five minutes before someone realizes the guard she'd had to incapacitate has missed check-in.

It takes her ten of those minutes to interface and get the download set up, and a bit of effort splices her into the security feeds so she can keep an eye on any unusual movement on her tablet. The feeds are conveniently labelled by floor and sector and - there are too many. A subfloor that hadn't been on the schematics lurks on one of the cameras.

"If I was hiding something really nasty..." she murmurs to herself. Still, she wrestles with her options for a long moment, weighing the possibility of valuable information against the sense behind sticking to the plan.

She won't get another shot at this place. Possibility wins out.

She slips her exploits in, system failure to kill cameras and communications and mimic the atmospheric interference she'd heard the guards bitching about, and sets them on a timer, then slips down the hall to the elevator shaft. The elevator's already locked up on the top level; it's a long climb down a narrow ladder that reeks of rust, but she's handled far worse.

She hadn't been able to see much with the angle of the one camera on this level, and what she does find is disappointing. Crates, all numerically labelled, nothing clearly showing what may or may not be important. She winds her way carefully through the metal maze until she finds - another box. This one, though, is white and sleek, with controls attached. There's a screen that appears to be intended to monitor something, but it's blank, and poking carefully at the buttons doesn't bring up a display. Eventually, though, she finds the sequence to unlock the box, and there's a dull thunk, followed by a hiss as it depressurizes. She steps back carefully as the low hum of hydraulics lifts the lid up and back, a small amber warning light blinking beneath the blank screen display.

Comments

[makingitworse]

"A few people, yeah," Bob says, taking his hand back and looking around worriedly. "We all got recruited off the street. I mean, free food and board for a couple weeks for a medical study, it's worth getting poked with a few needles, right?"

There don't seem to be any other boxes the same size and shape as his, though, that he can see. And he can-- he can hear himself, hear the woman, heartbeats and breath and shifts in clothing. He can tell there's a person in front of him even when he's not looking at her. There doesn't seem to be anything else like that nearby.

"I-- think we're alone?" he hazards, just going with it for now, even if he's getting more and more confused.

[musicdied]

"I'm guessing it was more than just a few needles," she says, grim but not without sympathy - for him, and for anyone else who was desperate enough to bite at O.X.E.'s poison fruit.

"--Why do you think we are alone?" She doesn't think it's a liar's slip, but it's certainly possible that he remembers more than he thinks he does, even if it's hazy from whatever he'd been drugged with to get him in that box.

[makingitworse]

"I don't-- I just feel like we are? I don't know. It's-- it's weird," he stammers, tucking his hands up against his chest anxiously. "I can feel you. And I can hear me. And I can't-- can't feel or hear anyone else?"

He looks around again. "And, well, there aren't any other people-sized boxes with the same paneling on them as mine."

[musicdied]

Yelena frowns a little at that, giving him another evaluating look. "Are you a Guide?" she asks. It's unusual for them to slip through the cracks - but it's not impossible, especially if he's on the weaker end of the spectrum. And if O.X.E. is collecting lost Guides...

That could be very, very bad.

[makingitworse]

"What?" He looks back at her finally, brows furrowed in surprise. "No, no, of course not. Ordinary as I can be."

But there's something uncertain in his voice, now. No, he's not a Guide, but-- would that explain why he can tell she's standing there even if he's not looking at her?

"You can't become a Guide in your thirties, can you?" he asks, with a self-conscious little chuff that's not quite a chuckle, not unless it's a very nervous one.

[musicdied]

"Not that I have ever heard of," Yelena says. "The latest recorded manifestation was at 16."

There've been theories about latent talents, people who have the genetic traits, but through some quirk of biochemistry don't have the power, as a way to explain why Sentinels and Guides manifest so unpredictably in the population. But it's never been proven, and this is hardly the time and place to mull over fringe theories.

"Okay, Mr. Ordinary. I am going to take a quick look to make sure there is not anything hidden by these crates, so we do not leave anyone behind. Do you think you can get the lid back on that box? If waking you up did not set off an alarm, I think we want to let these people think you are still here for as long as possible."

[makingitworse]

"Yeah. Yeah, I can do that." He'll let her check, and he'll-- maybe freak out a little bit because everything seems very weird right now, but he can do it with his back to her and her looking at something else.

He turns back to the box he'd come out of and starts doing just that: tugging the lid back down and finding a way to latch it, while hyperventilating a little very quietly.

[musicdied]

Her footsteps as she moves away to sweep between the rows of crates for any more suspiciously body-sized boxes are quiet - but not inaudible. Not quite.

Nothing. Just the crates, and while she would check those as well if she had more time - getting two people out will be much more complicated than getting out alone would have been. Especially when everything about the stranger in the box screams civilian.

[makingitworse]

When she makes her way back to him, he's leaning on his hands on the lid of the box, head hung down, but he looks up quickly at the sound of her footsteps. And her breathing. Why can he hear every creak and rustle of her clothes?

It feels like one of the super-sensitive highs he sometimes gets. Except he's pretty sure he's not on anything right now. (Oh god he wishes he was. A bad trip is better than whatever this reality is.)

"Anything?" he asks, giving his face a casual scrub, as if trying to wake himself up further. Or give himself something to ground with.

[musicdied]

Yelena gives her head a quick shake, and offers him a crooked little smile. "You were right - we are the only ones down here."

She comes up beside him, reaching up to give his shoulder a gentle squeeze, concern a sharp swirl in the air around her, though her expression remains calm. "Ready to get out of here?"

[makingitworse]

"Very," he says, and steps away from the box, ready to follow her. It can't be worse than staying here, and she feels-- like she isn't trying to trick him.

The cement floor is cold, but he's handled worse. He thinks. It feels like he can feel every pore in the concrete itself, and he knows his feet are calloused all to hell after the life he's led. It's so weird and disturbing. Maybe he really is high on something from the box.

He hopes there won't be any broken glass on their way out. "Will it be a problem that I'm barefoot?"

[musicdied]

She glances down at his feet and frowns slightly. "Not while we are inside. It will just be unpleasant. But we will need to get you some shoes on the way out. And a coat."

She closes her eyes for a moment, visualizing the facility's layout, then nods. "There is a bunkroom on the top floor. We can find something there. Or I will just knock someone out and steal their shit."

[makingitworse]

"Normally I'd say that's rude, but, uh, they locked me in a box first, so... I think shoes are they least they can give me, at this point," Bob says. He's really not liking the box situation.

He lets her lead the way out, asking after a few steps, "What's your name?"

[musicdied]

"You ask dangerous questions," she deadpans, though there's no sense of actual threat, just a decidedly dark strain of humour. "My name is Yelena. What's yours?"

[makingitworse]

He makes a soft, amused sound, as much in response to her sense of humor radiating from her as for the joke itself. "Bob," he answers, still with a little smile. It's not nearly as cool as her name, but then, he expects he's not nearly as cool as she is.

They're at the door out of the main room, and he peers anxiously ahead. "Are there, um, a lot of guards we'll have to avoid? Should I keep quiet?"

[musicdied]

"Hi, Bob," she says. "There should not be any guards on this level - there is just this room, and the hall to the elevator. But there are some up above. So yes, stay quiet, and stay close behind me."

She pauses, glancing back at him. "How are you at climbing?"

[makingitworse]

"Uh." He hesitates. He's actually pretty terrible at it. If there's a ladder, though, maybe he'll be okay? And really, isn't it worth it to get out of here? "I can do it if I have to. I just need to not look down."

[musicdied]

"If you need a harness, I can rig one for you," she says. "There is a ladder - you will not have to free climb - but it is a long way up." Relatively trivial for her, but she's well aware that she's both in better shape and more accustomed to that sort of exercise than most people.