The Meeting

I knocked on the door of Adam’s hotel room to find a gun pressed to my forehead. I’d expected him to be angry I ‘followed’ him, although technically since I arrived before him he followed me, but not this angry and after the initial shock I put my hands up and said so. He was immediately apologetic. It turns out he was expecting Proxy attack. A significant amount of the hotel staff turned out to have also had a similar experience and he’d been smothering any altercations with the police with hundred dollar bills for the employees and a flash of an FBI badge for the cops themselves. Which I couldn’t believe worked but wasn’t going to knock.

As part of this anti Proxy demeanour, he’d trapped the window with a flashbang, which I only found out when I pulled back the curtain. Thanks, mate. He also threw a grenade at me. I knew it wouldn’t be live but that doesn’t help the small bit of the brain that goes ‘ohshitgrenade’ regardless. I instinctively batted it away and then glared at him.

All in all, not a good start.

“So how did you find me?” he said.

"You've got a pretty distinctive getup. All I had to do was ask people "Hey, have you seen a bloke who looks like he walked out of a nineteen thirties detective novel go by?"" I replied.

I knew he probably had the coordinates already, but I couldn’t resist the chance to Sherlock Holmes it up. I laid out a map of the area I’d marked beforehand over the bed.

“Okay. The lab is definitely not within this radius." I pointed to the area surrounding the town that looked like a circle made to fit the mountain contours. "This is the distance that can be traveled in a night on foot."

"But, the lab must get its supplies from somewhere, since a self sufficient complex would take up enough land to get noticed. Thus it must be within this area, a certain distance from a road, any road." I pointed to a different section, marked in red.

“And they'd need a supply of fresh water, so they would be within this area, close enough to rivers to get water, yet far enough away to avoid flash floods." A third, this time blue.

“And of course, they are definitely somewhere in the Hunter Mountains according to you, so here are the places where these conditions overlap.” I took a marker from my pocket and circled five areas.

“I’m glad you’re going through all this trouble, but it’s right here,” Adam pointed to one of the areas. I crossed the others out.

It turns out he purchased a pistol for me. He’d chosen it because it had a ‘medical and science symbol’ engraved on it, which turned out to be a caduceus and not the Rod of Asclepius. I made a joke about being mistaken for an Oathbreaker anyway. I don’t know how to use it, and while he offered to train me we don’t really have that sort of time, so it’s going to be gathering dust in my pack in lieu of my trusty taser.

Amongst other things, we decided we’d make a start tomorrow afternoon, and then I left.

Roadtrip Part Two

I’m fine. Sorry if I worried anyone with that last part; Slender Man was indeed there across the street, so I hurriedly typed that out in case… what? I went missing? Seems a little weird in hindsight, actually. In any case, I wrote it, slammed the laptop shut, locked the car, and the staring contest commenced. Needless to say, I lost. Several times.

It must have gone on for two, three hours. I was wondering if curtains for car windows had been invented when a truck passed by and he was gone without fanfare. I definitely wasn’t going to sleep after that, so I took the doctor’s journal out of the glovebox, leaned the seat back and started perusing it. It wasn’t the best material to read at night, but my other books were in the boot and I had absolutely no inclination to go out and get them. My laptop’s battery was also suddenly flat, which is why I hadn’t posted or commented until now. It’s currently charging from the hotel mains.

I must have fallen asleep at some point, since I woke up with the book on my face. And in a different location. This had less to do with teleportation and more to do with the fact I’d been towed.

I spent a decent part of the morning being friendly and apologetic, since I long ago learned that people don’t so much care about your actions as how you act about them, and I wanted to be on my way as fast as possible. I presented and filled out paperwork and paid the fine. I was told that they’d tried various ways to wake us up with no result, including banging heavily on the windows, so in the end they just moved the car with us in it.

I will say this about Queenstown; costly it may be, but I have never found a better Japanese restaurant than the one in the main mall. I’d forgotten what tendon tasted like. Black had teriyaki sushi, since I was starting to get used to the operandi of just buying him whatever he was looking at, or if he wasn’t looking at anything on the menu, whatever I was having. I also bought a pack of energy drinks, since I could tell I’d be needing them.

And off we went, before my wallet could be sucked out the car window.

The mountains are beautiful in the sunlight, if you ignore that everywhere is covered in bush. I stopped off in Gore for no reason other than to look at the giant trout sculpture, which I think bemused Black, and we were in Manapouri within two hours.

I drove down the main street and was hit by a wave of nostalgia. There’s a lot of memories embedded in this place, good and bad, and they all came back at once. Everything was smaller than I remembered but it was all still there; that loose plank in the school fence, there was the playground with the roundabout that never worked, there was that tree…

For a second I wondered if coming back here had been such a good idea.

I stopped at the hotel, sorted things out with reception and dropped off our stuff in our room. It was still afternoon and there was time to kill so I took Black on a tour of old haunts I don’t think he was very interested in, ending with having fish and chips on the lakefront. Then it was back to the hotel to unpack. If Adam is hitchhiking as well as walking I predict he’ll be here in a day or so. It’s kinda nice to be ahead of someone for a change.

Roadtrip Part One

Music! Funny thing, Black actually does have a resemblance to Johnny. Can’t wait for him to be lucid so I can tease him about it.

I woke up this morning to find Adam gone and a note on the dining table saying he’d left for Manapouri. A day earlier than expected, but this didn’t affect my plans overmuch.

“Black!” I called. “Time to start Operation Tortoise and Hare!”

I’d spent yesterday juryrigging up a device to keep the rats fed and watered, and I already have backpacks filled with things you need for travel under beds and in various closets, just in case, so it was simply a matter of loading up the car with two of those and anything else I thought we might need. We were out of the door by ten, the traps reset and the house locked behind us. The rain had stopped overnight, so it was warm and sunny, if still a little damp.

Driving was largely uneventful. The plains receded and eventually became foothills, then mountains. We stopped for lunch in Geraldine, and since Black wasn’t stating any particular preference, I bought him what he just happened to be staring at, which was a sandwich. He ate it without complaint.

It was just after sunset by the time we arrived, and I realized one thing I’d managed to overlook; Queenstown. In the ski season. While I suppose it isn’t as bad as it could be - the school holidays are when things get really busy - what vacancies there were were expensive. As was dinner. The place deserves to be called the Tourist Trap Capital of New Zealand. In the end I’ve opted for sleeping in the car, uncomfortable as that’s going to be. I’d retrieved the blankets and pillows from the boot and Black has the back seat. After a little tossing and turning he’s currently out like a light, the lucky sod.

In case you’re wondering how I’m posting this, it turns out if you park close enough to the library you can still pick up the free wifi. It’s only one bar, but it’s enough.

heshere

Noir

So I have a detective sleeping on my couch.

He arrived at Lyttelton tonight. I wasn't expecting him to come by ship, but I rented a car and was at the docks holding a sign with his name written on it, purely because that's what they do in the movies. He was pretty easy to spot with his trademark hat and coat, and I waved him over.

Me: Hey, you Noir?
Adam: And you must be the one they call Med.
Me: That I am. The car's over this way.

We shook hands and I started driving him to my place, just as it started to upgrade from drizzle to rain. On the way we talked. I offered him a room, but he preferred the couch, which was fine by me. I joked that things would be weird with two Blacks around.

Me: So why are you here in good ol' Godzone? A place to avoid the heat, or on business?
Adam: It was the only boat leaving that night.

It was pretty much obvious that was a lie.

Me: Good, I'd hate for something to be going on right under my nose, so to speak.
Adam: Yes, that would suck. You wouldn't happen to have a map, would you?
Me: Oh, has Google crashed? Yeah, I have maps. Bushwalking tracks, that sort of thing.
 Adam: Google? Oh, that internet thing.

I couldn't help thinking 'oh, you poor man' for a split second.

Adam:Good, I need to find my wa- Just would like to know the area.

He really is a terrible liar. I sighed.

Me: Okay then. I've got a few that'd do you well, got some things marked on there that aren't on the official maps. Don't get excited though, it's nothing classified. Just things like hot springs and glow worm caves and good fishing sites. Places to camp, whether the water's undrinkable, that sort of thing.
Adam: Anything in the Hunter Mountains?
Me: Oh, I don't know. Another lab, maybe? On my turf? ... Yes, my maps cover those too. You're in luck, they're probably the most comprehensive I have. I grew up around there.
Adam: Med, I am going to level considering the fact that New Zealand is your home. Yes, another Lab House is in the mountains, I am going to be going there... alone.
Me: Hell no.

He paused for a bit.

Adam: Look, if it wasn't so dangerous then I'd let you go senza problema but it is very dangerous and I don't want to be responsible for your death or injuries.
Me: Ha, when has the possibility of death or injury stopped me? Look. I know the area. I know labs. I can help. I'm not asking you to involve me in a firefight, just to let me search the place when you're done.
Adam: No.
Me: Fine! Fine.

I may have driven faster and braked harder than strictly necessary when going up the driveway. I deactivated the traps on the door with my iPhone, unlocked it, and checked on Black. He hadn't spontaneously combusted while I was gone, so I asked Adam what drink he wanted and then went and got  the maps.

I walked into the lounge with both to find Adam and Black reading paperwork. It was a list of names; some of the patients that the doctor whose journal Adam held had worked on, so I don't think much damage was done, but I still asked Adam not to give Black any more things to read. Then I set about spreading the maps all over the coffee table and getting them to line up.

Adam: Always this frantic here?
Me: Don't always have visitors. These past two weeks have been a surprise. Got it. Here is where we are, and here are the Hunter Mountains. Closest town, unless you count Monowai as a town, which I don't, is Manapouri.
Adam: Hmm.

He started writing in his own journal, a black leather thing.

Me: It's a full day's drive, maybe two. You're probably going to have to stop in Queenstown. Do you have a car, Mister Alone?

He said he'd walk.We discussed what he'd need and what the town was like, he tricked me into drinking vodka from his hip flask, I managed to stop him getting Black to drink from it, and he gave me the doctor's journal for study.

That's everything up to date. Time for bed. He's leaving for the lab house in a few days, which should give me enough time to prepare.

Hectic Week

Wow, a lot of things have been happening at once. Sanna, Spyre and Carter all got kidnapped, and all had their respective situations relatively resolved. Kendra’s on the move. Johnny interviewed me. Incognito was severely injured and then severely healed. Some new people arrived.

R got both his arms removed. I was starting work on a prosthetic for Carter when I read he was already set up for one of a quality better than I could ever manage so I redirected what I’d already done into making some for him. My basement’s starting to get a little cluttered, what with the books on robotics lying open and bookmarked to an inch of their lives all over the place, along with wires, servos and shaped bits of metal. This is on top of everything that was there already. Anyway, when it’s convenient send me your measurements, mate.

Adam, I had a look over at those notes you sent me. You’re right in what the doctor was trying to do. He’d been injecting azoth (he calls it ‘the substance’ but it’s pretty obvious what it is) into the brains of people who came to the place for medical attention or were taken off the streets. Directly into the brains; he even installed little plexiglass windows in their heads so he could see what was going on. He’d keep them under heavy sedation for long periods of time, and the text later shows why; as you said, he was failing and badly. The subjects which received azoth in this manner were violent and unstable, the complete opposite of trainable, and he had a few close calls by the looks of it. His writing is dry and clinical, but I can still practically see the frustration and fear wafting off the words.

The section on the techniques used to break some of his ‘patients’ is interesting from a psychological standpoint and horrifying from an ethical one. He states that quite a few of the Proxies holding him hostage chipped in with suggestions. In the end it seems he could either get an obedient but harmless pet or an incredibly dangerous but uncontrollable one. Those he would euthanize when it was clear no one was going to get any use out of them, although apparently some are still extant. Any idea what happened to them?

The experimental notes stop abruptly; there’s no indication he was going to continue these experiments and no horror story style “I am about to perform this stupid and extremely dangerous action for no reason save leaving bloodstains on the paperwork or screams on the last few seconds of the tape”, so I presume that was where he wrote in the journal about his decision to escape. All in all, I’ve learnt some things to keep in mind in my own experiments on rats.

Ira, those blood samples of yours that you sent me are… odd, to say the least. I know you confirmed that they really were yours when I asked but I feel the need to ask again. Their copper levels are slightly over the far edge of within human range, which seems to be the ‘baseline’ for Runners. I’ve run the test a total of twenty times; it’s an average concentration of 26.11 μmol/L with a standard deviation of 1.2 μmol/L. From what you’ve said of your experiences on your blog, there should be more than that, a lot more. The only conclusion I can draw from this is that your blood azoth levels are not high enough for what you say happened to have happened. Make of it what you will.

All of this is leading up to the visit by none other than Fracture. He just turned up on my doorstep. I looked through the peephole, was basically ‘nope’, and walked back into the living room. You have to remember that unless someone’s posted pictures or a sufficiently detailed description nobody knows what anybody looks like.

He knocked, and I yelled “Nobody’s buying what you’re selling!” I couldn’t pretend to not be home since the fire was sending smoke up the chimney, so that was the next best thing.

So he teleported inside with a smarmy “Is that so?” I grabbed the taser from my pocket and told him in no uncertain terms that unless he was selling free hits with a taser he could teleport right back out again.

To make an already long post slightly shorter it’s probably best I put the rest of the conversation in transcript mode and compress the unimportant bits.

Fracture: Don't be so foolish. You invited me here. You told me where you live, how to identify your house, what to avoid, and all the great things you have here. How could I resist?

I thunked my head on the doorpost.

Me: Oh god. I know that syntax. That you, Fracture?

Fracture: You know my syntax? Feral robot sage?

Me: After a while, you can pick up voice through text. Why are you here?

Fracture: How many times to I have to say it, you invited me here.

I gave up.

Me: Alright, fine. So I did. Tea, coffee or milo?

Fracture: Just a tea cup, dear. I'll do the rest.

I threw a mug his way and he then mixed something up using hot water from the tap. I made two cups of tea and went into the lounge. Fracture followed and proceeded to hog the entire couch. There’s always something about a psychologist lying on a couch that’s a little funny. I set one of the drinks on the floor next to Black, then sat on the coffee table and took a sip of the other.

He then asked me about the deal I’d made with Jack; what exactly I’d lost and gained. I told him.

Me: Protection for a person and a place, until I die. You'll excuse me if I don't tell you exactly who, although you might be able to guess.

Fracture: You and here?

Me: Hahahano. Neither’s that valuable.

He dodged the question when I asked exactly why he’d made me a Sage, I teased him about his hat, and he tried to ship me and Black. I sunk that one with a flamethrower. Then there was a bit of a discussion about Slender Sickness.

Speaking of Black, at some point he’d stopped looking at the book in front of him and had started paying attention to us. I only noticed when Fracture made a ‘zsst’ noise at him, and then pointed away.

Black: Who's he?

Me: A friend, sort of.

My face was basically saying, in big neon letters, “NOT”.

Fracture: Who are you?

Black: Black.

And then what spark had been in Black’s eyes flickered out and he returned to reading. It was the longest I’d seen him lucid, and I said so.

Fracture: I caught his interest because I'm doing something he thinks I shouldn't be.

I thanked him for the book idea, and he explained a little on A.I. psychology. Machines given a game to play without any instruction on the rules or methods of determining the rules would have only a 40 percent success rate. This would jump to an 80 percent success rate if they were given the rules… and nothing else, not even a method to read them.

He then demonstrated by mentioning aspects of the book to Black, which got him responding again. I joined in, until I hit a snag:

Me: Are you liking it so far?

Black: I... don't know.

Fracture:  He has no context for liking the book. The book never references how it feels about itself.

Clearly, this wasn’t going to be easy. Fracture asked about the point of view of the book, and I told him it was a shifting limited third person perspective.

Fracture: Effectively teaching him to think like several different people all with different morals and goals and outlooks...

Me: Ouch. Yeah, if I'd realised what reading was doing to him, I'd've picked something else.

Fracture: You know what you should do then?

Me: Nonfiction?

Fracture: Uh... no. You're too confined. No imagination. You need to write him a story. One about a boy named Black.

Me: I see. I reckon I could do that.

Fracture: See, he isn't a true hollow. A hollow can't be what it was, traditionally. The strain that broke it is too painful to return to. It’s like trying to get someone to walk on a broken leg. They'll always fall. But Black just sprained his ankle. You just have to show him how to walk it off.

Me: …thanks, Fracture. Hang on.

Fracture: Whatcha got?

Me: I hate owing anyone anything so here. You wanted to know a bit more about my past, there's a clue. Pretty obscure.

No, I won’t tell you what I gave him. You can probably guess anyway, if you’ve read particularly carefully. He then asked for the notes on Black’s recovery once he’d made a full one, which I agreed to. We said goodbye and then he disappeared, as if he’d stepped between the frames of a film.

So I’ve got a story to write, but for now I think I’ll go to bed. I’ve been running on empty for some time now; the last time I think I slept a little was two days ago, and things have been getting fuzzier accordingly. I keep forgetting important things. Accidentally activated one of my own traps the other day; fortunately it was nonlethal. Heh, one of the lecture benches at university even had NOT ENOUGH SLEEP and NEVER ENOUGH SLEEP as a reply carved into it, so I’m taking that as a sign to get some. I’m not doing anyone any favors burning myself out like this, so for now, goodnight.