InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "White walls are scary..."

laurajones (laurajones) wrote in genome_project,
@ 2010-07-04 02:31:00

Entry tags:

emma tibbits, july 2010, plot

Who: Laura Jones, Emma Tibbits, Jacquelyn Pierce-Roswell, various NPC scientists
When: Monday night (posted a bit early!)
Where: The pier
What: The long-awaited arrival
Rating: Probably PG, PG-13ish?
Status: Complete

Laura paced the dock, her fingers locked tightly behind her back as she squinted periodically into the oppressively dark night. The moon's meager waning gibbous was barred completely by the army of grey clouds that had hung heavy in the sky all day, and even the ocean itself seemed to be hiding beneath a blanket of shimmering mist. The boat bearing Patient X-1 wasn't due to arrive until 3:30 am, but Laura had been in the vicinity since midnight, busily making last-minute preparations for the newcomer's arrival. Laura knew in her heart that all the preparation in the world would never actually prepare them for what was to come, but at the very least, going the motions made her feel better. She'd made at least seven phone calls to her colleagues on the mainland, and as usual they had been frustratingly vague about all things having to do with Patient X-1's arrival. Of course, now Laura was beginning to understand why - her journal entries had always been curious, but recently they had been downright disturbing, particularly the real explanation for why she'd been delayed in coming to the island. No wonder their superiors were being so vague!

Laura got the distinct impression that Patient X-1 was being sent to the island less for the sake of science and more for the sake of getting her the hell out of her facility, an impression that did little to help Laura's confidence. Nevertheless, Laura's faith in the project well well-nigh unshakable, and if this is what it took for it to continue, she would do everything in her power to help it along. Of course, that hadn't stopped her from talking to Emma and negotiating with her until she'd convinced Emma that the Jones home would be a better place for X-1, at least for now. Although working alone was not exactly an option, Laura had used her situation to her advantage, arguing that a smaller number of people in the house would more closely simulate the environment that X-1 was used to, and less stimulation would theoretically lead to a decreased chance of something going wrong. Although her charge over the patient would likely only be on a trial basis, Laura felt somehow safer knowing that X-1 wouldn't be in the Tibbits household, which held three children, all of whom were blithely unaware of X-1's very existence, let alone the scope of her power. It was a futile effort, Laura knew - it wasn't really where X-1 was on the island, but the fact that she was on the island at all that put them all in danger, but still, Laura liked to think that with Albert and Jamie gone, less people would be in direct danger. Somehow.

"Look!" Laura was jerked out of her thoughts by the sudden crescendo of whispers that spread through the tiny clot of scientists, and Laura's head jerked up to see what she'd been half-dreading since she'd seen that awful journal entry. There they were on the horizon - a dance of dull lights, the windows of the ship. "Here she comes," Laura murmured, half to herself and half to the others. Laura almost spoke to remind her colleagues that it was possible that X-1 would still be under sedation, but she decided against it. Best not to remind anyone of why she was sedated in the first place. The little group seemed to collectively hold its breath, and Laura's throat jumped into her throat as the ship, which, as Laura could now see, was heavily guarded, broke through the mist and slid silently into the harbor.

This is it, Laura thought to herself as the bridge was lowered. This is the moment that our lives change forever. The door swung open. There was no going back.

(Read comments) - (Post a new comment)

pierce_roswell
2010-07-04 03:09 pm UTC (link)

A cold, harsh light blasts across the pier, its brilliance momentarily staggering. The gentle sound of the waves lapping at the dock is broken by a chorus of clicks as safety catches and thrown off, and by a patter of footsteps as the guards take their places along the upper deck, weapons trained on the gangplank below. One of them raises a radio, and a stern, military voice booms out across the assembled scientists.

"Perimeter secured, Dr. Karzakoff. Patient X-1 is cleared for movement."

The reply comes across as nothing but static to the onlookers, but from within the depths of the ship comes a pneumatic hiss and the ponderous sound of shifting steel as some massive and unseen door creaks open. A constant rattle fills the air as some heavy object is wheeled across the metal floor, and, after several seconds, a trio of figures emerges from the belly of the ship. One man--tall, whip thin, with graying hair and a hawkish nose--and two women--they could be twins, each almost six feet in height, full figured, and clearly no-nonsense--step onto the gangplank, wheeling an enormous steel device between them.

One could only describe the thing as a coffin. Almost seven feet long, bolted shut, and welded along the seam 'twixt base and lid, it is an imposing device. A series of tubes run from an IV bag in a box at the side through the wall of the coffin itself, and a constant stream of a pale blue liquid courses through them, into what is undoubtedly Patient X-1. It slides slowly down the gangplank, straining to be free of its handler's grip, and finally comes to an abrupt stop upon the wooden boards of the dock, which creak onerously under the immense weight.

The tall man turns and walks back up the gangplank, disappearing into the depths of the ship once more, only to return shortly with a black glass face mask and a small handcart laden down with welding equipment. He sets to work, and sparks fly as the lid is slowly separated from the body of the coffin. It takes almost five minutes, and for the whole time neither woman makes a sound, their stance and expression making it clear that nothing will be said until they decide to say it. Finally the three lift the heavy lid, straining slightly under its weight, and there is a hiss of escaping air as the equalized environment is compromised. The three slide the lid across the coffin and step back, allowing it to crash unceremoniously to the dock, sending spiderweb cracks through a few of the less stable boards.

The elder looking of the two women turns to the assembled crowd.

"We've been cleansing the sedative for several hours now. She should be up and about any second, albeit rather awkwardly."

She waves a hand in the direction of the deep coffin, its occupant still obscured by the high walls of the crate.

"Patient X-1, ladies and gentlemen. She's in your hands now. Any questions?"

Her relief is almost palpable.

(Reply to this) (Thread)

lovelyemma
2010-07-04 06:55 pm UTC (link)

Emma looked from the coffin to the handlers and back to the coffin again. It seemed almost inhumane that such measures were taken to ensure the safety of the boat and crew. Still, she supposed that they were taking the necessary precautions for a reason, but that didn't make her any less glad that she was the only one from her family attending. The welding would have thrown Jacob over the edge, solidifying his notion that bringing Patient X-1 to the island was a terrible idea.

She wrapped her arms around herself, despite the warm weather. The atmosphere on the dock was chilling, from the cold, detached attitude that the handlers were showing right down to the uncharacteristic mist rising off the surface of the water. It seemed like a scene right out of some horror movie, and Emma thought she could hear the others thinking the same. Only the loud clattering of the lid slamming into the wooden planks broke her from her thoughts.

"Jesus, this is dramatic," she said, softly, looking to her colleagues. None of them seemed amused.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

laurajones
2010-07-06 10:07 pm UTC (link)

Laura looked critically at the huge crate, her brow furrowed in puzzlement. Why had they wasted their effort with something so heavy and imposing? Surely, if this girl (was she?), this thing, was as powerful as Laura suspected, the box would be about as effective as tissue paper. And it looked like Dr. Karzakoff and his cohorts knew that too, judging by the obvious relief in their faces. There was no doubt in her mind now - Patient X-1 was most definitely being foisted upon them, whether they liked it or not. Whether they were ready for it or not. As the seconds dragged by, Laura wasn't so sure that they were. But then, what could they do? Laura gave Emma's shoulder a little, reassuring squeeze and her sharp gaze turned up to Karzakoff's face. She stepped forward. What aren't you telling us, she wanted to hiss at him. Why in the hell are you doing this to us? Don't know you know that we're all spread impossibly thin as it is?

But the question that left Laura's mouth was much simpler than that. "What are we supposed to do with the box?" She kept her tone neutral, despite the flash of disdain in her eyes. "It may have wheels, but it's too heavy for us to hide safely, and we'd like as few questions as possible. The children on the island were already starting to ask more questions than Laura was comfortable with, and they certainly didn't need any more. "Do you have any guesses about how long X-1 will be under? We can carry her back while she's asleep if there's enough time." A thousand other pertinent questions chased themselves around in Laura's brain, but she knew that almost all of them wouldn't be answered. After all, she'd asked them before and was met with avoidance, or sometimes flat-out hostility. And she was too tired to deal with that now. Therefore, her final question was another simple one.

"She wrote that her name was Jacquelyn. Is that what you've been calling her?" As often as she'd breathed the syllables of "X-1," Laura knew it was time for a change. Even Laura, clinical and label-obsessed as she was, knew that people should have names, not numbers. She wondered whether her mainland colleagues had bothered to use the one they'd given Jacquelyn.

(Reply to this) (Parent)

(Read comments) -