Participants:
| Scene Title | Converging on an Idea |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | It seems that much of Endgame is slowly coming to similar ideas. |
| Date | Aug 10, 2011 |
Endgame Safehouse, Skinny Brickfront
It's not yet light outside, but there is a glow just beginning to touch the horizon. So early enough that pretty much everyone who went to bed last night should still be asleep. At least, the atmosphere of the house is restive if not entirely sleeping, a settled hush that'll soon enough be disrupted as the day truly begins.
There is, however, a second side to the coin. There always is. And for at least one, the day before hasn't even ended. A nervous energy settled in the pit of Devon's stomach that set his mind to turning. Restless thoughts that wouldn't be ignored but not in a way that would normally worry him. Though unable to sleep at all, he's remained in the room he shares with Graeme, pacing and counting cracks in the ceiling while his thoughts swarmed and picked over the presence of the robots, the people he'd spoken to regarding them. Trying to order ideas and thoughts.
Now, after the some-hundredth circuit around the small room, the boy has judged the hour late enough. Not proper morning still, but easier to ask forgiveness and the idea won't wait. Devon emerges from the room with his usual quietness, walking through the hall to check the common room first in search of Elisabeth.
For a change the blonde is actually still sleeping. Ygraine's on a watch shift, so she's in her room alone. Elisabeth's sleeping on top of the sleeping bag and padded cushions wearing a pair of stretch shorts and a tanktop against the heat. Her sleep is restless, though.
A look slants toward the kitchen. He could make coffee, and if not draw life from the bedrooms at least bring a peace offering for waking Elisabeth. Devon taps his front teeth together in thought before dismissing the idea in haste. He turns for the hall again, feet carrying him to the door where the two women sleep. The knock that follows is light, a brush of knuckles against the door, non-insistent. Kind of like the teen is considering waiting another three or ten hours.
She doesn't sleep deeply anymore. Unless she's sleeping snugged up against someone else. And sometimes not even then. The light tap on the door brings Elisabeth immediately awake, listening for heartbeats, listening for danger. She is still for a long moment, and then she drags herself upright in her bedroll and calls quietly, "Come in." The enemy wouldn't just knock.
The door is opened slowly, and no enemies or monsters enter the room. Not unless you count a teenaged boy as a monster. Devon, eyes to the floor, pokes his head between the door and the frame, shoulders remaining outside for the moment. He's silent for a moment, again that thought of coming back later. Then. "Um… I… sorry I woke you. Couldn't sleep, and… I… was thinking."
"Mmm. Must be what I smell," Elisabeth teases sleepily. "C'mon in. Do tell." She gestures him to join her, a wave of her hand inviting him to sit.
A huff of a laugh and a grin respond to the quip as Devon slinks through the doorway. He hedges further into the room, head shaking a little as he moves to sit beside her. "With the robots," he begins, rubbing absently at the back of his neck. "I was thinking… if there were some way we could disable one, but not like the other that I brought back. If we could stand to gain something from that."
"Alia's…. thinking along the same lines." Elisabeth leans her head back against the wall. "Much as it terrifies and horrifies her…. she thinks the only way to determine if they're all being controlled by clones of her consciousness…. would be to get close enough to one that's disabled so she can test the theory."
"Is that…" Devon frowns slightly. He hadn't known that was even a possibility. With a sigh, he shakes his head "I knew she was a technopath, but… What happened to her to cause that? And how do we capture one without destroying it?"
Elisabeth sighs quietly. "That I don't know… how to capture it. But…. as to what happened." She pauses. "It was my fault. I brought her in as a Redbird consultant to look at the AETOS drone that my FRONTLINE squad was using. It snatched her consciousness up… and took it to Staten, where they imprisoned her digitally for a time. My …. son and his friend broke her out. Got her back to her body."
Devon glances sidelong at Elisabeth, brows knitting together. "That's… I don't even want to know how that's possible. Don't blame yourself though. Like you said, easier to see things after they've happened." That hindsight thing. He shrugs slightly, turning his gaze down to his feet. "She's out now, and… There's got to be some way to capture one. —I'd go out there now if I could come back with one."
"No." Elisabeth is vehement. "Such a thing will be planned for with a full strike team if we choose to attempt it," she says.
The nod Devon replies with is is almost immediate, lacking a pause or consideration to contradict the decision. He's seen those robots fairly close, knows what they can do. "Figure something out. I'd like to go nosing around and find out who else knows about them, maybe an idea will come from it. What about that Hansen lady?"
"I touched base with someone who knows her well. I … " Elisabeth pauses and considers. "Well, I don't know what to think. I don't know the woman. But Jane hasn't turned me in to her… and she's kept the information that I've given her confidential so far as I'm aware. So…." She shrugs. "She says a lot of people are looking into the robot thing. So I told her some of what we know. She says if we can prove that it's Alia's consciousness in there somehow, she might actually have something to move on."
"Which leads back to getting one of those—" Devon's words stop, the following silence thoughtful. "What if," he resumes slowly, "we tried to get at the source of operations? Tried to infiltrate Miller Airfield or Staten Island?"
"Jesus Christ, you all have death wishes," Elisabeth swears, thunking her head back against the wall. "I'm working on it, Dev. I'm working on it. But infiltrating over there? That is just asking to get our asses kicked. Hell, they kicked FRONTLINE's ass the night I fled."
For a moment, Devon isn't sure how to answer. He shifts slightly in his seat, frowning into the dimness of the room. This time there is argument, but a sort that the teenager isn't able to put into words. Instead he sighs and drags a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I know. I…" He shrugs again. "…Sorry for waking you. I'll go so you can try and sleep some more."
Elisabeth reaches out and hugs the teen tightly. "I know you want to do something. I do too. Believe me. Sitting still here goes against everything in me. But we have to do it right, carefully, or we'll just get ourselves dead and accomplish nothing. Okay?"
"I know," Devon answers quietly. "If I could come up with anything that didn't have risk…" Trailing off, he shakes his head. Anymore, all there is happens to be risk. He reaches an arm around Elisabeth's shoulders to return the hug before standing and heading to the door. "Try to sleep some more," he says with a glance back, a half smile offered.
She nods slightly, still looking tousled and sleepy. "I will," Elisabeth says quietly. "And we'll talk more about it soon, okay?"
"Yeah." Devon nods as he steps through the door, closing it behind him.