12:10 PM ~ Day 6
Thomas picked halfheartedly at his meatloaf, trying to coax his brain into thinking. He couldn't stimulate his mind with the oppression of the hospital staff all around him. Dammit and blast it, the boy thought. He felt in need of some guidance and advice. Samantha and Steve couldn't help him there; they had settled back into what seemed their normal mindset, never cheering up. True, they seemed happy enough when they sang the Pokémon theme song, or played Pokémon Crystal, but it was a charade. Besides, Samantha had finished the Crystal yesterday.
There must be some way to circumvent the security system, said Thomas's brain. But how?
Then, suddenly, he almost fell out of his chair. Of course! When he had first been taken into this 'APA Wing', the others had been coming back to it! They were taken out, for some reason.
When he casually asked Samantha why, she answered him without even looking up.
"Ah, they needed to put in the new surveillance system. They take us out every time there's some kind of repair to be done."
Tom eyed the security camera near the ceiling, its red light flashing at him almost evilly, and realized it was the same kind that he had taken apart to make his Inter-Dimensional Transporter. They were easy enough to disarm, but repairing them was agony. A plan for escape started to piece itself together in his mind, and the old spark came back to the boy's eyes.
* * * * * * * *
The next day, in The Vent Room, he related his idea to the other children.
"I'll stand on a counter in the bathroom and dismantle a unit, then when they discover it, we should be taken to wherever you guys were...."
"The C&R."
"Ok, and from there we'll formulate an escape strategy. How long were you kept there last time?"
"About a half day," replied Samantha, as Steve nodded in assent.
"It'll take longer this time," the redhead remarked, "They can't just replace 'em; this brand of security alarms doesn't come with a warranty." They agreed, and he went to break the alarm.
* * * * * * * *
As Thomas returned, a voice came over the loudspeaker. "Attention APA staff. Repairs are required on the security system in your wing. Please escort your patients to the C&R Department on the second floor."
"Piece of junk alarm system!" Bradley Davis was heard to say. Moments later, he opened the door and dragged them out of the wing.
"Come on, come on," he said, as counselors tied them into straightjackets. "Got to get you to C&R."
They were steered down several floors. Thomas hadn't known it until now, but the APA wing was on the 9th floor. In his pants pocket, he had his tiny journal, full of notes from the Vent Room's walls. Soon, they were in a large room, the door of which read 'Contraband and Records Dept.'
Contraband? wondered the boy. Ah, this may prove useful.
Filing cabinets and bookcases lined the walls and formed aisles, making the room appear smaller. Their restraints were removed, and they were taken to three cots at the back of the room. The counselors left.
"What do we do now?" Thomas asked. "Do you have a schedule?"
"Nah; we're just supposed to sleep," Samantha answered.
"And stay out of the way of the C&R secretary." Steve added, pointing at a desk near the door. Thomas looked. A woman sat there, seeming not to even notice them. This was working out better than he could've imagined.
* * * * * * * *
Thomas woke in the night and crept along a row of bookcases. The secretary was gone. Yes! he silently cheered.
Where do they keep the contraband? he thought. He assumed they meant the stuff confiscated from Pokémon fans, but where? Putting that question on the back burner, he found the file marked APA PATIENTS: PACKARD-PERRY and pulled out his file. It read, in part:
Parker, Thomas Andrew
Hometown: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Hair: Red
Eyes: Hazel
Skin: Caucasian
Level: 98%
Contraband:
There followed an index of what he'd brought with him, then:
Stored in vaults 9, 10, and 11
If he planned to escape, he'd need to change this information to avoid recognition. Five minutes and one bottle of white-out later, the Thomas Parker on the hospital's file had brown hair, blue eyes. There was still the problem of the electronic records, though. He got on the secretary's computer, which, stupidly, had a Post-It note on the front reading, "Database pass: 87f9j"
In 3 minutes, the work was done. But he had to not give them a chance to notice it, which meant that he'd need to escape tonight.
A restroom door opened off the main room. After he finished his business, Thomas noticed another door. Through this one was a smallish locker room with a third door opening to outside. On the back of the door hung a keyring, and it was hard for Thomas not to laugh at the stupidity of these folks as he got his transporter. Team Rocket at their stupidest could have gotten in or out of here. He returned to the files to remove the device from his Contraband list, then wracked his brain as to whether he should bring the others.
No, he decided, he'd have a better chance to help them from outside. He left the hospital and snuck into the night, feeling as if he deserved a Gym Badge.
Thomas picked halfheartedly at his meatloaf, trying to coax his brain into thinking. He couldn't stimulate his mind with the oppression of the hospital staff all around him. Dammit and blast it, the boy thought. He felt in need of some guidance and advice. Samantha and Steve couldn't help him there; they had settled back into what seemed their normal mindset, never cheering up. True, they seemed happy enough when they sang the Pokémon theme song, or played Pokémon Crystal, but it was a charade. Besides, Samantha had finished the Crystal yesterday.
There must be some way to circumvent the security system, said Thomas's brain. But how?
Then, suddenly, he almost fell out of his chair. Of course! When he had first been taken into this 'APA Wing', the others had been coming back to it! They were taken out, for some reason.
When he casually asked Samantha why, she answered him without even looking up.
"Ah, they needed to put in the new surveillance system. They take us out every time there's some kind of repair to be done."
Tom eyed the security camera near the ceiling, its red light flashing at him almost evilly, and realized it was the same kind that he had taken apart to make his Inter-Dimensional Transporter. They were easy enough to disarm, but repairing them was agony. A plan for escape started to piece itself together in his mind, and the old spark came back to the boy's eyes.
* * * * * * * *
The next day, in The Vent Room, he related his idea to the other children.
"I'll stand on a counter in the bathroom and dismantle a unit, then when they discover it, we should be taken to wherever you guys were...."
"The C&R."
"Ok, and from there we'll formulate an escape strategy. How long were you kept there last time?"
"About a half day," replied Samantha, as Steve nodded in assent.
"It'll take longer this time," the redhead remarked, "They can't just replace 'em; this brand of security alarms doesn't come with a warranty." They agreed, and he went to break the alarm.
* * * * * * * *
As Thomas returned, a voice came over the loudspeaker. "Attention APA staff. Repairs are required on the security system in your wing. Please escort your patients to the C&R Department on the second floor."
"Piece of junk alarm system!" Bradley Davis was heard to say. Moments later, he opened the door and dragged them out of the wing.
"Come on, come on," he said, as counselors tied them into straightjackets. "Got to get you to C&R."
They were steered down several floors. Thomas hadn't known it until now, but the APA wing was on the 9th floor. In his pants pocket, he had his tiny journal, full of notes from the Vent Room's walls. Soon, they were in a large room, the door of which read 'Contraband and Records Dept.'
Contraband? wondered the boy. Ah, this may prove useful.
Filing cabinets and bookcases lined the walls and formed aisles, making the room appear smaller. Their restraints were removed, and they were taken to three cots at the back of the room. The counselors left.
"What do we do now?" Thomas asked. "Do you have a schedule?"
"Nah; we're just supposed to sleep," Samantha answered.
"And stay out of the way of the C&R secretary." Steve added, pointing at a desk near the door. Thomas looked. A woman sat there, seeming not to even notice them. This was working out better than he could've imagined.
* * * * * * * *
Thomas woke in the night and crept along a row of bookcases. The secretary was gone. Yes! he silently cheered.
Where do they keep the contraband? he thought. He assumed they meant the stuff confiscated from Pokémon fans, but where? Putting that question on the back burner, he found the file marked APA PATIENTS: PACKARD-PERRY and pulled out his file. It read, in part:
Parker, Thomas Andrew
Hometown: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Hair: Red
Eyes: Hazel
Skin: Caucasian
Level: 98%
Contraband:
There followed an index of what he'd brought with him, then:
Stored in vaults 9, 10, and 11
If he planned to escape, he'd need to change this information to avoid recognition. Five minutes and one bottle of white-out later, the Thomas Parker on the hospital's file had brown hair, blue eyes. There was still the problem of the electronic records, though. He got on the secretary's computer, which, stupidly, had a Post-It note on the front reading, "Database pass: 87f9j"
In 3 minutes, the work was done. But he had to not give them a chance to notice it, which meant that he'd need to escape tonight.
A restroom door opened off the main room. After he finished his business, Thomas noticed another door. Through this one was a smallish locker room with a third door opening to outside. On the back of the door hung a keyring, and it was hard for Thomas not to laugh at the stupidity of these folks as he got his transporter. Team Rocket at their stupidest could have gotten in or out of here. He returned to the files to remove the device from his Contraband list, then wracked his brain as to whether he should bring the others.
No, he decided, he'd have a better chance to help them from outside. He left the hospital and snuck into the night, feeling as if he deserved a Gym Badge.