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The day begins with Jon finding a statement to read. He's thinking about recording it on tape. When he keeps on investigating, he realizes the statement included a walkie talkie. This device, however, is nowhere to be found. The Archives' disheveled state worsens, if that's even possible. Artifacts checked, inventory records find nothing. Where on earth are these alleged objects?
Tim suggests the researchers upstairs might have to do something with it. Though, Jon does not listen to him. Sasha, being in the right mind goes to said research department.
"You're looking for this one?" Kyle says, the guy who only wears thick jackets perks up. He heard Sasha asking about a certain thing given by a statement giver. "I've had this– uh," Kyle stammers, standing beside Sasha in his freakishly tall posture, "I think they gave this to me a month ago. That person."
Sasha stares for a moment, this guy was just employed recently isn't he? Kyle shuffles, helpfully adding, "December 2, on a Saturday."
"You didn't put it in the artifacts?" A coworker of theirs asks, hand on their own face, in disbelief. "Nobody told me!" Uh oh, looks like the new guy had already done something. "Kyle Perch, my man..." Tim pats them on the back, appearing all of a sudden. "About that, Jon wants to have a word."
The researchers look at him, that doesn't seem good at all.
"You had this? For a whole month?"
Jon held the walkie-talkie. It produces static which is all Kyle hears in his ears.
"Uh.. yes."
That's when the man behind the desk leans forward, hands steepled. He breathed in for more than a second.
"Protocol calls for you to surrender any item that belongs to a statement giver into the artifact storage room in the basement," a bead of sweat fell on the stack of paper near Kyle.
"I should have been made aware." He wiped his forehead while Jon stared, barely intense and more exasperated.
"The research department prohibits us from entering the basement, and says that only directors should approach the archives."
"Good lord." Jon sighs "if they send anyone with less competence then yes, they should proceed with caution into the Archives."
Silence stretches, painfully awkward.
"If there's nothing else..."
"Yes Uhm, well." Kyle straightened, almost bumping his head on the ceiling. "On that day, the assumed statement giver made a turn towards me in the hall and just gave me the device." He continued, hand to his racing heart. "Obviously, I understand now that I should have said something. It was my mistake."
"I'll be sure to not repeat, Sir Sims."
Turning the knob in a frenzy, Kyle practically ran out of there.
Jon murmured to himself, "Sir Sims, really?"
"Jon? Can I come in?" Jon did not respond, just looked over his shoulder. He's too deep in a file.
"That researcher just now," Martin gently placed a cup of tea on the table.
"Did he seem, erm, odd?"
Jon murmured, "oddly terrified of getting fired."
"Ah- Yes terrified, I was thinking of that word." Martin replied, earning a glare from the other, "See when he came out of your office he had this bewildered face."
"We stared at each other then he almost tripped over his own foot trying to get out."
"Remind me to tell you to organize the files in the halls," Jon toned dismissively.
"I, okay-" Martin paused. "I'll be on it."
He walked on out, leaving a steaming hot tea cup behind.
It had been days after the incident with the researcher and misplaced artifacts.
Jon investigated the device on his own. But it provided nothing new that wasn't said in the given statement.
However, upon further examination, Jon finds some sort of secret compartment at some random time while standing outside the archives. He hears someone approach, and is quick to turn to the archives but he is too late. "Mr. Perch,".
Kyle blinked, "Sir." Followed by, "did you snap the radio antenna?"
"No." Jon guarded the handheld gadget with his body. "The model isn't supposed to have anything detachable-"
"There was no information online or any kind of manual." Jon said, now looking irritated yet Kyle stayed, "really?" He asked. Jon had to crane his neck to respond, "yes, unless you have the manual with you. I am not sure how you'd be able to tell."
Jon avoided him as he came closer. "Do you mind?" He said, practically half way through the basement entrance while Kyle tried to look. "I think the model is actually 13, not 18. Could be a manufacturing mistake"
The smaller of the two gritted his teeth as the conversation persisted. "Maybe, uh.. You could try looking that up instead."
"I'll keep that noted. Thank you."
The door abruptly closed on Kyle,
"ow! My foot!"
Jon didn't dare apologize. Fuming through the half organized basement hall. "13, not an 18?"
He tried his best not to think about it.
But perhaps, this time, Kyle wasn't in the wrong.
"How." Jon slammed the table. The sound echoing through the breakroom.
Kyle flinched hard, staring up at the archivist with that scared look on his face. "Pardon?"
"How did you know the radio devices' model version?" He brings his arms across his chest. "Did you research it and find other information?"
"Well I didn't," Kyle paused. A researcher not researching? Ironic, "But, I did see it when you held it up."
The other sighed. Reaching into his coat pocket,
Jon brings the walkie-talkie out, "there is a removable part, as far as I am able to identify. It's possible that this was altered by a user."
"I should have asked you already but who gave this to you? You must remember." His brow drew closer together.
Kyle held his hand out, Jon reluctantly gave it to him. "It was a man in a trench coat."
His sizeable fingers delicately examined it, but basically that's all he said.
"Of course they didn't tell you their name." Jon murmured. Just then he heard a click. More like a crack, a shard of plastic falling onto the table.
"Hah!" Kyle immediately looked at Jon,
"It's breaking!?"
Jon lunged at him. But Kyle dodged him, effectively letting Jon collide with the chair he sat on. "Bloodly hell, give it. Now!"
"Wait no- Ah, it's this one-" They both paused, "some debris.." Jon practically sagged on to the table. "I'm pretty sure this part was modified though. The speaker. Could the statement giver say anything weird happened with the audio? That might be why they gave this to the Institution."
"Of course, because they gave it without any reason, Mr. Perch."
"Sorry?"
"Save your apology." Jon finally snatches the walkie-talkie and walks off.
Jon had been busy, but the thought of the modified speaker still bugged him.
So as he worked on another statement he called in Kyle to come with Martin, see if they could find something within the walkie-talkie statement. Martinn wondered if Jon believed he couldn't handle it on his own. As he begins to worry about it, Kyle opened his mouth.
"So," Kyle said, "rain on the ninth and explosion on the tenth, which I'm sure destroyed the original model." He was now in front of a bookshelf, every single file skewed a different angle. Subconsciously, his hand began arranging each folder albeit slow.
Martin held another cup of tea, "Here". He pushes it close to Kyle. "Just be careful, it's a little too hot. Sorry."
Kyle's face contorted, sipping too quickly. He bit his tounge, "Nah, it's fine. Really." Martin watched, bewildered as the other immediately went back to the shelf. "Kyle, I think you really shouldn't read any of those materials." He warned. "No, I'm not reading. Just uh," Kyle looked over his shoulder, "arranging this section. Promise."
"What do you think happened on the eleventh then? They just," Martin sighed, "What? Replaced the model, and then..?"
"Then by the eleventh, they could have received the order."
"Right."
"But I think it's odd, they were immediately able to find a channel."
"Shouldn't they be able to input the number?" Martin asked. "I don't see why that's an oddity, the order should have been received by all of the soldiers which is why they know what channel to use."
"See, but what if, that day they only sent one command."
"...They technically didn't say anything about multiple orders that day."
"Right!" Kyle pitched, "okay, so, they all just assumed the truth because they weren't receiving anything else."
"That means the whole situation was left unchecked."
"Unverified, and if they made one mistake with inputting the channel,"
"Then," Martin added, noticing that Kyle was genuinely looking at him this time, "It's statistically harder to say that someone else was even on the same channel as the statement."
Instead of reassuring, Kyle paused. He straightened, having hurt his neck from staying at Martin's eye level. "That is, a dead end with a slim chance of ignoring our only possibly lead. No?"
"Wait, weren't you the one who came to this conclusion?"
"I'm just open to the possibilities. But yeah, basically." he shrugged, "but also no." Kyle murmured "In the situation someone was in that channel and if they followed that order similar to the statement they must have been affected by the catastrophe. We can't ask. I don't think so. The statement says they were alone.”
Martin was buffering like a computer from the conversation. He took a sip of his tea instead.
"Other than that, the other officers could have been ambushed, guerilla warfare. The tech would have been trampled, destroyed with the person involved. Chances of us finding anything feels even statistically lower."
Feels? Seriously? Martin kept his composure externally, but wondered how this man became a researcher when he never made any clear claims.
"I'm somewhat still stuck." Kyle pushed the last of the file straight. One section organized, approximately 900 more rows of misaligned folders to go.
"What do you do in the research department, Kyle?"
"Uh," Kyle broke out of his trance, as he answered plainly, "research. Technically more on the digitalization of works, fixing the printers and routers sometimes."
"You don't participate in investigations do you?"
"Well, no, they tend to send the more experienced folks. I'm just someone on the sidelines, usually."
"Ah, I see." Martin glanced at the table.
"Your tea has gone cold, Kyle. I'm sure you won't burn your tongue now."
"Oh yes, tea." He spun, grabbing the mug and another file. Kyle flips through the pages, "This reminds me, it was said that there are no official records of deployment that time?"
"The file? Yes, Sasha and Tim tried to look for it just weeks ago but just as the statement said there were nothing they could find."
"How odd." Kyle took a sip, then he hummed in recognition. He said something inaudible as he read through the file, then he pointed at a paragraph "Orca manufacture model number 13. Did you find anything like that?"
"What?" Martin perked up from behind the stacks of paper. He used the arms of a chair to lift himself up. "Could you repeat that again?"
"It's the model of the device," He explained, hands instictively pulling a desk drawer. Kyle realizes this isn't his office, and that the walkie-talkie isn't in his possession anymore. "Just, we need to look it up, try to see if any other services have made their complaint maybe?"
Martin almost fumbled, seeing Kyle tried to open his desk drawer on his table. "Okay, uhm, let me just-"
"Here-" Kyle held out a hand at the kneeling man. Then he pulled him up with a surprising amount of force. A stack of paper falls into a mess somewhere on the floor. "Ah!"
"My bad. Uhm, do you have a laptop?"
The other grabbed onto what surface was near, barely avoiding crashing into Kyle. Martin nodded, heart racing ever so slightly. Was it the sudden contact? Good Lord, Focus! "Yes uh, Let me just, get it. We'll get to searching as soon as I find it!"
He hitched between his teeth. Looking at the monitor and reading auto translated instructions. "Nothing?"
"Nothing," Martin responded, "Unless there's some code we can find a reasonable lead on, this website is barren for us."
"I never knew they even had a website to begin with. Tech has really come a long way hasn't it?" Kyle had already taken Martin's mouse and started scrolling. At one point turned off the translation and stared at the symbols.
"You.." Martin turned to Kyle, "you read chinese? That's.."
"Oh no, I don't."
"Oh."
"Yeah I really thought I could find something different. I'll exit the tab and we'll just organize till the Archivist asks us questions-" Kyle's ramblings halted when the other grabbed his hand and tore it off the mouse. But it was too late. Martin let out a squeak when his tab history showed on screen, something to do with thesaurus, dictionaries and words that rhyme with... The page disappeared quickly as it came, Kyle blinked. "Okay."
"Yes, let's just uhm. You help me organize the hall instead." Martin was avoiding eye contact. How much did Kyle see? Did he catch on to what he was up to? The man was dreadful.
Then, he heard a stifled laugh, turning around, Kyle covered his mouth with his neckline. "Sorry, it's just-"
"What's so funny?" Martin mumbled, he shook his head, "honestly, your humor is broken."
"Nah, it's just I look up the same things too. You just acted like I saw your secret files, do you react much?" Kyle waved his hand across his face. "It's really nothing man."
"You say that.." Martin began walking, "alright then, your humor is still broken. I couldn't have reacted that badly right?" He said with nervousness.
"Yeah, no, like you said, I find random things to laugh about."
"We should really get to work, Kyle."
"Yes yes, let's get to it mate."
"So basically," Kyle says, his hands gesturing openly. He stood just across from Jon.
"We found nothing online, no leads, no mistranslations."
"Right." The clacking of his keyboard continued until he finally looked up, Jon asks, "Is that all that you've ought to tell me? Martin? Do you have anything else?" He raised an eyebrow. Martin had not expected Jon to look at him, “That's all we found. I could e-mail you the websites containing the manuals."
Jon sighed, closing his monitor with too much force. "I won't need it. It had only been insisted by Sasha that I try looking for more leads before I digitalize the statement." Kyle looked down, piles of paper around them and some boxes toppled over. He was distracted by Jon's not so organized desk in front of them.
"Ultimately," Jon continued "I appreciate the both of you taking that task out of my hands., I'm just disappointed neither of you found anything. I can't do much about it-"
Martin was dying inside. About not being able to help, or about Jon himself, actually, how long has he been awake for? He should really get some rest.
On the other hand Kyle slightly lifts his hand. "Mr. Sims, the device is in your possession isn't it?" He was directly staring at it on that shelf. He pointed at it, "may I investigate the walkie-talkie?"
Martin mouthed, what are you doing!? Jon, raised an eyebrow.
"Can I even trust you to deal with that item?"
"We could hand it to an expert to see what they have to say."
"No," Martin intervened, "you said it yourself, if you can't find anything what can they do if you do give it to a professional?" Kyle turns to Martin, "it won't hurt to try."
"I believe we are done here," Jon stood, the two slowly made eye contact with him. He didn't look like he wanted to be a part of this conversation. "I have already decided, as the Archivist, that this case," he slams his hand on the desk ever so slightly, "is closed. Do respect the decision, no more investigations. Thank you."
"We won't get through to him, Ms Sasha could have considered." Kyle murmured into Martin's ear. "Who's we, Kyle? I won't want to mess with the archives!" Martin whispered back. Jon sat back down, feeling like he'd gotten old from the conversation. "Return to your departments, you two."
"Please wait, Sir." Kyle was actively digging his own grave. And then, he blanked out. Martin beside him was about to exit the room without him.
"What is it?" Kyle opened his mouth yet said nothing. Now he was getting irritated.
"I forgot..." Martin looked at the back of Kyle's head like he could burn a hole right through. Because what do you mean you forgot!? "Oh yes wait, I've noticed something behind you."
Kyle pointed at the dusty cabinet, pushing a stack aside to get a better view, "that cabinet, it's oddly crooked. Is it rusted inside?"
"I'm not sure." Jon looked now, craning his neck and adjusting his glasses. "It has been like that since ages. I am not primarily concerned."
"I see." Kyle reached out, Jon automatically made a noise. But Kyle ignored him. "It could fall, if left unchecked. Like in the research department recently."
Martin and him made eye contact and the former was begging him to get away from Jon. "Oh I see." Jon said, "While you are checking, hand me that manila folder near your left hand." The taller of them moved to the right, Jon clicked his tongue, "No." He instinctively toned, "your other left."
Kyle handed the file, almost tripping. Then saying something about going back to the research lobby. After Martin hastily pulled Kyle out of that room, Jon exhaled slow and tired he said, "see to it you will."