vatheon | Chance favors the prepared mind

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Chance favors the prepared mind

Who: Albert Heinrich and Walter Bishop
Where: Forest quadrant
When: Evening of the 8th
Style: Prose
Status: Closed

Despite his general quietness on the network in wariness of being peered at by the powers that be, Albert does check it quite often. In the case of today, he'd stumbled across Sol's post in regards to science and mentally flagged the post as useful. After all, when you're a cyborg far from your maker, repairs tend to be a little difficult to make should they be necessary. His attention is caught not by the mechanical scientific knowhow but by another topic. It spurs him to send Walter a brief message, an invitation to an evening's walk through the trees. Nothing suspicious at all.

He has certain things on his mind though, in light of recent information that he's gathered. Not information about the bubble, but that about the future of his own timeline, about the fates of his friends, and he suspects - given Walter's line of work - that the aging scientist can help.

Albert waits for Walter to arrive on the edge of the forest quadrant with a lit cigarette in his mouth, hands deep in the pockets of his overcoat, and hopes the man can give him the information he needs.

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Walter has taken quite a bit of time to get adjusted to life on his own - honestly, he's still not adjusted. He often finds himself unable to remember to do basic things - go to the grocery store, bathe himself, use the restroom before it becomes an emergency... he's really quite fed up with being on his own and appreciates Peter in his absence more than ever.

The only things he can ever really manage to focus on are music, food, and science. When he saw Sol's post he actually got quite excited at the prospect of being able to bounce ideas off someone. Perhaps he went on a bit much, but he felt better for it. When Albert calls him up to go on a walk it improves his mood even further. He hates being alone, and a good walk would be nice.

Unfortunately he gets lost along the way and he can't remember Albert's name to call for directions. It starts with an A, he knows it does... just as he's beginning to get frustrated Albert calls again, much to his relief.

"Alphonse! I'm afraid I've become somewhat turned around, here..."

Alphonse is pretty close, right?

Alphonse? Albert mouths the name in amused disbelief before actually speaking up into the SFC and patiently correcting the scientist. "It's Albert, Doctor Bishop. Do you need me to come get you?"

Well, they do say brilliance breeds eccentricity. He has no reason not to believe that Walter's faculties are compromised when it comes to science, not after the conversation he observed between Walter and Sol. He just hopes that eccentricity doesn't get in the way of focus.

Ah yes, Albert. He wasn't so far off! Walter doesn't acknowledge the correction, though he does attempt to file it away for later.

Walter tries to shake off his irritation at the thought of being picked up. It's not his fault that he can't manage to find their meeting location in a timely manner.

"Yes, perhaps that would be for the best." He turns on the video to show where he is. He'd almost made it, he's not even five minutes away.

"Ah, actually if you turn to your right ninety degrees and walk straight ahead for a few minutes you'll be here in no time. I'll come to meet you." He hangs up and starts in that direction, able to see the wayward doctor after only a short time. With a wave, Albert takes a last drag from his cigarette, dropping it to the ground and stamping it out into the pavement. He's learned that in this century smoking has generally gone out of fashion and is even disapproved of in most circles, but Albert's fairly certain if his cybernetic body can handle housing mini missiles with hazardous materials, he has nothing to fear from cigarettes. Besides, they calm him down, and he needs that at the moment.

"Glad you could make it."

"They should really put signs in this place," he grumbles ineffectually. "Not a single street sign! They could even put them up on the bubble above us, it would be easy enough, surely."

Sighing and trying to calm down, he nods to Albert as he straightens his sweater. The lab coat has been left at home, mostly because it makes him pine for his lab and it's really not chilly enough out for him to need it. Walter's gaze flits to Albert's previously damaged shoulder briefly before he focuses on his face, attempting a smile.

"It has been a little while. You look much better."

"I feel it, at least physically. Thank you again for you help." He rolls said shoulder as if to emphasize his thanks and gives a tight smile, turning to walk back towards the forest but setting his pace by Walter's gait.

"Are you doing alright? You seem frustrated." It wouldn't do just to pick the man's brain without any sort of small talk first. That would feel much too much like he's using the poor man.

Walter wouldn't have been offended. People tend to poke and prod him for ideas all the time without bothering to try and appear like they have a genuine interest in him first. Generally he's happy to be involved if he finds the topic interesting.

"Oh, yes, I suppose so. I am admittedly not a fan of our accommodations. Did you know that they don't have Frankenberry cereal at their grocery stores? Preposterous! Nor have I seen a proper record player anywhere. Not that I have my collection here, of course, but the complaint still stands."

It's far easier to complain about trivial things than it is to admit that he's at a loss without his caretakers. Besides - those trivial things really DO bother him, to the extent that he can't focus at times.

Edited 2013-07-09 05:59 (UTC)

"Frankenberry? Can't say I've heard of it." He usually sticks to whatever's on sale back home. Being a living weapon doesn't exactly pay the bills. "The record player I have seen though. One of those odd shops down in the place they call the Nostalgia Nook has an old gramophone."

It was similar to the one his grandfather had avidly collected symphony records for back when the German was small. Albert had held onto it right up until he and Hilda had made their ill-fated bid for freedom through the wall. When he'd finally been able to return to Berlin in 2001, the apartment had long since been cleared out and sold to someone else, but what can you do after roughly forty years of absence. "You need special currency to buy anything down there though."

He quiets for a moment, letting out a breath. True, he finds the conversation honestly interesting, but he still has other things on his mind. "I saw your conversation with Sol on the network. You seem to know quite a bit about time travel."

Edited 2013-07-09 06:20 (UTC)

Ah, so that's what this was about. Not that Walter was adverse to a walk, but he'd already pegged Albert for a soldier. Soldiers don't often call someone out just to chat. He'd wondered if it was a subtle way of attempting to get him to come out to check up on his repairs, but it's apparently something else altogether.

"That and many other subjects I shouldn't have meddled in, yes. The ones running this experiment here have no idea what they're tampering with. They're risking their own reality, as well as that of all the people they pull from their homes."

"I expected it was a dangerous business but I wasn't sure how dangerous." He turns the cigarette carton over in his pocket, thinking of how to phrase his questions without giving too much away. Honestly there's virtually no way to do so. He'll have to be up front with Walter about what he's thinking in order to get accurate information and answers.

"But say you found out the path your timeline was taking and it wasn't... acceptable. Is it possible the change it? Assuming a way back to your original time was found and you retained the knowledge of events."

Walter's face falls. Of all the things he could ask, he had to ask this.

"...it is possible, yes. It is also exceedingly dangerous, both for the time traveler and those whose fates they change," he says slowly, trying to get a measure of what it is Albert wants to change. Surely it must be a death. He doesn't seem the sort of man to want to change time for financial or political gain.

He can't really judge him, though. He's done much the same.

"I expected for the traveler, but not the other part. How so?" There are things worse than death and if there's a possibility of causing any of those things for Jet or Joe, he'll have to find some other way, but he won't give up until he has all the facts.

Logically this is what he tells himself. Emotionally his stomach plummets at the very thought he may be helpless in the face of what's to come, but it won't stop him from asking. It will make him take out the cigarette carton and tap one into his fingers though. "Do you mind if I...?"

Edited 2013-07-10 12:25 (UTC)

"No, go right ahead," he says, trying to think of how to explain. Most of the side effects are theoretical, of course, he can only speak for Peter and how out of place he feels now that his timeline is altered. Of course, that could also have to do with the fact that he lived much of his life in the wrong reality.

"It is a complicated subject, and the side effects will of course vary based on how similar your reality is to mine. If time travel is never properly discovered or controlled in your reality, the only side effect the one whose fate changes would be disorientation and a feeling that they do not quite belong. In my reality, I believe such things may be regulated by a group of people from the distant future."

Walter swallows hard. "If I am correct, they recently tried to do away with my son. He was... not meant to survive."

With a nod, Albert raises the cigarette to his lips and lights it with a match from the same pocket, putting his hand around the end to guard the flame from any breeze out of habit. He shakes the match out and returns his hands to his pockets, taking a long drag as he listens.

"I haven't heard anything about time travel being more than theoretical on the version of Earth I'm from. As for anyone trying to do away with those I'm trying to save, they're cyborgs as well. I have no doubt we'll be able to handle anything of that nature." He takes the cigarette between his fingers and idly watches the smoke curl from the end. "Otherwise it sounds as if out realities are fairly similar. Cybernetics and other super sciences, and of course countries and histories matching up from what I can tell."

The idea that Jet or Joe may feel disoriented or out of place doesn't concern him. None of them really feel in place in the state their in regardless. Cyborgs are not quite human, after all. He places the cigarette back in his mouth after tapping off the ash. "By the sound of things, your son escaped. I'm glad to hear it." His voice goes quiet, with an edge of sympathy. "Family is important."

He seems determined to save his friends, whoever they may be. Walter's first instinct is to refuse and walk away, he couldn't bear it if he was responsible for tearing up yet another reality, and yet... if he does help him, if they can figure out a way to do this safely...

Then he can likely save Peter as well as correct the damage he's done.

It would be using this man, but Albert's using Walter as well. The thought rankles him, but what else is he to do? Leave it up to the Observers to fix things? Other than September they leave a bad taste in his mouth.

"There are other risks as well, risks that I did not know about when I first saved him. Our reality along with the one directly parallel to us is slowly beginning to deteriorate. I have meddled where I should not."

The Observers travel through time safely, though. It was September who helped him save Peter in the first place, after all. He thinks that it's likely their knowledge of the past, present, and future that allows them to travel safely, as well as whatever augmentations they have in their bodies.

"We would need to study your world's past and future extensively to ascertain a safe point at which we could alter events to prevent the deaths of your friends. Simply charging in to take a bullet would cause far too much trouble."

"I'm not certain how much study we can do. I'm from a point earlier than they are and I don't have all the information, but I can tell you what I do know and what exactly I intend to do in order to prevent what happened for my friends. The plan I had in mind actually takes advantage of whatever mechanism they're using here to transport people back and forth. If they've been doing it for years, as I've heard, then it should be as stable as it can be and it will put me right back when I was taken from. The trick is to remember what I've been told about the future."

It's a lot of if and he's not sure how to go back with his memories intact as all other experience points to forgetting. There's also the time travel mechanism being out of their control so he has no idea when - or if - he'll be able to get back and test the theory or put the plan into action. Furthermore, Walter's warnings are not falling on deaf ears. It's entirely possible that if he prevents one thing, he could cause terrible things to happen in an entirely other direction simply through butterfly effect rather than any measurable consequence of his actions.

Not that the unknowns are going to stop him. "I have to prevent an ambush, and similarly destroy a rocket set to destroy a good portion of the Earth before it takes off, as opposed to allowing it to reach above Earth's atmosphere. If I can only manage one of these, it'll obviously be the rocket."

It would be stopped, either way, just... it needs to be stopped before anyone dies trying.

Walter blinks rapidly, struggling with himself. He needs to know these details or he can't make a proper decision! Knowing the future would be for the best, but perhaps if he knows enough of the past he can make an educated guess.

"As much of the past as is possible, then. Your personal history and that of the ones you wish to save may suffice. There are patterns in things, patterns that can be discerned if one looks closely enough. If we can find a point that is more removed from the event you wish to change that we could alter slightly, it is less likely to cause negative effects."

The old scientist begins pacing. "I will need a lab here of course, and access to materials in the Nostalgia Nook that I currently cannot afford. I imagine this will be very uncomfortable for you and your friends, but we simply can't risk harming your reality."

His personal...? He nearly bites down on the cigarette butt at just how unpleasant the idea of sharing that. He spends quite a lot of time trying not to dwell on his past, especially certain events. "I take it these need to be as detailed accounts as possible? I'll do what I can but... yes, it will be uncomfortable. Still, discomfort is a small price to pay, considering."

Jet will kill him for sharing his history, but if it's necessary to save the American's life, he'll run the risk of Jet hating him. Better have him alive and pissed than dead. It's easier to focus on the materials though, for now, than what exactly he's going to have to do to convince the other cyborg. "I'll try and pitch in for the starfish tokens. I can get some sort of job. Manual labor, that kind of thing."

"Yes, they will need to be as detailed as possible. That is why they will need to come directly from your brains. I have done this procedure before back home. I will need to build a new machine to achieve it here, which I will of course test on myself first. I am already damaged, after all," he says with a small quirk of a smile. He doesn't like to talk about what he's missing, but he believes that they have the right to know if they're going to be entrusting something like this to an addled man like him.

At that Albert stops mid-stride, looking at Walter not with surprise or anger but the blankness that comes with attempting to make a great mental leap into again thinking something is a good idea.

Brain scans. Fine. That makes sense. The human mind is a twisted thing and processing memories from long ago into current language can leave out details or be inexact and when that could conceivably get him o the others or their entire timeline into trouble, it makes sense to be as thorough as possible.

It's the comment about being damaged that has Albert staring. He's not certain he wants to know. If it were just him, he would go ahead regardless, but seeing as this will effect his friends in a very large way, he has a responsibility to go in as well informed as possible about the man helping them. "What do you mean damaged?"

Walter looks distinctly uncomfortable as he considers what he should tell Albert. He doesn't want pity, he wants to be able to act as a grown man again. True, he probably does need a caretaker, but...

"When I realized the damage I had caused to our realities, I... had pieces of my brain removed. I am not fully intact. I was afraid of the man that I was becoming - a man who saw only logic. A man who was playing God." He smiles wryly.

"I'm sure you have noticed, there's no need to be shy about it. My brain has adapted, and I am still perfectly capable of doing what needs to be done. It simply takes me longer than it used to. The path is not so clear."

"You purposely lobotomized yourself?" His voice sounds a bit far away and devoid of emotion. He can't imagine purposely and willingly cutting in one's a healthy brain, regardless of the motivation.

"I can see you still have hold of most of your faculties but you'll forgive me if this information makes me a bit wary..."

Edited 2013-07-11 21:26 (UTC)

"That is why I told you, of course. If I am going to be meddling about in your brain you have the right to know."

It is, after all, not exactly his favorite topic. He'd even forgotten that it occurred until somewhat recently. He'd forgotten many things.

There's a very long pause before Albert answers, mulling it over. He finishes his cigarette, crunching it out with his shoe before taking the pack from his pocket and lighting another, shaking out the match and taking a long drag before finally looking Walter in the face again.

In that pregnant pause, he goes through everything that could go wrong, everything he knows about neural science (which isn't much), and any other options he may have to save his friends. What he finally comes up with is that he has no other option.

"Alright, but I want to take every precaution. Due to our cybernetics, we each have a series of connection ports at the back of the neck. You should be able to connect a computer there and view or even record our memories." He takes another puff of his cigarette, blowing the smoke in a small stream between his teeth. "Fair warning though, if you do decide to record them, they need to be kept locked down and destroyed when they're no longer of use. I won't have our private lives aired out to anyone unnecessarily."

"Really? That makes things a great deal simpler," he says, finally lightening up again. As much as he does enjoy a little neurosurgery, he doesn't have his lab or anyone to tell him when he's gone too far here, and he's really not comfortable with the idea of cutting into people's brains in a new environment.

Walter nods vigorously at the second part. "Yes, of course. My recall can be a little faulty at times so I will need to record them, but I will not keep the records once we have either succeeded or given up on an approach that would require them. I will also need to make alterations to the one that will be making any changes, and those will need to be removed as well. It is far too tempting to change more than is necessary if one knows they have the power to do so."

"I'm alright with that. I wouldn't want to keep any modifications you make anyway, no offense." That's true, at least, for the same reason that being alright with it is an outright lie. The last thing Albert has ever wanted is to be further turned into a machine. If it was anything else but the death of his friends, he may not even be considering this at all. He's not so much a hero as simply a desperate man, but those sometimes go hand in hand.

He takes another deep inhale of nicotine, to all observation still calm as he was when they began their talk but internally his mind is racing with everything that could go wrong, with the rebellion of his personal convictions against further modification, with an ache at the thought that he might not succeed, that Joe and Jet can't be saved, with thoughts of how he must be insane even to entertain the idea of allowing a lobotomized scientist go at him with a scalpel.

But desperation colors all things as hope.

"How long do you need to prepare and what things do you need for your lab? We can work on gathering everything while I take the time to convince the others." It will likely need a lot of convincing on Jet's part.

"I am not sure, to be honest. I don't know what materials are available here, what sort of power sources we can use - there are many factors that need to be taken into consideration," he murmurs, beginning to pace back and forth and tap his fingers together while he tries to straighten his thoughts.

"It should only take me a day to come up with a list of supplies. We can peruse the city after that and see what all we have to work with and what will need to be... improvised."

He shouldn't be excited about the idea of improvising, he really shouldn't. He just can't help it, though!

Albert's not nearly as thrilled about the idea of jerry-rigging something that needs to be so exact but he's slowly coming to learn that with Walter, it may be best if he's allowed to be excited over things that make other men cringe.

"I know enough to be useful, and I know at least one other person with technical know-how who should be able to recommend where to get materials, at least. The specialty shops are likely the best bet though so I'll see about getting work for those starfish token things," he runs through that all with an air of distraction, wondering instead how he'll convince Jet into sharing his memories with a veritable stranger. It had been like pulling teeth getting Jet to share anything personal even with Albert; he's not going to take too kindly to Walter, that's for certain. He'll have to butter him up first, offer up a compromise, maybe even have to beat into him just how important this is, a fact which he should already know since its his life on the line but something tells Albert it still won't be that simple.

"An excellent idea. Perhaps I will take up a little work myself. I saw a lovely bakery, though the owner was a bit strange. Thought he was a country," Walter says with a chuckle. He's not one to judge, being more than a little off kilter himself.

Now that they have somewhat of a plan Walter straightens his sweater, glancing back toward the main bubble again. "I will send you that list over our communicators, Alex. Do have a good evening."

Truly, nothing inspires faith like working with a brain damaged man who can't get people's names right.

"I met him too. He is a bit strange, but not really harmful I don't think." Sort of like Walter himself, only all Italy would harm would be a cake while Walter could very well put Albert into a coma or worse.

Still, it's not like he has a choice, and despite the scattered way Walter has, he does seem to know what he's talking about at the core.

"I'll keep an eye out for it. ...And it's Albert."

He must be a little insane himself.

Walter nods as he begins shuffling off, repeating Albert's name correctly. He can make connections, it just takes him awhile sometimes! Everything is there, it's just muddled.

It's a good thing he's willing to experiment on himself before others.

Edited 2013-07-21 02:27 (UTC)

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Chance favors the prepared mind

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