Part 219: The Human Ideal
John, Jack, Kate and Marita spend the next thirty minutes watching a handful of soldiers erect a row of posts in the ground. The giants would hold them in place while they secured them. Frakes kept looking back at them the whole time they were doing it. “That can’t be good.” Jack pointed.
“What the hell are those posts going to be used for?” Kate mentioned.
“Twelve posts . . .twelve of us,” John pointed out.
“What does that mean?” Hurley heard them, “You think they are going to tie us to those posts?”
“I don’t think the number is coincidence, big man,” Ana-Lucia crossed her arms.
“Why would they do that?” the large man said.
“Human Fence.” Locke whispered.
The group turned to the bald man who was sitting by himself in the corner. Tony raised his head to listen, while Marita held onto his arm. Locke leaned forward, cupping his fingers together as he looked at him. “It’s been a scare tactic used in military incursions.” He whispered.
“Well, in case you hadn’t noticed, dude, I am plenty scared.” Hurley coughed.
“It’s not for us, Hugo. It’s for the people coming to rescue us. They see us out there, tied up, they will think twice about coming into get us out.”
“How do you know your friend are coming?” asked Clay.
Locke smiled his warm smile; the smile that always told his friends everything would be okay. “They wouldn’t be putting up those posts if they weren’t coming.” He sighed.
“So Sayid is attempting a rescue?” Jack smiled, “I just knew he would.”
“How do we know if it’s Sayid?” John pointed out, “Maybe it’s McKay?”
“What makes you think that McKay would make up a plan to come get us and Sayid wouldn’t?” the doctor countered.
“God help us, it’s probably Charlie coming to get us.” Hurley sat down in despair.
“Everybody calm down,” Tony said, “We can’t buckle now. If they are coming, it doesn’t matter who came up with the plan. More than likely, it’s both of them. We have to hold on. That’s all we can do.”
“I . . am scared too.” Andra whispered.
The group then stopped talking and turned to her. The young French girl was rocking back and forth, holding her arms. Ana-Lucia looked massively confused, considering she thought the girl only spoke French. Judging by the faces of the people in the bunker, they assumed the same thing. Locke still had a smile on his face; almost as if he was expecting it. “You speak English, Andra?” he asked her.
“Always . . .could,” She sniffed, “Papa taught me . . .being with Alexander . . .and brothers and sisters . . . .I had forgotten. Being around . .you . .I remember.”
Locke chuckled, then looked to his friend. “You see?” he smiled, “Miracles can still happen here.”
-----------------------------------------------------------,
Mia rested against the wall in the computer room. She looked out the crack in the door leading outside, noticing the light was still bright. It must be mid-afternoon by then. She wasn’t sure cause she didn’t bother much with time anymore but she was worried about John and then others. She was worried that if she didn’t come back after a while, he might assume worse and try to come get her. Possibly even get himself killed in the process.
She leaned over to her side, and picked up the Coke they let her half, along with the sandwich and chips. She managed to eat most of it, despite feeling guilty over her friends stuck with fruit and food scraps. The Lakota girl sipped on the coke, looking at the skeleton named Jones sitting across the room from her. She toasted him with the coke and sipped it again. “You are probably better off than us, Mr. Jones.” She shrugged.
Then the door opened, slightly startling Mia. It was the old blind woman, named Cassandra. She walked in and closed the door. The young Lakota girl stood up, placing the coke down. The old crone walked forward with her cane. She turned directly toward Mia, despite the fact that her eyes were gone. “I know what you are up to.” She hissed.
“Excuse me?” she asked.
“If you think that you’ll replace me by the Colonel’s side, you’re sadly mistaken.” She continued to approach her.
“Look, lady, I don’t know what you’ve been smoking but I am not taking anybody’s place!” Mia stepped back, “I am going to get the Colonel access to the main computer and then he’ll let me and my friends go.”
“A very cleaver ruse.” Cassandra stopped at the consol,” I know for a fact that if you get him access to the main computer, he’ll kill me and place you by his side. He’ll let your friends go, but he’ll keep you.”
“You’re crazy.”
Cassandra then pulled out a knife from her gown. It was a rusty knife with brown stains, similar to blood. “I saw the Island with my mind’s eye, little girl,” she croaked, “And I had to stab my own eyes out to stop the pain.”
“You . ..WHAT???” Mia felt like hurling.
“The Colonel and I only know the truth here. You mustn’t look with your eyes, you must look with your minds eye. Do you want me to cut yours out, little girl?”
“COME NEAR ME . . ..and I’ll scream,” Mia pointed, “I got a feeling Colonel Fender might not like it you interrupting me from getting him the access to the computer.”
Cassandra stopped, tilting her head. She slowly backed away. She turned putting the knife back into her gown, in some kind of sheath. “The Colonel will not keep you safe for long,” she muttered, “This is not finished between us.”
The crone then opened the door and walked out; locking it behind her. Mia finally took a deep breath, forcing her heart to stop beating. She braced her head on her hands, as she leaned down on the door. She thought of the wonderful month she was having. She managed to find a nice guy that could love her, she communicates with her dead grandmother, she’s been captured by a psycho colonel who wants her to access a 50 year old computer and then just got threatened by an insane blind woman. “I wonder if granny ever went through days like this.” She muttered.
Mia took a deep breath and then walked over to the computer console, sitting down on the dusty chair. She stared at the computer screen that read the same thing it had all morning.
GOOD MORNING
PLEASE ENTER ACCESS CODE
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
“It’s not morning, anymore you stupid computer,” she commented.
The screen then flickered and the words disappeared. The screen then came up with new words typed into the screen.
GOOD AFTERNOON
PLEASE ENTER ACCESS CODE
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
“WHOA!” Mia abruptly scooted back from the console.
The screen changed, from what it seemed by voice command. Mia didn’t know much about computers but she did know they weren’t that sophisticated in the 1950’s. She slowly scooted back, wondering how it could have changed. She looked back to Jones, who of course, said nothing. She played with her hair, staring at the eight digits. Eight digits. She reached into her jean jacket, picking up the pad. She looked at the numbers but they went well beyond eight digits.
She started to think what the colonel had told her. The password that got them access was Sherman, the man he said trained him in the Liberation. “Why . ..why would it be someone he knew, yet this computer was foreign to him?” she said aloud.
Mia then remembered how the screen changed to voice recognition. What if it wasn’t voice recognition? Fender said there was something deep underground that augmented people with psychic abilities. What if the access code was from the person closest the computer? Mia then started to right down in her pad, everybody she knew. She grunted as she realized none of the people she knew had 8 digit names.
Then it occurred to her. What if Sherman wasn’t someone the Colonel knew but one he was just associated with? Mia started to write down all the other names of the other survivor group. None of them fit any 8 digits names either. Mia then slammed her hand on the console in frustration, making two rotten pencils leap up and down. She calmed down and laughed, seeing how she created her own impact tremor. Then that phrase reminded her of something else. What if it was an association with her and the Island? She began to write down the name she was thinking of and counted it out; it equaled 8 digits. “No way,” she whispered.
Mia realized, she had nothing to lose and it was the first eight digit thing she could think of. She slowly began to type it in. “P-O-L-L-I-W-O-G.” she whispered.
Mia pressed execute and then the words disappeared on the screen again. She was waiting for it to say some form of rejection but nothing happened. Then within seconds the monitor read something knew.
IDENTIFY USER>
Mia shrugged her shoulders and typed in MIA.
GOOD AFTERNOON, MIA
I AM WATCHMAN
Mia then clasped her hands over her mouth to keep from screaming over the fact she got access to the computer.
“What the hell are those posts going to be used for?” Kate mentioned.
“Twelve posts . . .twelve of us,” John pointed out.
“What does that mean?” Hurley heard them, “You think they are going to tie us to those posts?”
“I don’t think the number is coincidence, big man,” Ana-Lucia crossed her arms.
“Why would they do that?” the large man said.
“Human Fence.” Locke whispered.
The group turned to the bald man who was sitting by himself in the corner. Tony raised his head to listen, while Marita held onto his arm. Locke leaned forward, cupping his fingers together as he looked at him. “It’s been a scare tactic used in military incursions.” He whispered.
“Well, in case you hadn’t noticed, dude, I am plenty scared.” Hurley coughed.
“It’s not for us, Hugo. It’s for the people coming to rescue us. They see us out there, tied up, they will think twice about coming into get us out.”
“How do you know your friend are coming?” asked Clay.
Locke smiled his warm smile; the smile that always told his friends everything would be okay. “They wouldn’t be putting up those posts if they weren’t coming.” He sighed.
“So Sayid is attempting a rescue?” Jack smiled, “I just knew he would.”
“How do we know if it’s Sayid?” John pointed out, “Maybe it’s McKay?”
“What makes you think that McKay would make up a plan to come get us and Sayid wouldn’t?” the doctor countered.
“God help us, it’s probably Charlie coming to get us.” Hurley sat down in despair.
“Everybody calm down,” Tony said, “We can’t buckle now. If they are coming, it doesn’t matter who came up with the plan. More than likely, it’s both of them. We have to hold on. That’s all we can do.”
“I . . am scared too.” Andra whispered.
The group then stopped talking and turned to her. The young French girl was rocking back and forth, holding her arms. Ana-Lucia looked massively confused, considering she thought the girl only spoke French. Judging by the faces of the people in the bunker, they assumed the same thing. Locke still had a smile on his face; almost as if he was expecting it. “You speak English, Andra?” he asked her.
“Always . . .could,” She sniffed, “Papa taught me . . .being with Alexander . . .and brothers and sisters . . . .I had forgotten. Being around . .you . .I remember.”
Locke chuckled, then looked to his friend. “You see?” he smiled, “Miracles can still happen here.”
-----------------------------------------------------------,
Mia rested against the wall in the computer room. She looked out the crack in the door leading outside, noticing the light was still bright. It must be mid-afternoon by then. She wasn’t sure cause she didn’t bother much with time anymore but she was worried about John and then others. She was worried that if she didn’t come back after a while, he might assume worse and try to come get her. Possibly even get himself killed in the process.
She leaned over to her side, and picked up the Coke they let her half, along with the sandwich and chips. She managed to eat most of it, despite feeling guilty over her friends stuck with fruit and food scraps. The Lakota girl sipped on the coke, looking at the skeleton named Jones sitting across the room from her. She toasted him with the coke and sipped it again. “You are probably better off than us, Mr. Jones.” She shrugged.
Then the door opened, slightly startling Mia. It was the old blind woman, named Cassandra. She walked in and closed the door. The young Lakota girl stood up, placing the coke down. The old crone walked forward with her cane. She turned directly toward Mia, despite the fact that her eyes were gone. “I know what you are up to.” She hissed.
“Excuse me?” she asked.
“If you think that you’ll replace me by the Colonel’s side, you’re sadly mistaken.” She continued to approach her.
“Look, lady, I don’t know what you’ve been smoking but I am not taking anybody’s place!” Mia stepped back, “I am going to get the Colonel access to the main computer and then he’ll let me and my friends go.”
“A very cleaver ruse.” Cassandra stopped at the consol,” I know for a fact that if you get him access to the main computer, he’ll kill me and place you by his side. He’ll let your friends go, but he’ll keep you.”
“You’re crazy.”
Cassandra then pulled out a knife from her gown. It was a rusty knife with brown stains, similar to blood. “I saw the Island with my mind’s eye, little girl,” she croaked, “And I had to stab my own eyes out to stop the pain.”
“You . ..WHAT???” Mia felt like hurling.
“The Colonel and I only know the truth here. You mustn’t look with your eyes, you must look with your minds eye. Do you want me to cut yours out, little girl?”
“COME NEAR ME . . ..and I’ll scream,” Mia pointed, “I got a feeling Colonel Fender might not like it you interrupting me from getting him the access to the computer.”
Cassandra stopped, tilting her head. She slowly backed away. She turned putting the knife back into her gown, in some kind of sheath. “The Colonel will not keep you safe for long,” she muttered, “This is not finished between us.”
The crone then opened the door and walked out; locking it behind her. Mia finally took a deep breath, forcing her heart to stop beating. She braced her head on her hands, as she leaned down on the door. She thought of the wonderful month she was having. She managed to find a nice guy that could love her, she communicates with her dead grandmother, she’s been captured by a psycho colonel who wants her to access a 50 year old computer and then just got threatened by an insane blind woman. “I wonder if granny ever went through days like this.” She muttered.
Mia took a deep breath and then walked over to the computer console, sitting down on the dusty chair. She stared at the computer screen that read the same thing it had all morning.
GOOD MORNING
PLEASE ENTER ACCESS CODE
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
“It’s not morning, anymore you stupid computer,” she commented.
The screen then flickered and the words disappeared. The screen then came up with new words typed into the screen.
GOOD AFTERNOON
PLEASE ENTER ACCESS CODE
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
“WHOA!” Mia abruptly scooted back from the console.
The screen changed, from what it seemed by voice command. Mia didn’t know much about computers but she did know they weren’t that sophisticated in the 1950’s. She slowly scooted back, wondering how it could have changed. She looked back to Jones, who of course, said nothing. She played with her hair, staring at the eight digits. Eight digits. She reached into her jean jacket, picking up the pad. She looked at the numbers but they went well beyond eight digits.
She started to think what the colonel had told her. The password that got them access was Sherman, the man he said trained him in the Liberation. “Why . ..why would it be someone he knew, yet this computer was foreign to him?” she said aloud.
Mia then remembered how the screen changed to voice recognition. What if it wasn’t voice recognition? Fender said there was something deep underground that augmented people with psychic abilities. What if the access code was from the person closest the computer? Mia then started to right down in her pad, everybody she knew. She grunted as she realized none of the people she knew had 8 digit names.
Then it occurred to her. What if Sherman wasn’t someone the Colonel knew but one he was just associated with? Mia started to write down all the other names of the other survivor group. None of them fit any 8 digits names either. Mia then slammed her hand on the console in frustration, making two rotten pencils leap up and down. She calmed down and laughed, seeing how she created her own impact tremor. Then that phrase reminded her of something else. What if it was an association with her and the Island? She began to write down the name she was thinking of and counted it out; it equaled 8 digits. “No way,” she whispered.
Mia realized, she had nothing to lose and it was the first eight digit thing she could think of. She slowly began to type it in. “P-O-L-L-I-W-O-G.” she whispered.
Mia pressed execute and then the words disappeared on the screen again. She was waiting for it to say some form of rejection but nothing happened. Then within seconds the monitor read something knew.
IDENTIFY USER>
Mia shrugged her shoulders and typed in MIA.
GOOD AFTERNOON, MIA
I AM WATCHMAN
Mia then clasped her hands over her mouth to keep from screaming over the fact she got access to the computer.
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