Log #1441
Sleep and I haven’t been friends lately. Neither have Joel and I. The former just can’t seem to find me, while the latter won’t leave me alone. He keeps trying to poke his nose into the work Wendel and I have been doing. He was in management or something, and that would be obvious even if he didn’t bring it up every day.
The deeper I dig into this hard drive the more complicated the Ruby-Turq NSA situation becomes. I thought to map things out with string and pictures on the wall, but it’s spiralled beyond that. Plus Joel says that we haven’t got any spare string, even though we have plenty of it and little to use it on.
Buzzer is ruffling more and more feathers, too. This morning – three a.m. – I went for some water in the supply room. We crossed paths as I neared the room, and once we had he turned around and followed me, into the supply room and over to the stacks of bottled water.
There was no open one, so I took a new one and cracked it open, with Buzzer just stood there, next to me. Beady eyes burning into the side of my head. Then he asked “how is it?” with a bit of a snarl. After I told him it was fine, he pressed straight into asking why I was awake, what I was doing with Wendel and the computers and – this one raised my eyebrows – why I was such a wimp. Except, he didn’t say ‘wimp’.
He seemed to realise I was hurt by the implication, because he retracted it with a laugh almost immediately–said he was pulling my leg and I shouldn’t take it to heart. But he does a lot of probing like that, with everyone in the group, and I’m not sure there’s a single one of us who hasn’t got his card marked now.
Much as I want to stick to my principles, I fear it’s only a matter of time before we show him the door. Or worse.
Fran is here now, and I fear the ‘discussion’ about me getting sleep is about to rear its ugly head. I’ll ready a full debrief of the RaV necklace, and what the NSA and FEMA planned to do with it. For now I’m still pushing the last pieces of the puzzle together.
Next log shortly.
– Titouan Denaux