October 21st, 2023

1:00 PM EST

Alastar

Everything was in its place, but the immaculate nature of it was ruined by the fact that the entire sorting system was batshit. There were fossils next to some weird iron shards. There was a shrunken head directly next to what looked like a giant knife. And there, in a special place, was a wooden box that was labeled with the item retrieval number 13 labeled in what looked like a scrap of ancient cardstock.

That was it, a box. A sealed box that he couldn't just open. That was part of the research, besides he could laugh if the researcher got dust up his nose. With a heavy sigh he placed the box on his cart and closed the Cabinet. He’d have to put it back later, but he intended to have a good look at the Wyrmwood cabinet at least.

Going up to the top floor was just as easy as before, but it felt different after he’d been in that perfect messy storage room that made him unrealistically happy. There was something about being around all of that old stuff, much of which was junk that no one really wanted, that made him feel alive. Alive in a way that was suppressed by his pill, in a way that made him wonder what it would be like if he was there without being drugged.

The cart with its small burden was dragged to research room 3. It had taken him a while, but the occupant hopefully had waited. If the researcher was already gone, Alastar would really hate them. He knocked on the door and, after not getting an answer, checked to see if it was locked.

Deciding to ignore protocol, Alastar let himself into the room to see what was going on. There was a weedy nerd sitting there, with a bag of chips that were not allowed in the research room, and a weird looking handheld game. “What in the hell is going on?”

“Wah?” The man asked, looking up at Alastar and obviously getting distracted from his game as it made a sad little beeping sound.

“Are you Dexter Blank?” Alastar asked, frowning. “You do realize that food isn’t allowed near materials, right?”

“Uh, yes.” The man said, blinking a little. “To both, I am Dexter and I am aware food isn’t allowed near materials. But see, I don’t have any materials in here so…”

“And you are here without materials because…?”

“Because I’m waiting on some materials that I’m researching.”

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“So what did you think was going to happen when you got those materials?”

“Well obviously I’d put the chips away and…” Dexter stared at the cart for a second. “Oh.”

“Uhuh, take those chips out to the garbage and wash your damn hands.” Alastar tried to be firm, the truth was that both of them were pretty young for academics and he didn’t have much authority on his own. It was kind of awkward to try and talk down to this other person his own age. Still, Dexter complied quickly.

After about thirty minutes, Dexter returned and smiled sheepishly. “Okay, I guess that’s all good?”

“Well, technically yes. But be careful in future, please.” Alastar said, having placed the box in the right spot. “Now, how long will you need this for?”

“Well, I’ll be studying it for my thesis.” Dexter said, rubbing his neck. “So, as long as I can have and then I’ll need to come back.”

“Talk to Janet, she can tell you just how much time you have left.” Alastar said, shrugging.

***

The rest of his day was basically the same. Every hour or so he would pick up the list of materials that were needed by researchers and go to pick it up. For the most part that wasn’t a super strenuous job, most researchers would start out with written materials found in the library before ever coming close to the things down in his domain. Otherwise, it would defeat the purpose of research if one was only looking at physical materials.

However, he was still basically constantly retrieving things because it took so long to take anything out of the long term storage. The simple fact was that physical objects had to be categorized in physical space, a limitation that he knew was a constant of the physical world, and thus he had to move through physical space to acquire them. That always meant digging through mountains of objects to find the right box, bow, or piece of plant fiber.

“Janet is right.” Alastar muttered, staring longingly at the Wyrmwood Cabinet that he’d left pulled out and ready for him to go through as a side project. “Her job is way easier.”

With a heavy sigh he got back to work for the last two hours of the day. From 4:00 PM to 6:00 PM his job was to keep up the work but remind the researchers that they were going to have to leave. Only those with special clearance, which could be obtained by museum higher ups or particular professors associated with the collections, would have to leave at 6:00 and come back the following day to continue research.

“Thank you for your patronage, I hope that you can complete your research next time!” He said in a fakely cheery mood as he took the eclectic collection of West African artifacts away from one of the researchers. He did what he could to ignore just how annoying this particular researcher had been.

“Of course, I’ll be here all month.” The woman said in a soft southern accent. She was a grad student, which meant she didn’t have any fancy titles he had to remember yet. “It was nice to meet you Mister…” She paused. “I don’t believe I ever caught your last name.”

“Oh I’m sorry Ms. Moore,” He said, trying to not allow his exhaustion to get into his voice. “It’s Astrea.” He frowned, really hoping that she wouldn’t take the time to ask him.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Mr. Astrea.” She said, before leaving.

With a sigh Alastar spent the next hour putting everything away in its neat and tidy places. Now there was nothing stopping him from looking at the Wyrmwood Cabinet.