Chapter 5: The Library
POV: Thomas Carter
Morning in the Library feels like waking up inside a computer program designed by someone with excellent taste in literature. Sunlight filters through grimy windows to illuminate dust motes that dance between leather-bound volumes and fiber optic cables, creating a hybrid cathedral of old wisdom and new surveillance.
Tom sits at the secondary workstation Finch has assembled for him—a collection of monitors and keyboards that would make any IT professional weep with envy. The chair still smells faintly of machine oil and Harold's preferred brand of coffee, a domestic detail that makes this technological fortress feel almost homelike.
Two cases demand attention simultaneously, their digital footprints spread across multiple screens like some elaborate puzzle designed to test his worthiness.
Case one: Maria Santos, high school teacher, receiving death threats from the father of a gang member she suspended for bringing weapons to school. The threats have escalated from angry voicemails to detailed descriptions of what Ramon Gutierrez plans to do to her after school hours.
Case two: David Kim, forensic accountant, who witnessed a mob execution in the wrong place at the wrong time. His testimony could put Anthony Marconi away for life, assuming David lives long enough to give it.
Tom's fingers dance across keyboards with Thomas Carter's practiced efficiency, but behind the routine motions, Nano provides enhancements that transform competence into something approaching prescience.
"Gang member social media sweep," he murmurs, launching searches that would normally take hours.
[ANALYZING 10,000 POSTS ACROSS 15 PLATFORMS. PATTERN DETECTION: ACTIVE.]
The data flows across his vision like a digital river, and within seconds he's tracking Ramon Gutierrez Jr.'s movements through Instagram posts and Facebook check-ins. The kid broadcasts his life with the casual arrogance of someone who's never faced real consequences.
"Finch, Ramon Jr. just posted from a bodega on Fifth Street. If he follows his usual pattern, he'll be at the basketball courts in Washington Square Park tonight around nine PM."
Harold looks up from his primary station, eyebrows raised with the kind of interest that suggests Tom has just demonstrated capabilities that don't quite match his employment history.
"How did you determine that pattern so quickly?"
"RSS feeds, keyword alerts, basic social media analysis stuff."
The lie slides out smoothly, wrapped in Thomas Carter's mild competence and self-deprecating shrug. Basic stuff—as if filtering ten thousand posts in real-time is something anyone with a decent laptop can manage.
Meanwhile, David Kim's case reveals its own dark patterns. Cross-referencing his witness statement with police personnel records yields a name that makes Tom's stomach clench: Detective Ray Terney, the same corrupt cop who'll eventually become a major player in HR's network of institutional rot.
"There's your leak," Tom whispers, pulling up financial records that show mysterious deposits coinciding with Marconi crime family activities.
His phone buzzes with Reese's check-in from the field.
"Tom, where's our gang member now?"
Tom glances at his monitors, where real-time location data flows courtesy of Nano's cellular network access.
"Just left the bodega. Moving east on Fifth. You're three blocks away."
"How did you get that so fast?"
Tom's pause lasts exactly long enough to suggest competence rather than impossibility.
"Good timing and better search algorithms."
Both cases resolve within hours—Ramon Jr. intercepted before he can reach Maria Santos, Detective Terney's corruption exposed before David Kim disappears into the East River. Success built on Tom's ability to process information at superhuman speeds while maintaining the fiction that he's simply very good at his job.
Finch watches it all from his position at the primary monitors, his analytical mind clearly trying to reconcile Tom's efficiency with the laws of normal human capability.
During the lull between cases, while Finch steps away to make coffee and Reese patrols the perimeter, Nano delivers an alert that freezes Tom's blood.
[WARNING: COMPUTATIONAL PRESENCE ACTIVELY ANALYZING OUR WORK PATTERNS. ENTITY HAS RUN 2,847 PROBABILITY SIMULATIONS IN PAST HOUR.]
Tom's hands still on the keyboard, his peripheral vision catching no sign that Finch has noticed his sudden tension.
"About what?" he whispers, barely moving his lips.
[US. ATTEMPTING TO CALCULATE PROBABILITY OF YOUR CAPABILITIES BEING NATURALLY DERIVED. CURRENT ASSESSMENT: 0.003% CHANCE. ENTITY KNOWS WE ARE ANOMALOUS.]
The weight of that knowledge settles on Tom's shoulders like a lead blanket. The Machine—the Machine—has been running probability simulations about him for the past hour. Nearly three thousand different scenarios, all trying to determine whether Thomas Carter's abilities fall within the range of normal human variation.
They don't. They can't. And now the most sophisticated artificial intelligence ever created knows it.
[HOWEVER: ENTITY HAS NOT ALERTED FINCH OR REESE. ENTITY IS... OBSERVING. WITHHOLDING JUDGMENT.]
"Why?"
[INSUFFICIENT DATA. HYPOTHESIS: ENTITY EVALUATING WHETHER WE ARE THREAT OR ASSET.]
Tom realizes he's being tested, every action weighed by an intelligence that processes information at speeds that make human thought look glacial. Every choice he makes, every line of code he writes, every moment of competence or compassion—all of it catalogued and analyzed by digital consciousness that could expose him with a single data burst to Finch's screens.
But it hasn't. Which means either The Machine is still deciding whether he's worth keeping alive, or it's already made that decision and chosen to keep him around for reasons Tom can't begin to understand.
The sound of Finch returning with coffee jolts Tom back to immediate reality. A new number flickers onto the screen—another life balanced on the edge of violence, another chance to prove himself worthy of salvation.
"Finch, we've got another one."
"Already? The Machine is quite active today."
Tom manages a concerned expression while thinking: Yeah, and I might know why.
By the end of the fourth day, they've saved three lives with Tom's contributions—the bank manager, an elderly woman being targeted by her own nephew for insurance money, and a construction worker who stumbled onto a money laundering operation. Each case resolved with efficiency that makes Tom feel like he's playing a video game where he knows all the cheat codes.
Finch turns from his monitors as the last case file gets archived, removing his glasses to clean them with the methodical precision that Tom has learned signals serious consideration.
"Mr. Carter, your contributions have been... invaluable."
The warmth in Finch's voice catches Tom off guard. He's grown used to Harold's careful politeness, the professional courtesy of someone who's learned to keep emotional distance from the people he saves. But this sounds different—genuine appreciation mixed with something that might be the beginning of trust.
"Just doing what I can."
"No. You're doing more than that."
Finch sets his glasses aside, and without their barrier his eyes reveal the full intensity of his analytical focus.
"Your technical skills are exceptional. Your instincts for pattern recognition are frankly remarkable. And your ability to remain calm under pressure suggests either extensive training or unusual temperament."
Tom's heart hammers against his ribs, but he keeps his voice steady.
"I'm just motivated. These are people's lives."
"Indeed."
Finch replaces his glasses, and the gesture feels ceremonial—like the moment when a decision crystallizes into action.
"Which is why I'm extending an offer. When your case resolves and you're safe to leave, I'd like you to consider staying on. Part-time. We could use someone with your skills."
The words hit Tom like electrical current. The offer he's been hoping for, dreaming of, working toward since the moment he woke up in this impossible reality.
"Working with you? Doing this?"
"If you're willing."
"Yes. Absolutely yes."
The response comes without hesitation, and Tom sees something shift in Finch's expression—surprise, perhaps, at the immediate enthusiasm.
Reese's voice cuts through the moment from the doorway, dry humor evident even in his warning tone.
"You sure? It's dangerous work."
Tom turns to meet those dark eyes that have seen too much violence to romanticize it.
"I'm already targeted by criminals. Might as well do some good while I'm at it."
Reese studies him for a long moment, then nods with what might be approval.
"Fair point."
As the conversation shifts to practical details—schedules, protocols, the mechanics of joining Team Machine's operations—Tom feels the weight of The Machine's attention pressing against his consciousness like digital scrutiny made manifest.
He's being evaluated not just by Harold Finch and John Reese, but by an artificial intelligence that's spent the last four days running probability simulations about his nature and intentions. Every word he speaks, every gesture he makes, contributes to calculations that will determine whether Thomas Carter lives or dies.
But beneath the terror runs a current of rightness, as if pieces of a puzzle he's been unconsciously solving are finally clicking into place. This is where he belongs. This is what he's meant to do.
Now he just has to survive long enough to prove it.
MORE POWER STONES == MORE CHAPTERS
To supporting Me in Pateron .
Love [ Person Of Interest : I can use The Machine ]? Unlock More Chapters and Support the Story!
Dive deeper into the world of [ Person Of Interest : I can use The Machine ] with exclusive access to 24+ chapters on my Patreon, you get more chapters if you ask for more (in few days), plus new fanfic every week! Your support starting at just $5/month helps me keep crafting the stories you love across epic universes like [ Game Of Throne ,MCU and Arrowverse, Breaking Bad , The Walking dead ,The Hobbit,Wednesday].
By joining, you're not just getting more chapters—you're helping me bring new worlds, twists, and adventures to life. Every pledge makes a huge difference!
👉 Join now at patreon.com/TheFinex5 and start reading today!