As Dean sat in the ‘waiting room’, more of a glorified prison cell than anything else, he drank the tea he was provided with a glare of dull disappointment. The searing burn of the acid they had tried to slip him had less flavor than he was used to. They couldn’t even bring out the good stuff for him. So shameful. Then again, when they started pumping air into the room meant to numb his nerves as he was dissolved from the inside, they probably thought the matter was resolved. He wondered if they would run the whole gambit or if they would tire of their pointless attempts to kill him at some point. As yet another Falos Knight in full hazard integration to protect what little organic matter they had left brought him a plate of pastries, he sniffed through the air and sensed the faintest hint of nitroglycerin. Tiring of this stupid game, he took the cookies and threw one at the door to his ‘waiting room’ stating firmly for the camera, “I’ll be up to see you in a few moments so we can cease these childish games.” He began his blind and lost march through the facility when a few attendants tried to stop him.
He was about the shoulder past them when the Vizier he was supposed to meet with arrived, four mannequins surrounding him. The Vizier glared coldly at the officer and snapped his fingers, “What are you truly here for? Out with it, petty officer.”
Dean corrected, “Detective. Special Detective Paddock. And I’m just here to get eyes on the governor and make sure he is in good health. The rest of this isn’t worth my mind.”
“Or your career, ensign.” Dean was realizing this politician didn’t care who he was but hated he was here. “The governor is fine. You have my word. No please go.”
Dean laughed harmlessly, “Would if I could, doc, but I have to get it from him. So many governors go quiet in your government and we don’t want anyone to put the emperor or our arrangement at risk. So the emperor himself has given us orders that if someone goes quiet we need to put eyes on them.”
“Vizier…” the politician hissed at him.
“Nonetheless, champ. I need to see him, cause if I don’t get eyes on him, the captain’s gonna be up my ass about it and send a whole platoon down to scour the planet. And that’s just more paperwork than anyone needs.” Dean knew these sorts. They knew their place. More paperwork meant more investigations. More investigations and double checks meant more scrutiny which could only uncover something illegal on the books they want quiet. How many bodies before it was too many to hide? Did he have enough money to bribe the whole platoon? If any word, true or false, got back to Visto III he could risk an execution order on a whim from the mad emperor. Dean could see these thoughts dancing across his mind but also a certainty that Dean could not be allowed to get his way.
The politician asked very sharply, “What is your price? What will it take to make you leave here?”
Dean smiled his usual soft smile, his tone becoming roundabout, “You know, the problem for me when it comes to Zayan poisons is that they always focus so much on getting the job done that they don’t think much about the flavor. The aroma. Scentless. Bland and tasteless.” The Vizier became visibly nervous, “I’m sure that if the Emperor knew of you making any kind of merchant deal with them while he is running a blockade on their systems, he would probably have fun using it to torment you with potential execution.” Seeing the politician grow even more nervous, he stated firmly, “I want to see the governor and I want to have a conversation with him. You have my word that, like your assassination attempts, my conversation with him will be left off the record of my final report.”
The Vizier shifted from fear to outrage but Dean could tell it was all impotent. He had tried all of his best tricks and Dean was still here. He had no cards left to play without stirring up a war and they both knew it. Relenting, the Vizier motioned his mannequins to guide Dean to where his quarry lay. Nervous at the killbots surrounding him, he began to follow their directions. The Vizier sneered, “You and that lout are made for each other. Each of you are tactless brutes.”
The machines took Dean on a series of turns through the maze-like facility. Eventually they reached the chamber at the heart of it. When they entered the first thing he saw was the Meteor that the emperor had taken, shining through a massive observation window designed to give the scientists a full view of the specimen. The next thing he noticed was the flying creatures, roughly the size of a human, glaring at or actively testing the integrity of the observation window, clearly not afraid of what should happen if they got in. It was only as his eyes drifted to the flashing panels that he saw them.
One was a man with a focused demeanor, charcoal hair and scarlet eyes. His bearing was very familiar, as was the look of restrained frustration on his face. His companion was also familiar but it wasn’t until he heard the next sentence that he put their identity together. “I don’t understand the difference. You say living gemstone and I say I turn living people into gemstones. This isn’t hard science.”
Dean’s target spoke firmly, “Yes, it is. This is a hard Pseudo Science and I need you to take it seriously.”
“See! You said Pseudo Science!”
“I say that because it is a different kind of science than you are thinking of so it is a little like science but not quite.”
“Funny, so is my gun that turns people into gemstone.”
“No! That’s Mad Science and as much as I respect your degree it is like hiring a heart surgeon to repair a warship.”
“You know some races use organic components too-“ Dean punched the man in the back of the head hard enough to knock him out. They had too much to discuss and he didn’t have the time for Professor Treasure.
Dean gave the agreed upon reply to the message they had planned so long ago. “They must burn brighter even so.”
His target wrapped it up, “Even as the sun hangs low. How have you been, Dean?” When Dean narrowed his eyes, the man seemed confused. Realizing, he smiled and shook his head, “Sorry for that. Probably doesn’t help. Just been through a lot.”
Dean sized him up and sighed, “I’m going to assume that you have a reason you haven’t told anyone. Still, weird of you to be working for the Falos.”
He nodded, “Yeah, and I need you to keep quiet about it for a bit longer. But I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been trying to figure out the best way to handle this situation. I tried to be clever by making it a regular high output engine but the Emperor spotted it right away so he moved it here and put me on total communications lock down. Worse yet, he had told every member of the staff that if I leave for any reason they have his permission to take over with my data. Which he and I both know will just cause a meltdown.”
Dean sighed, “Which at this scale would either wipe out the system entirely or lead to the first ever Dark Stellar System.”
He sighed, “If I’m here when a meltdown happens I can contain it. It would still put a crater on this planet that would throw the whole ecosystem out of whack, and probably most of the town they’ve plopped me in the middle of.” He ground his teeth and growled, “If it runs crazy, he is going to use it to try and turn public support against Zora. But…” he seemed deep in thought before he confided in Dean, “I put a manual safety on this prototype. If activated it will prevent a cascade and minimize the damage. I was gambling on my durability, but if you are here I could use you to set it off in a worst case scenario.”
Dean laughed a little and whispered in case there were microphones, “You are absolutely the same maniac as ever. A literal switch on the casing? Do you really think they won’t notice that when replicating your design?”
He smirked, “Same as the fighters. Redesign it so it not only looks integral but also won’t work without it without any clear work around. I even made it look like a firing mechanism.”
Dean shook his head as the smile started to fade. “Wait… but… how long have you been using this identity?”
He sighed, “I’ve been using this moniker and name the entire time. The last twenty years. I didn’t have a choice, but it has been working to my advantage.”
Dean spoke coldly, “We all have a choice. If what you say is true, then everything you have done was only your choice.” The lab grew quiet as the two men reflected on the truth to the words.
