(AN: Sorry for the long wait; work swamped me completely at last, and then my computer ate a previous version of this chapter. Them's the breaks.)
Chapter 10: Video Technology For Better Living
Chichi sat in her cage in a funk. Lousy as the porridge had been, she found herself eyeing her empty bowl mournfully. Whatever it had been, at least it had been breakfast. But they could have had the decency to give her some pickles. Or at least toast.
General Goon had his thumb on a remote controller, zipping through several days' worth of surveillance camera footage of her own house. The camera used some sort of fisheye lens which distorted everything, making the view nearly unrecognizable; in a corner, the red numerals that showed the date whizzed by, and day and night followed one another monotonously. It occured to Chichi that she ought to be grateful her breakfast had been so unsatisfying; if it wasn't for the fact that she was hungry and annoyed, she would be dozing off. It was hard to play the part of anxious mother when snoring.
"Aha!" General Goon hurriedly pressed a button, and the video player screeched its way to a more normal timeframe.
Chichi leaned forward, chin in hand. This was the part that was supposed to be proving to her that her son was an alien-- she'd better make up some arguments against whatever he showed.
"At the point these videos were made, we had intelligence already that suggested that the humanoid Son Gohan was actually extraterrestrial; but until we were actually able to document these matters, such speculations had been met with... skepticism." General Goon smirked, then went on: "This tape, however, ended all such doubts."
On the tape, Chichi saw her son coming out of the forest, carrying an immense oak tree overhead. He was hovering five feet above the ground. The camera zoomed in on his feet, and the placement of the noonday shadow underneath him.
Gohan landed, then effortlessly tossed the tree into the air, and jumped after it, out of the range of the lens. The camera swooped up to follow him, attempting to refocus to account for the bright sun; in the sky, a great blur of log and boy darted around, too fast for the eye to follow; then out of the sky and into a perfect pyramidal pile fell perfect wooden logs, trim and well-formed. Slowly, the boy descended to land on top of them, smiling contentedly.
Chichi sat with her mouth open, mental gears whirling. To explain... how to explain...
"Would you like to see that again, Mrs. Son?"
Chichi nodded. Anything for a little extra time!
The General played back the air sequence, frame by frame; what was too fast for the human eye was not, evidently, too fast for military surveillance technology. On the screen, Gohan swooped up, contented, one hand behind his back; with three hits in the space of a millisecond, followed by one final kick, the tree politely obliged the young martial artist by splitting itself into truly exemplary firewood. A small circle of fire from his off hand obliterated the unneeded foliage.
It all took approximately one point three six seconds.
The General paused the video, and turned. Chichi felt like shrinking into herself; all eyes were on her.
"H...he always was so good about doing his chores," she offered.
There was no response.
"You can do anything with video technology these days!" she said, waving a hand angrily.
General Goon cocked an eyebrow, then shook his head.
Behind him, the lieutenant sighed. "In denial," he said. "It's so sad!" He wiped a stray tear from his eye.
Chichi wearily rubbed her eyes. It was going to be a long day.
***
Meanwhile, the real Gohan raced across the sky towards the landmark of Korin's tower, now growing swiftly in the distance. Somewhere behind him, he could feel the others following more slowly, but he had no time to lose. There was nothing, nothing from Piccolo in all the time since he'd awakened-- Piccolo, who always came for him if he was able. Piccolo, who had been tending Goten.
As the tower approached, Gohan angled his flight upwards, grateful for the energy the senzu bean had granted him (not to mention the most excellent pancakes.) So it was that he nearly missed the singe marks on the sides of the tower, or the small chunk out of one of its sides. Double-taking, he slowed his flight, and looked more closely. A battle had taken place here, too, last night-- with a great deal of heavy ammunition; from the looks of it, with much more artillery than he'd faced at Capsule Corp. There was no doubting it; the main battle had taken place here.
Gohan felt momentary panic. If Dende were to perish-- no. He shook his head, trying to shake that thought loose. There were things so terrible that even contemplating them would only lead to ruin. Besides, he told himself, he would be on the lookout soon enough. Sooner. Now.
The damage to the great bowl on the underside of Kami's Lookout made him cringe. For some reason, he'd always thought of the Lookout as somehow unassailable-- a high place away from all danger, where order and Kami prevailed-- even if it could not always help them in their battles directly, still its existence was a comfort in all times of need. However, in a world where even Piccolo was a stronger fighter than God, he now realized, that sort of idea was only a delusion-- a fairy tale. Another childhood dream of safety that would be shattered. Steeling himself for the worst, Gohan alighted on the tiled courtyard, and looked around.
The buildings were immaculate, more perfect than he'd ever seen them; even the leaves on the plants seemed a particularly cheerful shade of green. A few bullets had pushed their way into the floor, but they seemed ridiculously out-of-place, as if someone had drawn them in with a magic marker. And not twenty feet from him, Mr. Popo smiled as he watered his garden. It was as if nothing had ever happened.
Gohan heard the sound of his own heavy breathing echo around the peaceful courtyard, out of place as the signs of battle below; it hadn't seemed to have sunken in yet that the Lookout was, indeed, safe. Mr. Popo turned and nodded at him, and pointed at the main building.
"Thank you," Gohan managed, then looked behind to see Kuririn landing, exhausted from the rushed flight, and followed by Tenshinhan and Chaotzu.
"What happened here?" Kuririn asked urgently. "We saw the wreckage of more than a hundred helicopters and planes down around the village!"
"Ah," a calm voice rang out from across the courtyard.
Dende had emerged from the main building, antenna slightly awry, but otherwise in perfect health. In his arms he carried a laughing child.
"I was wondering when you would come," Dende continued, regally, as he approached them; then he smiled, breaking out of his formality: "I'm so glad you're here!"
"Goten!" shouted Gohan, at last breaking free from his shock. He ran forward, and took the baby into his arms. Goten immediately grabbed him by the nose, twisting it hard. It smarted like the dickens.
"Who chased them off?" asked Tenshinhan, solemnly.
"...could it be Yajirobe?" Kuririn said slowly, scrunching up his cheeks in skepticism.
"Yajirobe and Korin took out a couple that got too close," Dende said, "But they're not much good with aerial combat.
"Mr. Popo took care of the rest," he continued, motioning towards the garden.
Slowly, everyone turned.
Mr. Popo altered his grip on his watering can.
"You didn't think the Lookout was completely defenseless, did you?" Dende asked smugly. "It was just some men in helicopters! I wouldn't be much use if I couldn't take care of that!"
Gohan and Kuririn both reddened, trying to look casual. Tenshinhan smirked and narrowed his third eye in amusement.
"Vegeta's been poisoned by them," Kuririn said. "D--"
"Where is Piccolo?" interrupted Gohan, suddenly frowning again. "He brought Goten here, right?"
Dende frowned. "I haven't seen him! Goten just appeared, right on the edge of the Lookout-- he almost rolled off; he was so muffled in that cloak that we didn't find him until he'd been there for some time."
"Cloak-- Piccolo's cloak?" Gohan said, intently. Goten, annoyed at being ignored began to whack him with his heels.
"Yes." Dende pulled out a piece of the white fabric. "It showed signs of fire and battle, so I assumed he was off fighting somewhere, and someone had brought Goten in his cloak-- in any case, I healed a couple of minor burns, and then the army showed up. I haven't had very much time to find out what's been going on. Vegeta poisoned? How? Was he killed?"
Gohan quickly walked to the edge of the Lookout, leaving the others to explain the night's events to the God of Earth. It had been nighttime when Goten had arrived, so-- there it was. A spot of soot, fifteen degrees from him. He swooped down on it, then knelt to examine it. The pattern was smudged, but the scoring down the side looked familiar--
"Dende!" he called over to the others. "It looks like someone with claws held to the side here, but slipped down. I think Piccolo fell from here. We need to find him. Follow me!"
Gohan dove from the side of the Lookout, freefalling down into the clouds, gone from view even as the others came forward.
"But Piccolo-san can fly," Dende called down, futilely.
"Not if he was already badly injured," Kuririn said, and dove after Gohan, turning as he fell. "Come on!" he shouted up, before vanishing into the clouds.
***
Chichi stifled a yawn. They had been watching videos for the past hour. Gohan doing homework at ridiculous speeds. Gohan training with Piccolo, accompanied by a detailed explanation by General Goon about how these techniques were *particular* to the Namek species. A conversation, partially muffled, in which Gohan talked about being "back on Namek"; and, just for variety, a more recent video from Capsule Corp, in which Vegeta predictably expressed disdain at the humans' capacity for self rule, and declared his intentions to conquer as soon as his training was complete, after which he stalked off to the GR, and promptly accidentally blew it up. Although the last video made her think Vegeta really did deserve everything that came his way, and she felt a momentary lapse in guilt for any part she'd played in taking him down, she had spent the large part of the videos contemplating her surroundings. The dual triangle motif on the mysterious chip-- she thought she recognized it. A symbol of the old Red Ribbon Army, defeated by her husband twenty years ago. Perhaps even one of Gero's designs, although she shuddered to imagine it-- Gohan hadn't been training; Goku was gone. She would have to try to take it out herself, before it had been fully constructed.
Currently on the screen was a close-up of Gohan shoveling mass quantities of food into his mouth. That lunch had taken her two hours to prepare, Chichi thought with a twinge of annoyance; it took him two minutes to decimate it.
"So you see," General Goon was saying, "The space restrictions and digestive capabilities of the *human* stomach are far too limitied to take in, over the course of four hours, even half of what this being consumes in two minu--"
"General Goon," Chichi interrupted, tired of the lecture, "Are you building an android?" She folded her arms over her chest, giving him a stern glare.
General Goon paused, gaping like a stout bass.
"Ah... M... Mrs. Son, whatever would give you that idea?" He hedged.
Chichi pointed. "That is Dr. Gero's technology, if I'm not mistaken," she said. "A central processor for the androids."
"Oohhh! That" General Goon exhaled, relieved, then turned his sternest glare back at hers. The Lieutenant looked nervous. "Mrs. Son, I'm insulted that you would ever think that we would endanger our citizenry like that! What do you take us for, the Red Ribbon Army?"
Chichi's face slid in surprise. They weren't?
"No," General Goon went on, oblivious. "We are your government, Mrs. Son! We are just trying to protect everyone! That's why we must take down the floating stronghold, remove the compromised firm of Capsule Corporation, and eliminate the alien threat to the legendary dragonballs. I know they're after them."
Chichi didn't have the heart to tell him that taking out the Lookout wasn't exactly compatible with *preserving* dragonballs. She sighed.
"No, the chip is merely how we got our initial information," General Goon explained. "We picked it off the battlefield after the Cell Games last year-- it belonged to the robot designated Sixteen. Imagine our surprise to find a large portion of it consisted of databases-- filled with information about strange, inhuman warriors who fought among us unknown, wreaking international havoc!" Goon harrumphed. "It was this find that led me to watch all of these warriors-- although several of them could not be found until last night.
"What we found," he whispered intensely, "sickened us."
Chichi inadvertently stepped back in response to the hatred in his voice. He was so afraid of the people she'd been friends with since she was eleven years old!
"Humans consorting with Killer Androids. Genocidal maniacs left to live in peace without trial to train to kill again! Known former demon lords hidden in the forest; the presence of Namekian imposters concealed from your benevolent government..."
Chichi thought she'd had about enough of Her Benevolent Government.
"You are insane," she said, narrowing her eyes. "Paranoid and dangerously insane. Didn't anyone ever teach you to think about your actions? Who kidnaps people and then expects them to sympathise with one?" She was yelling, now, but she didn't care. "Who blows people up without even talking to them first? Benevolent? I'll give you benevolent--"
She kicked the bar of the cage, in her rage bending it several inches, although it did not break. General Goon lept back in surprise and a sudden fear that he couldn't hide. Chichi jumped against the cage, thrusting her arm between the bars-- her fingers came only two inches short, and then, horribly, the cage overbalanced, leaving her barely time to pull her arm back in before she crashed against the ground with it, bars biting into her ribs like hammer blows. She cried out in pain, but pulled herself to her knees anyway, clutching her side.
"M- My son will annihilate you!" She yelled. "You and your crazy, malicious little men! You underestimate what you are up against, you petty, little man!"
General Goon regarded her sadly as she sat there, panting painfully in her small iron cage. Across the room the old Red Ribbon chip fed its information passively, like a mother bird to its young. "It is true," he said at last. "We did underestimate you last night."
He turned towards the door in silence. Chichi's heart beat strangely in her chest. Angry as she was, she had to swallow back a plaintive cry that they stay with her-- that at least she would not be alone in this cell, under the world, in a land of wires and cold inhumanity.
General Goon turned in the opened door; the bright light and bustle of the hallway spilled in the room, making it seem darker than it truly was. "We will not make that mistake again," he said; and closed the door.
Chapter 10: Video Technology For Better Living
Chichi sat in her cage in a funk. Lousy as the porridge had been, she found herself eyeing her empty bowl mournfully. Whatever it had been, at least it had been breakfast. But they could have had the decency to give her some pickles. Or at least toast.
General Goon had his thumb on a remote controller, zipping through several days' worth of surveillance camera footage of her own house. The camera used some sort of fisheye lens which distorted everything, making the view nearly unrecognizable; in a corner, the red numerals that showed the date whizzed by, and day and night followed one another monotonously. It occured to Chichi that she ought to be grateful her breakfast had been so unsatisfying; if it wasn't for the fact that she was hungry and annoyed, she would be dozing off. It was hard to play the part of anxious mother when snoring.
"Aha!" General Goon hurriedly pressed a button, and the video player screeched its way to a more normal timeframe.
Chichi leaned forward, chin in hand. This was the part that was supposed to be proving to her that her son was an alien-- she'd better make up some arguments against whatever he showed.
"At the point these videos were made, we had intelligence already that suggested that the humanoid Son Gohan was actually extraterrestrial; but until we were actually able to document these matters, such speculations had been met with... skepticism." General Goon smirked, then went on: "This tape, however, ended all such doubts."
On the tape, Chichi saw her son coming out of the forest, carrying an immense oak tree overhead. He was hovering five feet above the ground. The camera zoomed in on his feet, and the placement of the noonday shadow underneath him.
Gohan landed, then effortlessly tossed the tree into the air, and jumped after it, out of the range of the lens. The camera swooped up to follow him, attempting to refocus to account for the bright sun; in the sky, a great blur of log and boy darted around, too fast for the eye to follow; then out of the sky and into a perfect pyramidal pile fell perfect wooden logs, trim and well-formed. Slowly, the boy descended to land on top of them, smiling contentedly.
Chichi sat with her mouth open, mental gears whirling. To explain... how to explain...
"Would you like to see that again, Mrs. Son?"
Chichi nodded. Anything for a little extra time!
The General played back the air sequence, frame by frame; what was too fast for the human eye was not, evidently, too fast for military surveillance technology. On the screen, Gohan swooped up, contented, one hand behind his back; with three hits in the space of a millisecond, followed by one final kick, the tree politely obliged the young martial artist by splitting itself into truly exemplary firewood. A small circle of fire from his off hand obliterated the unneeded foliage.
It all took approximately one point three six seconds.
The General paused the video, and turned. Chichi felt like shrinking into herself; all eyes were on her.
"H...he always was so good about doing his chores," she offered.
There was no response.
"You can do anything with video technology these days!" she said, waving a hand angrily.
General Goon cocked an eyebrow, then shook his head.
Behind him, the lieutenant sighed. "In denial," he said. "It's so sad!" He wiped a stray tear from his eye.
Chichi wearily rubbed her eyes. It was going to be a long day.
***
Meanwhile, the real Gohan raced across the sky towards the landmark of Korin's tower, now growing swiftly in the distance. Somewhere behind him, he could feel the others following more slowly, but he had no time to lose. There was nothing, nothing from Piccolo in all the time since he'd awakened-- Piccolo, who always came for him if he was able. Piccolo, who had been tending Goten.
As the tower approached, Gohan angled his flight upwards, grateful for the energy the senzu bean had granted him (not to mention the most excellent pancakes.) So it was that he nearly missed the singe marks on the sides of the tower, or the small chunk out of one of its sides. Double-taking, he slowed his flight, and looked more closely. A battle had taken place here, too, last night-- with a great deal of heavy ammunition; from the looks of it, with much more artillery than he'd faced at Capsule Corp. There was no doubting it; the main battle had taken place here.
Gohan felt momentary panic. If Dende were to perish-- no. He shook his head, trying to shake that thought loose. There were things so terrible that even contemplating them would only lead to ruin. Besides, he told himself, he would be on the lookout soon enough. Sooner. Now.
The damage to the great bowl on the underside of Kami's Lookout made him cringe. For some reason, he'd always thought of the Lookout as somehow unassailable-- a high place away from all danger, where order and Kami prevailed-- even if it could not always help them in their battles directly, still its existence was a comfort in all times of need. However, in a world where even Piccolo was a stronger fighter than God, he now realized, that sort of idea was only a delusion-- a fairy tale. Another childhood dream of safety that would be shattered. Steeling himself for the worst, Gohan alighted on the tiled courtyard, and looked around.
The buildings were immaculate, more perfect than he'd ever seen them; even the leaves on the plants seemed a particularly cheerful shade of green. A few bullets had pushed their way into the floor, but they seemed ridiculously out-of-place, as if someone had drawn them in with a magic marker. And not twenty feet from him, Mr. Popo smiled as he watered his garden. It was as if nothing had ever happened.
Gohan heard the sound of his own heavy breathing echo around the peaceful courtyard, out of place as the signs of battle below; it hadn't seemed to have sunken in yet that the Lookout was, indeed, safe. Mr. Popo turned and nodded at him, and pointed at the main building.
"Thank you," Gohan managed, then looked behind to see Kuririn landing, exhausted from the rushed flight, and followed by Tenshinhan and Chaotzu.
"What happened here?" Kuririn asked urgently. "We saw the wreckage of more than a hundred helicopters and planes down around the village!"
"Ah," a calm voice rang out from across the courtyard.
Dende had emerged from the main building, antenna slightly awry, but otherwise in perfect health. In his arms he carried a laughing child.
"I was wondering when you would come," Dende continued, regally, as he approached them; then he smiled, breaking out of his formality: "I'm so glad you're here!"
"Goten!" shouted Gohan, at last breaking free from his shock. He ran forward, and took the baby into his arms. Goten immediately grabbed him by the nose, twisting it hard. It smarted like the dickens.
"Who chased them off?" asked Tenshinhan, solemnly.
"...could it be Yajirobe?" Kuririn said slowly, scrunching up his cheeks in skepticism.
"Yajirobe and Korin took out a couple that got too close," Dende said, "But they're not much good with aerial combat.
"Mr. Popo took care of the rest," he continued, motioning towards the garden.
Slowly, everyone turned.
Mr. Popo altered his grip on his watering can.
"You didn't think the Lookout was completely defenseless, did you?" Dende asked smugly. "It was just some men in helicopters! I wouldn't be much use if I couldn't take care of that!"
Gohan and Kuririn both reddened, trying to look casual. Tenshinhan smirked and narrowed his third eye in amusement.
"Vegeta's been poisoned by them," Kuririn said. "D--"
"Where is Piccolo?" interrupted Gohan, suddenly frowning again. "He brought Goten here, right?"
Dende frowned. "I haven't seen him! Goten just appeared, right on the edge of the Lookout-- he almost rolled off; he was so muffled in that cloak that we didn't find him until he'd been there for some time."
"Cloak-- Piccolo's cloak?" Gohan said, intently. Goten, annoyed at being ignored began to whack him with his heels.
"Yes." Dende pulled out a piece of the white fabric. "It showed signs of fire and battle, so I assumed he was off fighting somewhere, and someone had brought Goten in his cloak-- in any case, I healed a couple of minor burns, and then the army showed up. I haven't had very much time to find out what's been going on. Vegeta poisoned? How? Was he killed?"
Gohan quickly walked to the edge of the Lookout, leaving the others to explain the night's events to the God of Earth. It had been nighttime when Goten had arrived, so-- there it was. A spot of soot, fifteen degrees from him. He swooped down on it, then knelt to examine it. The pattern was smudged, but the scoring down the side looked familiar--
"Dende!" he called over to the others. "It looks like someone with claws held to the side here, but slipped down. I think Piccolo fell from here. We need to find him. Follow me!"
Gohan dove from the side of the Lookout, freefalling down into the clouds, gone from view even as the others came forward.
"But Piccolo-san can fly," Dende called down, futilely.
"Not if he was already badly injured," Kuririn said, and dove after Gohan, turning as he fell. "Come on!" he shouted up, before vanishing into the clouds.
***
Chichi stifled a yawn. They had been watching videos for the past hour. Gohan doing homework at ridiculous speeds. Gohan training with Piccolo, accompanied by a detailed explanation by General Goon about how these techniques were *particular* to the Namek species. A conversation, partially muffled, in which Gohan talked about being "back on Namek"; and, just for variety, a more recent video from Capsule Corp, in which Vegeta predictably expressed disdain at the humans' capacity for self rule, and declared his intentions to conquer as soon as his training was complete, after which he stalked off to the GR, and promptly accidentally blew it up. Although the last video made her think Vegeta really did deserve everything that came his way, and she felt a momentary lapse in guilt for any part she'd played in taking him down, she had spent the large part of the videos contemplating her surroundings. The dual triangle motif on the mysterious chip-- she thought she recognized it. A symbol of the old Red Ribbon Army, defeated by her husband twenty years ago. Perhaps even one of Gero's designs, although she shuddered to imagine it-- Gohan hadn't been training; Goku was gone. She would have to try to take it out herself, before it had been fully constructed.
Currently on the screen was a close-up of Gohan shoveling mass quantities of food into his mouth. That lunch had taken her two hours to prepare, Chichi thought with a twinge of annoyance; it took him two minutes to decimate it.
"So you see," General Goon was saying, "The space restrictions and digestive capabilities of the *human* stomach are far too limitied to take in, over the course of four hours, even half of what this being consumes in two minu--"
"General Goon," Chichi interrupted, tired of the lecture, "Are you building an android?" She folded her arms over her chest, giving him a stern glare.
General Goon paused, gaping like a stout bass.
"Ah... M... Mrs. Son, whatever would give you that idea?" He hedged.
Chichi pointed. "That is Dr. Gero's technology, if I'm not mistaken," she said. "A central processor for the androids."
"Oohhh! That" General Goon exhaled, relieved, then turned his sternest glare back at hers. The Lieutenant looked nervous. "Mrs. Son, I'm insulted that you would ever think that we would endanger our citizenry like that! What do you take us for, the Red Ribbon Army?"
Chichi's face slid in surprise. They weren't?
"No," General Goon went on, oblivious. "We are your government, Mrs. Son! We are just trying to protect everyone! That's why we must take down the floating stronghold, remove the compromised firm of Capsule Corporation, and eliminate the alien threat to the legendary dragonballs. I know they're after them."
Chichi didn't have the heart to tell him that taking out the Lookout wasn't exactly compatible with *preserving* dragonballs. She sighed.
"No, the chip is merely how we got our initial information," General Goon explained. "We picked it off the battlefield after the Cell Games last year-- it belonged to the robot designated Sixteen. Imagine our surprise to find a large portion of it consisted of databases-- filled with information about strange, inhuman warriors who fought among us unknown, wreaking international havoc!" Goon harrumphed. "It was this find that led me to watch all of these warriors-- although several of them could not be found until last night.
"What we found," he whispered intensely, "sickened us."
Chichi inadvertently stepped back in response to the hatred in his voice. He was so afraid of the people she'd been friends with since she was eleven years old!
"Humans consorting with Killer Androids. Genocidal maniacs left to live in peace without trial to train to kill again! Known former demon lords hidden in the forest; the presence of Namekian imposters concealed from your benevolent government..."
Chichi thought she'd had about enough of Her Benevolent Government.
"You are insane," she said, narrowing her eyes. "Paranoid and dangerously insane. Didn't anyone ever teach you to think about your actions? Who kidnaps people and then expects them to sympathise with one?" She was yelling, now, but she didn't care. "Who blows people up without even talking to them first? Benevolent? I'll give you benevolent--"
She kicked the bar of the cage, in her rage bending it several inches, although it did not break. General Goon lept back in surprise and a sudden fear that he couldn't hide. Chichi jumped against the cage, thrusting her arm between the bars-- her fingers came only two inches short, and then, horribly, the cage overbalanced, leaving her barely time to pull her arm back in before she crashed against the ground with it, bars biting into her ribs like hammer blows. She cried out in pain, but pulled herself to her knees anyway, clutching her side.
"M- My son will annihilate you!" She yelled. "You and your crazy, malicious little men! You underestimate what you are up against, you petty, little man!"
General Goon regarded her sadly as she sat there, panting painfully in her small iron cage. Across the room the old Red Ribbon chip fed its information passively, like a mother bird to its young. "It is true," he said at last. "We did underestimate you last night."
He turned towards the door in silence. Chichi's heart beat strangely in her chest. Angry as she was, she had to swallow back a plaintive cry that they stay with her-- that at least she would not be alone in this cell, under the world, in a land of wires and cold inhumanity.
General Goon turned in the opened door; the bright light and bustle of the hallway spilled in the room, making it seem darker than it truly was. "We will not make that mistake again," he said; and closed the door.