CELLS A2 AND A3
"… HEY! HEY! HOLY SHIT!"
Tristan's eyes snapped open, inviting the familiar blinding white light. He almost fell off the top bunk but gripped the edges just in time. He found himself peeing over the edge, at the floor, seeing himself repeated to infinity. The headache came back with a vengeance.
His bunk-mate on the bottom, a raccoon he couldn't recall the name of, was looking across the room, fixated on something specific. Tristan lifted his head and froze.
In the center of the floor, between the two islands of bunk-beds, was what appeared to be a bowl of fruit.
A cougar was crawling close to it, sniffing the air around it. By this time, the rest of Tristan's cell mates were wide awake.
"THERE'S SOMETHING OVER HERE!" came a voice from the other side of the cell. In a flash, Tristan was off of his bunk and quickly traveling to A3. He stopped at the cluster of four beds.
"Don't touch it! Everyone just get out of bed!" He was surprised how quickly they obeyed this, how fast they welcomed some forced direction. He saw an identical bowl in their half of the cell too.
Buster and the others in the A3 half carefully avoided the proximity of their mysterious bowl and met Tristan them at the dividing line. He led them to the group gathering around the first bowl of fruit. Tristan shoved his way to the front of the crowd, kneeling down.
"Okay…"
There didn't appear to be anything particularly sinister about it. It was a large bowl of fruit. The container was a thick sort of transparent plastic. It was rough to the touch.
Tristan didn't know what came next. "Okay… who found it?"
The cougar spoke up. "I did."
"Huhm. And what's your name?"
"Durango. Didn't catch yours, grim."
Tristan introduced himself, keeping an eye on the bowl. His stomach rumbled and he fought to silence it. "Did anybody see where this came from?"
Silence from the ranks. The three girls stayed huddled together and looked at each other, waiting for an answer. But no one said anything.
"Fine… um, who was the last one to go to sleep?"
Durango suddenly stood to his feet. "Come on! Nobody saw anything!"
Buster lowered his eyes, shielding himself from Durango's gaze and brushing his fur back. The two raccoons of the group met and whispered. Then:
"We think… uh, we were."
Tristan tried to remember their names. He was certain that he saw them around Knothole village. A lot of the citizens tended to stick to their own species, only venturing outside of their cliques when they were assigned to a mission. He had met these two on more than one occasion.
Crap. What a mess. Tristan had fallen asleep before everyone, at approximately midday. Tristan inhaled deeply. "Nocturnal, right?"
"Right, sir. When we all woke up, we were pretty sure it was daytime. We tried to look outside but we can't see the sky."
"Your name is Simon?"
"Yes, sir."
Tristan shrugged, as though emerging from a jacket. "Don't worry about the sir, Simon. I'm not your superior here."
Simon cocked his head sideways. "But, sir-"
"Hey, doofus, he told you not to call him sir," the other raccoon said. "Point is, everyone else fell asleep, but we didn't get the urge to yet. We don't usually until morning, understand? Besides, who could sleep in a place like this…"
Simon spoke up eagerly. "Sir, we waited as long as we could, but I guess we did end up conking out. I'm sorry, sir, but we really tried to stay awake."
Tristan remembered something. "Your bed is under mine, right Simon?"
"Yes sir."
"Do you recall falling asleep there last night?"
Simon thought for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he strained to remember. He couldn't come up with a satisfying answer. Tristan turned to the other raccoon and got the same result.
Curious. They couldn't remember when they had fallen asleep, and they had both woken up in their beds.
And now the bowls of fruit, placed in between all of them, right under their noses.
"It's him," Durango said. "Robotnik. The fucker's toying with us. He snatches us up in the middle of the night, out of our homes, and he puts us in this fucking place so he can play with us, before killing us."
"Wasn't… I mean, wasn't Robotnik done for? Killed in the explosion?" one of the girls, a sad-eyed pig named Holly, asked.
Another girl, the rabbit, spoke next. "How did he find Knothole! I thought we were safe there! He can't come back from the dead, can he!" Tristan remembered this girl now; a jittery type, almost never went on recon missions because of how nervous she was. "Jenn?" He laid a hand on her shoulder to calm her down, but she jerked away.
"I don't think the food is a trap," Tristan carefully put. He was halfway lying, the hunger swaying his decisions. "The bathrooms, maybe, but not the food. If he wanted us dead, he would have done it by now."
"Well, no way I'm touching that shit. I'd rather starve to death," the raccoon said. His friend Simon appeared apprehensive.
"Shirk-"
"No way, man! You can't force me to do nothin!"
"All right, all right, fair enough," Tristan eased.
Durango was still on his feet, determined to win over the majority. "I'm with Shirk. You've all heard those stories about Robotnik, what he does to prisoners. Snively too. They're both sadistic little fuckers, and if you want my opinion, I say we strike it out and wait for rescue. I am not playing by their rules."
"We're already playing by their rules. How did they get this in here? Do you see any doors? He has us wrapped around all ten of his fingers." He paused, trying to get it all out. "I think… I think he just wants to keep us alive until Robotocization. Or maybe we're bait, who knows. If he really wanted to torture us, he'd starve us to death and wouldn't bother with the fruit."
"Assuming that's what it is. It could be fake."
"Or poisoned," Shirk said, on his feet as well.
Jenn huddled into the other girls, whimpering. "I-c-can't take t-th-his-s…"
Durango was getting impatient. He sighed, hoping it would force a decision from everyone. Tristan eyed the fruit, studying the reflection in the floor as well.
Eventually, he stood to his feet as well, turning to face Durango head-on. "Well, we can't just sit here forever. And we can't very well ignore it either."
"Oh, come on!"
"Wait, wait a second, just hear me out. We don't all have to try it, okay? I'm famished, seriously, and I would prefer a quick death from poison to a slow one from starvation. I'll try it, alone… and then we'll know for sure what we're dealing with."
"You can't be serious."
Tristan stood his ground. "I am."
"It's a trick! It has to be! Robotnik is sick! Sick! Maybe he's knows one of us will try it out and then we'll have a dead body on our hands!"
He hadn't thought of that. Tristan looked at the surveillance cameras in the corners of the cell. He looked over to the A1 cell but saw that they were huddled over the same dilemma. None of the others had spoken up, agreed or disagreed. This was totally nuts, it-
A loud CRUNCH caught everyone's attention. The sound came from the fruit bowl. Completely caught up in the discussion, no one had noticed Buster pick an pear out of the pile and take a huge bite.
They watched him chew, and he watched them back with a mischievous but frightened look in his eyes. He paused, swallowed, then smiled, with bits of the pear still stuck to his teeth.
"Not bad," he said.
The fruit tasted great. Brilliant. Tristan tore into it with a ravenous hunger but made sure to swallow every last bite. There was enough fruit in the first bowl for everyone to have two pieces. The bodies separated and huddled themselves away from the video-cameras, ashamed of how helpless they had become.
The second bowl, the one in A3, didn't have any fruit in it. The mink girl, Sabrina, had finished her food and was the first to venture back over to her bed, passing the bowl along the way. She saw a bright blue sphere sticking out of it and curiosity got the best of her. Making sure the others weren't watching, she approached and picked it up with both hands. Up close, it didn't look like it was edible anymore. She almost dropped it when she realized what it was.
A volleyball. The lines were nearly invisible, buried in the pigment. It had looked so smooth from a distance. No longer scared, rolling the ball around in her hands, she felt the uncontrollable urge to bounce it, but she didn't want to alert her cellmates and start another paranoid discussion. Mostly, she didn't want to hear anything from that bastard Durango.
However, there was no place to keep it, let alone play with it in secret, unless she quietly tossed it to herself during the night, but was the ball really worth all the trouble?
"Screw it."
She waited for her friend Holly to finish eating, and she tossed the ball to her. They threw it back and forth discreetly and let Jenn join in shortly thereafter. Durango was actually the last person to notice what they were doing, and by the time he had started bitching at them, the men were playing too and they told him to either relax or fuck off. Defeated, he had sulked back to his bed.
A full day was hard to calculate. Throwing the ball back and forth could only last for so long, and after that, they usually stopped doing anything at all, sitting on their beds and counting the passing seconds. Tristan, always the optimistic one, figured it would be night again when they all fell asleep.
"It's a clever torture," he thought. "All this waiting, all of this boredom and anxiety, and our only opportunity to rest is forced upon us without our knowledge. Repeat each and every morning."
Neighboring cells appeared to be taking it just as well. The four guys in A1 had gotten two tennis rackets and a ball, and they had made up a game that would include all four of them. Tristan recognized one of them, Kevin, and made eye contact with him. He smiled and waved.
A4 appeared to be empty. How strange. An empty cell. But across that cell, at the very end in A5, there was definitely someone there. Tristan strained and tried to make him out…
BAM!
To Tristan's right, Shirk had control of the volleyball and was chucking it up at the video camera.
"Hey! Knock it off."
"Aw come on, man, I bet I can knock it down!"
He wanted to quench this before it drew a crowd. "I don't doubt it. But another day."
"Nuts to another day! What makes you think this isn't our last?"
"Keep your voice down!" Tristan quickly swiped the ball out of Shirk's hands. "What good would it do to knock it down? I bet it'd be back up there the next morning."
Raccoons had eyes like daggers, and no matter what mood they were in, they always looked dangerous. Dark. Sinister. But Shirk lowered them and walked away, muttering to himself.
Tristan cradled the ball in his left arm, turning and motioning with his right. "Durango." The cougar responded with an upwards nod. "Come here for a second."
Durango swung down from his bunk and joined Tristan at the glass.
"Take a look at A5. Do you know who that is?"
At that moment, the occupant of A5 was sitting with his back to them, head lowered. He was either meditating or crying. "Maybe."
"Who do you think?"
Durango snorted. "Brandon."
"Yeah... I think so, too."
"Commander Brandon, right?"
"Or General or something, I don't remember. Have you ever met him?"
"Nah. He's the type of guy you know by reputation first. You've heard the stories, I take?"
He nodded. "Some."
"The guy's fifteen and already he- well, you know." Durango lowered his voice, enjoying the retelling of the tale. "I hear he planned a couple missions for the big guy himself. And all the elite Freedom Fighters, too. His plans have never failed, not yet. I think he was raised on chess or something."
"Yeah… I was thinking about all that. Why there isn't anyone in A4."
Durango turned back and searched the room, seeing the desolate cell, the cleanliness. No bunk-beds. "… Weird."
"He knew. Robotnik, or whoever is doing this to us, knew how important he was. Maybe they even thought he could spring us loose. That's why we're isolated from each other."
"Bullshit. How could they know?"
Tristan paused, keeping it in the air, letting it sink in. When Durango didn't say it first, he did. "Defector."
"… A spy."
"Someone in Knothole. Hell, anyone in Knothole. It has to be. How else could they have found us?"
He could see the cougar mulling it over, becoming friends with the notion, loving it and hating it. "We need to get out of here."
Durango grabbed the ball. "First thing's first."
It took ten minutes to gather them all together in a circle. It wasn't defiance that kept them apart, just impatience, but Tristan didn't make it easy for them to walk away. When all were together, finally, he explained what he had in mind. The idea was to pass the ball around to whoever they felt like passing it to. Whoever was holding had to state their name, and the last thing they remembered before they woke up here. Tristan said it would help pass the time.
Truthfully, he wanted to get a feel for the people he was stuck with. Jenn and Simon, he felt he could trust. The same with Durango, even if he was a little hotheaded. Buster and the rest were unknowns, and that was what made him uneasy. After all, one of them could be the spy that sold them out, waiting for them to reveal information about the other groups. Nothing was out of the woods.
… First thing's first. "I'm Tristan. I may have met some of you before but I have, heh, what you might call a lousy memory. I'm totally out of my element here. Before this… what can I say, I don't know. We didn't do anything big that day, I'm pretty sure. I pulled up what I could of the vegetables in the garden and put them in storage for the winter. Afterwards, I went to bed early. And that's about it…" He didn't think he'd be this nervous. He tossed the ball quickly, before he embarrassed himself further.
Jenn, the rabbit girl, caught it next. Immediately, her ears went flat against her head and she hunched her shoulders. Not good with people, obviously. All eyes were on her. She didn't know what to do. She managed to force out an "U-uh-mm-m…"
One of her friends came to the rescue. "Go ahead. They aren't going to laugh."
The girl showed her teeth. Regardless, she took her turn. "I'm Jenn, and I… I'm afraid I-I don't r-remember much either… I just, I went to sleep… I go to bed early a lot this time of year, like Tristan… I'm sorry I don't have any more…" She passed the ball to Holly.
"I've had plenty of time to think about it, so I know that, under normal circumstances, I might have something to share. Unfortunately, I do not. Back in Knothole, that last night, I couldn't sleep. I have a mild case of insomnia -- at least, that's what Draftwood tells me. I wanted to work myself sleepy in the garden, and last I remember, that is exactly where I was. I had a basket in my hand and I was finishing the last of Tristan's work. It was definitely evening, dark enough so I had trouble seeing. I was leaning down to pull up a radish, and that's all I can remember." She paused, blinking. "I've mentioned this to Sabrina already, and we discussed it." She tossed the ball to Sabrina. "Tell them."
She began immediately. "I was up late that night, too, but I was reading. Victory Tastes Yellow by Oscar Templeton. I don't know if any of you have read it, but there's this part where the main character gets in a fistfight with five soldiers from another company. It's starts with them pouring ice down the back of his shirt. This is what I remember reading last, only… I think I got to the end of the fight. I… I can't really explain it, but… I know he wins. The information is there -- I just don't remember reading it."
"I've read it before. How do you think he wins?" Shirk asked.
She pushed back her hair, massaging the left side of her head. "Something… a strategy maneuver… the neon pulse?"
"That's it."
"See? But I don't know when I read it. I might not ever be able to remember."
Shirk's excitement faded again. Another interesting development and they still couldn't do anything about it.
Sabrina tossed the ball to Buster. "Here ya go, bunk mate."
He caught it, sullen. His heart just wasn't in this game. "I went to sleep early too. I can't help." He tossed it to Durango.
Durango didn't have much to say either. "He probably thinks that this is stupid," Tristan thought. The guy doesn't like to follow orders.
Shirk was next, saying little about his last experience and instead, he grilled Sabrina non-stop, trying to get her to remember.
The game was over. The group was broken up. Simon didn't even get his turn.
Tristan felt tired again. He considered trying to stay awake but didn't think it would do any good. This had been his attitude ever since he heard that Robotnik had been killed. Why keep working the way they were? Why train the recruits and run missions?The war was as good as over. He had gotten overconfident, and lazy. They all had.
And they were paying for it now. It felt good and all to blame their capture on a defector, but the truth of the matter was that they should have kept fighting the way they had. They should have made the move into Robotropolis when they had the chance, when they could have won.
"Well shit. We're here now." He was laying in his bunk again, looking up at himself. His stomach rumbled. "Tomorrow, I'll save my other portion of fruit for later… if we even get any." The security cameras never moved. They were high enough so that they didn't have to. With all four, whoever was watching could see the entire room.
The guys in A1 were playing with the tennis ball again, but automatically, with no emotion behind it. It was a process. Throw the ball, catch the ball, throw the ball, pass the time. Don't think about death. Don't think about the outside world. Nothing exists outside of the cell. Live inside of your own head. Ignore what you can't control.
"Sir?"
Tristan saw Simon standing next to his bed, eyes barely peeking over the edge. "Hmm?"
"There was something I wanted to discuss with you. I was going to mention it in the group, but-"
"You never got your turn, I know. I'm sorry. They're a hard bunch to keep focused."
"Yes, sir. It's fine, it isn't bothering me."
"What do you remember, Simon?"
"Well… nothing, sir, nothing from Knothole. I went to bed early too."
"… Oh."
"But last night, before Shirk and I fell asleep, we tried to see out of the window in the bathroom. I got up on his shoulders but we still weren't tall enough. I couldn't see anything, sir, but… I could hear something."
Tristan sat up, making eye contact with the kid. "Yeah?"
"Yes sir, like… pounding. This constant rhythm… metal hitting metal. It was coming from far away, sir."
"… I see…" He looked around for Shirk and Durango. He couldn't see them. "Did you tell your buddy this?"
"Yes, sir."
"Hmmm… okay, tomorrow, how about you and I try and find out where it's coming from. We might be tall enough together, you think?"
Simon perked up, doing a terrible job at concealing his excitement. "Yes sir!"
"Just… keep it on the down low, you know what I mean?"
"Absolutely, sir!" Simon jumped into his bunk, bouncing. He sat down, thinking about it. He couldn't wait for tomorrow to come. "Sir?"
"Yeah?"
"I… I picked this bunk because I knew you were sleeping here. I admire you, sir." Simon relaxed, his head hitting his pillow. "You'll set us free, sir. I know you will."