Chapter Twelve: Trial and Error

"Well?"

Mandy handed him a data recorder drive. "I want you to watch this from beginning to end. This is my and Number One's chat with that little slime. We don't have anything in place for dealing with this sort of situation. I want your take on it and your opinion of what we should do."

With a sigh Ben took the drive. Mandy caught his expression.

"For the record, Tennyson, the only thing I enjoyed about that was the thought that I was making him feel a little bit of what Einstein Junior and DeeDee must have been feeling at that moment. I've got better things to do with my time."

Ben made a face, unable to forget the image of Dexter lying in a crumbled, bloodied heap, and as he took it from her hand he muttered, "No matter what he was feeling I'm sure it wasn't enough."

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

"So?"

"Um . . . so what?"

"Are you going to tell me what I want to know voluntarily or am I going to have to make you talk?"

It was obvious which method she favored.

"I want a lawyer."

"Really? Okay. A lawyer. Anything else?"

"Um, yeah! Better food! And I want to get out of here. And I want to be with my friends again."

"Anything else?"

"Yeah! I've got rights!"

"Do you?"

"Uh-huh!"

"What are they, exactly? 'Cause from where I'm sitting, you've got nothing."

Bloo hesitated, realizing too late that he was being mocked, and that by an expert. Normally he was the cleverest and wittiest of his peers, with all the sharp ideas and come-backs. It occurred to him that he was at a complete disadvantage. The blonde girl across from him - Mandy - was easily as intimidating as the Fusion he'd been dealing with and about as understanding. He glanced at the other person in the room, but Bloo already knew he would be of no help. Number One sat in mute revulsion as he bore witness to the interview, making no attempt to hide the hatred he was experiencing. Off to the side, a KND stenographer took down every word, never looking up from her machine.

Mandy folded her arms on the table and leaned across at the Imaginary Friend. Her eyes were narrowed and steely with disdain.

"Y'know, Bloo, I know a couple of people that want those exact same things as you do right now. Well, maybe not the lawyer. Dexter already has a whole army of them. But I'm sure he and DeeDee would love to have better food and to be out of Pittsburgh and back here with their friends. Thanks to you, though, they've been captured by Planet Fusion."

He stared at her, ashamed and defiant. "I had to do it. He would have killed Mac."

"Who is Mac?"

"My best friend! The best friend in the whole world! And I'm – I'm his Imaginary Friend."

"Your best friend," she echoed as if this was the first time she'd ever heard of such a thing. "So . . . what has this Mac done for the war?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's a pretty simple question, Bloo. What has Mac contributed to freeing this planet – your planet, by the way – from this invasion force? Is he a soldier? Scientist? Scout? Does he give money or is he a doctor or mechanic? What does he do that makes him so important that our side should be completely compromised so that he lives?"

"He's . . . he's my -"

"Your best friend. Yeah, I know. What's Mac done to make his life so important to this cause that Dexter - who's vital to it - should be sacrificed for him?"

"Mac . . . Mac isn't part of the war."

"Well, he is now, pal, and so are you. You're just on the wrong side."

"N-No! No, I'm not! I hate Fusion! I just want to get Mac back!"

"Spare me." Her contempt all but colored the air around her.

"No! I really do!" He was pleading, desperate.

"Brilliant." Mandy gestured. "You hate them so much you just handed over our top scientist and the number one financier of this whole war effort and his sister, in some flimsy attempt to keep a kid alive that's done absolutely nothing for planet Earth. Yeah, I'm buying your side of things. Tell me another one."

"It's not like that!"

"Then what's it like? Tell me. Who was your contact?"

"Dexter!"

She glared.

"No! I mean it! That's his name! Not that creepy kid here, the green version of him! Honest!"

Number One seemed inclined to throttle Bloo for calling Dexter a creepy kid. The only thing hampering him was Bloo's lack of a neck. He settled for a hearty frown that brought a glimmer of sweat to the Imaginary Friend's brow.

"His Fusion, you mean?" demanded Mandy ruthlessly.

"Yes! The one that attacked Foster's! He came in with Mechs and Monsters and they were killing everyone and - and he took Mac and he wrecked my home and he made me go to him and he said he'd kill Mac if I didn't get into Earth's headquarters and get him information on Dexter – the other one – and the Omnitrix and send him reports and – and – and -"

As he spoke the enormity of what he had wrought seemed to dawn on him. He stared at Mandy with eyes full of tears, stricken and suddenly horrified with himself.

"Did it ever occur to you to come to us and ask us to do something?" demanded Number One, unable to keep silent any longer. "We could have used this situation to our advantage and worked towards saving your friend."

Bloo looked horrified anew. "You – you would have done that?"

He slammed his fist on the table. "We gave you and your friends shelter, didn't we? This is fine repayment for our kindness."

The Imaginary Friend hung his head, crushed. "I'm sorry," he whispered, well aware that they neither cared what he felt nor did they wish to hear those words from him.

Mandy sat back in her chair. Her eyes weren't glowing red, but they may as well have been. She looked every inch as capable as any Fusion at getting what she wanted and there was no doubt she would be as underhanded and merciless as the enemy if he did not cooperate.

"Start with Foster's," she ordered.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

The interrogation was over three hours long. Ben watched every moment of it, then went back and watched the first hour of it again. It left him feeling nauseous, but he embraced the anger generated in his chest.

For all he was an amateur, Bloo had chosen his targets well. Through flattery and sweet-talk he had gotten his information about the planned assault on Townsville from Ed. To learn about the defenses, he had challenged Billy to a game of one-upmanship, somehow aware that Billy had recently wormed his way into Dexter's laboratory and must have seen the experimental weaponry the scientist wanted used against Fusion. He had sent information about the layout of their headquarters, personnel, staff, and every scrap of information he could find out about the primary leaders of Earth's Combined Forces. It was disconcerting for Ben to hear himself discussed as just a name, a thing, a source of information for the enemy. It was definitely a good thing he was so rarely here.

Bloo would sneak into the heliport radio room atop the DexLab building to contact the Fusion. He did not know, as Ben knew, that Computress had been tracking his every move during his last few days of freedom. It was unfortunate that the Fusion had acted far faster and with greater purpose than they had.

Number One took over the questioning, his smooth voice under tight control as he pried answers out of Bloo. Swiftly he got to the heart of the matter: the Fusion not only wanted the Omnitrix, but he wanted Dexter. And not just Dexter – he wanted to get his hands on both Dexter and DeeDee. With single-minded fervor born of hopelessness, Bloo never questioned why both children should be taken. Ben knew full well DeeDee was wanted only to control and manipulate her younger brother. As much as they fought, they were very devoted to each other and Dexter would defend her against the world if needs be.

Bloo clearly had no notion that he had been set up when he eavesdropped on their conversation about the Omnitrix. Once the Fusion had found out Dexter was going to do an analysis of the alien device, Bloo's last task had been to watch DeeDee and report when she entered the lab. That was all. He knew nothing of what the Fusion planned, nor did he give a thought to anything or anyone beyond Mac. His desperation was complete, and his thoughts did not run to consequences. With the delivery of Dexter and DeeDee into enemy hands, he fully expected the person that had attacked his home, slaughtered his peers, and kidnapped his best friend to keep his word and free Mac.

Ben watched in sickened fascination, glad he had missed this and wishing he could avoid it now. He was sorely tempted to call Seventy-Seven and see how Dexter was doing, but he'd already been warned that they expected little change anytime soon and to let the decompression chamber do its job so the nitrogen in his system reverted to its normal state. Instead he backtracked the recording and listened to Bloo's defeated voice as he tried once again to explain why he had betrayed them so completely.

He was not surprised that Bloo's reasons were not entirely selfless.

"I . . . I don't want to end up waiting to be adopted."

For that he had handed over Earth's foremost creative genius. For that, Dexter had been tortured. Because Blooregard Q. Kazoo was afraid of being alone, Ben Tennyson's good friend and fellow soldier had almost died.

He froze the image, staring at the blue face and the wide eyes, feeling no sympathy. He was certain Bloo was sorry, as much for his failure and getting caught as for making such a huge mistake.

A knock on the door roused him from his brooding and before he could respond, Number One and Number Two filed in. They were followed closely by Eddy, who slapped four bottles of root beer into the center of the table. The boys dropped into chairs on the other side of the table and fell into brown studies of their own.

"Anyone check on Dexter lately?" Ben finally asked, snagging one of the bottles.

Eddy raised his hand. "Tried. I got told off by a nurse. At least she was cute," he added, consoling himself.

Silence. Finally Eddy opened his root beer with a loud hissing noise. Number One gave in and took the last two drinks, passing one to his subordinate.

"You guys see this?" asked Ben, waving his bottle at the frozen image of Bloo.

"First hand," said Number One bitterly as the others nodded.

He powered down the unit, already sick of Bloo. "So what do you think?"

Number Two leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. "There are a lot of factors involved."

Ben glared. "I had to do rescue breathing on one of those factors!"

Number One raised his hands, gesturing for calm on both sides of the table. "As an Imaginary Friend, Bloo was responding to his nature to protect the boy that created him. I'm not defending him, Ben," One said sternly as that green-eyed glare shifted to encompass him as well. "I'm merely stating a fact. There's no denying his conduct was unacceptable, but at the same time he was exploited and to a certain degree he's a victim of Dexter's Fusion as well."

"A much lesser degree," corrected Ben coldly.

"Much," agreed Eddy.

Number One nodded, recognizing their stance. He thoroughly approved and agreed, but as the person most used to command and all its burdens present he felt the need to state the case as clearly and fairly as possible.

Number Two gave up studying the ceiling and nursed his drink. "We'll have to establish his status."

"How about 'Traitor'?" suggested Eddy grandly, framing the word with his outstretched hands.

"He's not in the military or affiliated in any way. We can't court martial him."

"Enemy combatant?" suggested Ben. "Domestic terrorist?"

Eddy nodded and winked, his fingers held like a gun as he pointed. "Good one, Ben."

"Let's just call him a prisoner for now," said Number One, tired.

Ben leaned his head on his fist. "Has anyone told him this kid Mac is alive?"

The four boys looked back and forth. None of them could answer, but Number Two said, "Mandy's ordered he's to be kept incommunicado."

Another round of looks was exchanged and they all slumped in their chairs.

"That shouldn't give me any pleasure," began Number One.

"Sure gives me a pang of satisfaction," said Ben.

Eddy smiled a smug and cocky smile. "Ditto."

They raised their bottles in a wordless salute and each took a drink.

"So what are we going to do with him?" wondered Number Two. "Mandy's asking for recommendations."

"I hear the North Pole is nice this time of year," quipped Eddy.

"Tempting," Number Two said. "I think she had something closer and more manageable in mind."

"We can't release him," said Number One. "And despite our feelings I sincerely doubt anyone is going to be willing to pass a death sentence at trial, given the situation he was in, let alone act as executioner. Face it, it's just not our style."

"So we keep him locked up until . . . we decide to deal with him. If we decide to deal with him," Ben added under his breath, sitting up straight again. "The question is, where?"

"What's wrong with right here?" asked Eddy. "The facility is in place already."

"Would you be keen on sharing the same roof as Bloo, Eddy?" Ben shook his head. "We can't do that. This is Dexter's home."

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

"Mandy," said the deep, raspy, and unenthusiastic voice of Mrs. Warthog over the intercom, "there's a Mr. Mandark here to see you."

"Send him in. Hold all my calls."

"Right away."

Tall, skinny, gawky, and somewhat twisted, Mandark had a ways to go before he actually became imposing. Mandy supposed that with a decade or two of practice he'd eventually pull it off, sooner if he'd lose the shorts and suspenders. He swept into her office with a dramatic flair completely unlike the door-slamming, screaming drama she usually got from Dexter. It was an interesting change of focus. She hadn't dealt with Mandark very much since the war started. He tended to keep to himself as he obsessed over beating Dexter and mooning over DeeDee. He was at least as brilliant as Dexter in his own way, as single-minded, arrogant, and egotistical as his rival, too. The primary difference between the two boys was that Dexter was willing to put everything on the line for the Earth whereas Mandark always put his own interests first.

He stood before her desk, wrapped in his cape like some gigantic carrion bird. Seeing as how Mandy had hung out with the Grim Reaper for years, nothing could intimidate her, especially a geeky scarecrow in glasses.

"Mandy," he said by way of greeting.

"Mandark," she returned. "Take a seat."

He waited. He knew she wanted something and he was going to force her to say it.

"Please," she finally spat.

Satisfied, he sat down with a superior little smirk.

"So . . ." he drawled, enjoying himself. "How is Dexter doing?"

"He's recovering," she said evenly.

"What happened?"

"He's got an obsessed Fusion is what happened. You don't bounce right back from kidnapping and torture and mind-probes, but the doctors here at DexLabs say he'll improve rapidly now that the decompression sickness has been dealt with."

She watched him as she spoke, gauging his reaction. Mandark already knew the facts – with so many people sent on the rescue mission it was next to impossible to keep a lid on the details, especially since Dexter was so important to their side. Word had leaked out and she had simply issued a brief statement of events to quell as many rumors as she could.

Bingo, she thought as envy (predictably) flared up in his dark eyes. He was insanely jealous of Dexter, to a point of mania that actually hampered his own creative ability. He had been almost inconsolable until he found out he had a Fusion of his own running around wrecking havoc on Earth's Forces. With this particular incident his covetousness had only grown and he'd been tormenting himself with endless questions and scenarios – wasn't he worth kidnapping? Torturing? Mind-probing? He would have gladly endured worse than Dexter had (or so he believed) just to prove his merit in the eyes of their common enemy and his rival.

"DeeDee is recovering, too -"

"DeeDee? My DeeDee?" He was on his feet in a shot, alarmed and concerned for the love of his life. "What happened? Has she been hurt? Tell me!"

"You didn't hear?" Mandy wondered, feigning surprise and concern. It was time to play a trump card. "The Fusion kidnapped her to control Dexter."

He barely paid attention, too busy pacing and monologuing.

"Oh, my poor, brave, gloriously beautiful DeeDee! What you must have suffered and endured at the vile and unclean touch of those Fusion Mechs! Curses upon those alien beings for causing you a moment of fear! Oh, how I envy and despise them for the heaven of having your splendid self for days on end! Oh, to be the Mech that laid hold of you and -"

He broke off, abruptly remembering he had an audience, but Mandy didn't as much as blink. She didn't dare. She wanted something from him and so she bit her tongue.

"Excuse me."

With a swirl of his cape, Mandark turned his back on her and activated a communicator on his wrist. Mandy caught snatches of his hurried conversation.

"Twenty . . . no, thirty dozen . . . pink. From me, of course! Yes, with love. And devotion! Within the hour. Wait."

He looked at Mandy and demanded, "Is DeeDee home or here in DexLab medical?"

"Here," she replied, steeling her features not to smirk. "She'll probably stay until Dexter is released."

"DexLab HQ, then," he ordered, turning his back on her again and talking to his secretary. "Make it snappy."

Roses ordered, he adjusted his cape, wrapped himself in his dignity once again, and turned to face Mandy. As if nothing had happened, he strode back to his chair and sat down.

"She'd probably appreciate a visit," hinted Mandy.

He tensed, and given the chance she knew he would have bolted out of the office and raced straight to the medical ward.

"But first, we have a problem. I was hoping you'd be able to help us out."

The request did not roll off her tongue very easily. She was used to giving orders, not asking for things. Fortunately the effort it cost her was lost on Mandark.

Totally distracted, his mind going at warp speed formulating touching and romantic bedside scenes of DeeDee waking up in surprise and delight at his dashing presence and declaring her undying love for him, Mandark would have agreed to anything. Mandy, knowing full well that she was exploiting his foremost weakness, kept talking, kept exploiting, and dropped and excluded names without a hint of shame.

"Part of this incident with DeeDee being kidnapped involves an Imaginary Friend named Bloo. He betrayed DeeDee to the Fusion Dexter. We've got him prisoner, but we don't want DeeDee to come here and feel uncomfortable knowing he's here, in the same building."

"What about the DexCorp facilities?" he managed to ask, mentally pulling himself out of DeeDee's passionate embrace for a moment. With a little shake of his head he got back to the business of being an evil genius.

"No detention center. The only one we've got is here in DexLab HQ. See our dilemma? Doesn't make for a real homey atmosphere."

"An Imaginary Friend. Hmm . . ." This was something he might be able to use.

"We'd provide a KND security unit and cover the housing expenses, if you could hold the prisoner in Mandark Industries business park. You've got a detention center in your security department."

"I do," he said, thinking hard and fast. "I don't want the KND in there. I have my own security force. They'll be more than adequate to deal with one Imaginary Friend."

She narrowed her eyes, suspicious. "We'll be checking him every shift change, then."

"I'd expect you to. What about the person that imagined him? I heard Foster's Home was Infected."

"It was. We have his friend. A kid named Mac."

"Will Mac be coming?"

She hadn't expected that, but she knew Mandark well enough that if he wanted something, she didn't want him to have it. "He'll be visiting a lot, I'm sure, but in the meantime he'll be staying here with the other refugees from Foster's."

The light glinted off of his glasses as he raised his head. "If it will please DeeDee, I'll do it."

"Good. My chief of security will contact yours. They can hammer out the details."

"So we have a deal?" he asked with a nasty smirk.

She returned the look. Neither of them was fooled for a moment by this show of civility and manners. This was the longest they'd ever managed to endure each other's presence. Neither made any attempt to shake on the bargain.

"Deal." Without looking away she keyed a button on her desk. "Mrs. Warthog, arrange for an escort to bring Mandark to medical and let DeeDee know he's on his way for a visit."

He nodded and swept out of the room. A little uneasy at the arrangement, Mandy sank back in her chair, staring off into middle space. She didn't like that Bloo would be held elsewhere, but Tennyson was right. Dexter's peace of mind was a lot more important than keeping the miserable little traitor under her thumb, much as she despised being in debt to Mandark. Dexter might be tough and stubborn and possessed of an intellect far beyond his years, but he was not unbreakable. He was going to have a hard enough time coming to terms with what happened to his laboratory. He didn't need to be worried about Bloo's presence in the facility he had built himself, for himself.

She thought about calling and warning Mandark to avoid trying to gloat over Dexter, but then she didn't want to deny the guards stationed outside Dexter's room the opportunity to shoot the obnoxious twit if he tried. It was a tough decision, one of many she'd made today, and in the end she did nothing. Mandark could learn his own lessons. If he wasn't smart enough to give Dexter a wide berth, he deserved everything he got.