Struggles

Chapter 3: Questions

Oy. I haven't had a headache like this in decades. Not since... oh yes. The tranquilizer.

I open my eyes slowly, reaching down to rub the spot on my leg where I still remember the dart puncturing. I'm quite positive it'll have a bruise for a while. I only hope that Monger remembered to tell his men to disinfect it for me. I don't even want to imagine the kinds of things that could have been in that forest.

Shaking my head, I focus on the situation at hand, taking in the room around me. It's not my cell. It's missing the little soot stains I'd managed to leave in my years there. Slowly, I push myself up, my legs still a little weak beneath me. It's a well-lit, with a rusty-looking metal table in the center, and a pair of unstable chairs. One of the walls had a two-way mirror. If I had to guess, I'd say, I'd say I was going to be questioned. There's a small twinge of hope in my chest. If they want to question me, there's a chance that they hadn't found the others.

Good.

I step up to the table, kneeling down and peering beneath it. I can't help but smirk. Very sloppy. There are little pieces of gum stuck beneath -- vile, I know, but helpful -- and there's a loose screw. Two materials to work with already. I look up at the fluorescent lights. Three. Looking back at the mirror is four.

"Don't even think about it, Dr. Cockroach."

General Monger has known me for too long. I straighten myself, turning to the mirror again. "Wouldn't dream of it, General." I take a seat on one of the chairs and it squeaks under my weight. "Is there any particular reason I've been brought here instead of my cell?"

The door snaps open and Monger steps inside, holding himself tall and proud as he always does. "You know why you're here." He knows I'm not stupid. He locks the door behind him, making his way to the other seat. "Where are the other monsters?"

I fold my hands on my lap calmly. "I couldn't tell you." And it's the truth.

He leans forward, resting on arm on the table between us. "Don't lie to me, Doctor. You're smart. You would have thought ahead."

I feel a sort of deja vu. When I was first captured, I was questioned time and time again. I am, after all, the most brilliant mind on the planet. They wanted to know what I'd made, what I was planning. They wanted to know if I was working with some other country. The simple face is, while everyone knows I'm smart, no one knows how my mind works. "That was my thinking ahead, General. If one of us are caught, we can't tell where the others will be if we don't know. We did know further planning than Maine. For all I know, the others could be on the moon."

Judging by the look on his face, Monger was considering checking the moon. He seemed to ultimately decide against it. "You know the longer this lasts, the more anxious the Government is getting?"

I sense something wrong, my antennae twitching nervously. "And?"

"They're going to take a vote soon. They're considering dropping the tranquilizers and bringing on the big boys."

My chest clenched tightly. This is General Monger we're talking about. One had to imagine a weapon that could possibly be called a 'big boy' and then double it in size to know what he's talking about. "We haven't lain a finger on a single person!" Y'know, except when we were escaping, but that was different.

"You don't need to," Monger answers simply. "People are getting restless, and they'll do anything to keep themselves out of any potential danger."

I shake my head, not sure what to say.

-

I go along quietly as I'm led to a cell. I don't recognize anything. Had they chosen a new location? It worries me. I know the others will try to rescue me at some point or another, and being somewhere else could put a serious dent in that plan. Not to mention that I'm sure Monger knows they'll come too, and he'll have weapons ready, if ordered to.

I find myself looking around the room again, searching for anything useful. The room his depressingly empty, not even consisting of toy box for me. Monger knows better.

Things are quickly spiraling downhill. I press my back to a corner, sliding down onto the ground. If they're going to take a vote soon, then 'soon', Insectosaurus, Bob, Link, and even Susan will be faced with real weapons. Yes, even Susan, I know. The moment they deem her dangerous -- and I'm sure they will. She could never sit by anymore, and I know she'll use those quantonium gloves -- they'll start firing at her as well. I feel a little sick to my stomach at the thought.

I grit my teeth, searching the room again. There has to be something, anything I can use in here.

Suddenly I find myself wishing that Susan were here to drag me off on a walk.