"The Benevolent Doctor"

18. Benedict's Volunteers

Sometime in New New York

Things were not going too well so far. While Martha kept an eye on Alfred upstairs, downstairs the Brannigans had done what the Doctor needed them to do and they had gathered any number of Doctor Benedict's former subjects, so that they might ask the questions they needed to ask. As they came, the Doctor had observed them quietly, saw how some of them showed definite signs of having had something done to them, while others could have fooled anyone to think they were untouched by any experiment. They may not have known exactly what the reason was for their summoning at first, but the more of them piled into the Brannigan home, the more evident it became. And then it had all started turning sour.

As surprised as they might have been for the support Valerie and her husband gave to the doctor before they knew the truth, it was just that much more expected once they had it come from the others. Even as the Doctor explained that Benedict was using them, that he had kidnapped some of them, they looked ready to riot. They would not accept that the man who had helped their city years ago, the man they had submitted themselves to, for the betterment of people both near and far from them, was not who he claimed to be. Some of them looked to Valerie and Brannigan in shock that they would dare bring them before a lunatic, while others looked ready to leave. They had not said a word about Alfred and how he had been found, what had been done to him.

Then Martha came dashing down the stairs.

"Doctor!" she shouted, and his efforts to silence the small crowd had been thrown aside. He hurried to meet her, as did the parents, the four cat children, and Santana.

"Is it Alfred?" Valerie asked.

"Is he worse?" Brannigan followed. Martha shook her head.

"Not worse, I don't know how good, but he's awake, Doctor," she turned to him. "He's completely coherent, he can talk and tell us what happened." The Brannigans were overjoyed. In the other room, some of their gathered crowd was looking their way, clearly wondering what was happening.

"Yes. Yes, he can tell us," the Doctor nodded. "Brannigan, if he's up to the task, will you bring him here? I think they all need to hear what he has to say."

Alfred had not wanted to come at first. He had seen what he looked like, and he didn't want people to point at him or laugh. What had convinced him was the realization that his sister and Brittany were still missing. If he could help bring them back, then he would find courage somewhere, and he would talk. His father helped him down. He could probably have walked on his own, at the worst he could have held to the wall, but his father was so concerned for him that he insisted to help, and Alfred did not refuse.

There had been an audible rush of gasps and murmurs as the boy came in, halfway a cat, halfway a human boy. It was not an even split by far. He looked rough, wrong. He looked like a mistake, which was what he'd been to the doctor who had been ready to toss him aside.

"Tell us what happened, Alfred?" the Doctor asked, his voice soft and encouraging. He held the boy's hand, so he might see that he wasn't afraid of or disgusted by his appearance.

So he began. He told them about being in the General Twenty-Four, where they had been accosted by a guard, who'd looked suspicious enough that they chose to run, and then the next thing he knew, everything had gone dark. He went on to describe their waking up in their cell, how they had no idea where they were but soon found they weren't alone. He described as best he could the people who had been there in the other cells. The man from the library with the strange eyes, the forgetful woman, the old girl, and the man with the misshapen head… There were others, too, but those were the ones who'd spoken, the ones he remembered. He pointed to his neck to show how they'd learned of their sampling, then explained how someone had come to give them an injection in the arm. Then came the moment where everything went wrong.

"We were all feeling strange, before we went to sleep. We only thought… with everything that happened before," he explained, his finger absently prodding at a bare spot of flesh on his arm. "But I woke up again, I was too warm. I didn't want to wake the girls, didn't want to make trouble. I tried to get closer to a window, something… But there were no windows. Then they came, the people with the needles. They said nothing, took me from the others. I tried to resist, but I couldn't, everything was blurry, couldn't feel my legs…" Valerie looked like she wanted to go and hug him, take him away from this, but she had to stay, had to let him finish. Everyone was listening. "Don't remember much after that… Only I saw a door, the last thing I really remember before I woke up just now."

"You escaped, didn't you?" the Doctor sounded as he was both speaking to Alfred and to himself. "He can't know you're here with us, that you've talked." He turned to Martha, who turned to Santana, making sure she was still there. The girl looked more scared than ever.

"Still think that Benedict man is so great, do you?" Brannigan faced the crowd standing and sitting in his home. "See what he's done to my boy. Who knows what he's done to my daughter, to that girl's friend, to those others he's got. Can you stand there and do nothing, or will you help our friends? If there's anyone in this city deserving of your help, it's this man," he clapped his hand to the Doctor's shoulder.

There was no more argument. They would answer any and all question put to them.

TO BE CONTINUED (FRIDAY)