Chapter Forty-Seven
Nine studied the door to Allison Caldwell's room before turning down the hallway. Allison pulled the doorknob, but it wasn't the wild, desperate yanking he had expected. No, it was a tamer testing, accompanied by curious, mildly concerned questions. No light shone in the room. He had taken careful pains to make sure even the computers and cameras wouldn't provide the slightest glimmer of light. And yet, the occupant of that room remained calm in absolute darkness.
Shaking his head, Nine dismissed Allison as a decoy and ran through the list of recent recruits. Questions nagged his thoughts. Why use a decoy when he might have never known? Did they want him to suspect that Seven was here? Did he just tip his hand by making such an obvious test? A shiver shot through his gelatinous flesh, and an eye darted towards Allison's door as he turned a corner.
Wandering through the hallways, Nine considered his questions. Ghetsis had information on him, sure, but how could Giovanni have known his wherabouts? The only time he had revealed his identity was to the police.
His thoughts snapped back to that meeting, and those present. Commissioner Mason, Officer Peter, and three Lucario – the latter had no reason to help Team Rocket, and Peter had plenty of reason to hate the Rockets. If Gregory was a Rocket mole, it would certainly explain the police bungling at Stonebough.
The thought drew a drooping frown on his face. It's entirely possible the police could stab him in the back if that were the case, and all they'd need for an excuse is the illegal use of an EMP.
His hand reached into a pocket and closed around some lint. Poking around, he found that his keycard for the elevator was missing. He remembered grabbing it, but his agitation made him think he could have forgotten it.
Striding quickly, he returned to his room and found the keycard on his desk. With a sigh of relief, he pocketed it and decided to pay the labs a visit. If one of the subjects – no, volunteers recovered, he could end this farce.
When he arrived at the elevator, a set of guards fresh on the shift parted and bowed. With a swipe, he was descending. Thoughts gnawed at his mind, and he ground his teeth. The flesh on his chest bubbled like boiling tar, and the illusion under his robes dispersed. With some measured breaths, he hardened his flesh and rebuilt the image behind the mask. Layers put a safety net beneath a careless slip.
The R&D Director approached him the moment the doors opened. He hastily bowed and asked, "Back so soon, sir?"
Nine stiffened. Reflex almost made him say he hadn't been down, but he strangled the words in his throat. Instead, he said, "There is little that requires my attention above."
The director nodded. "Would you like to speak with Bruno, sir? He just had his afternoon meal."
Nine nodded. "I have some new questions. Perhaps this time, I will learn something of use."
"Very well, I'll have everything prepared."
A minute later, Nine walked through the thick metal doors, crossed the empty floor, and stopped in front of Bruno's cage. Plasma crackled, and the floor vibrated beneath his feet. Bruno sat in front of an empty plate and stared blankly at a computer screen.
"Are you having a pleasant day?" he asked.
Bruno's eyes slid up to meet his. He shrugged and asked, "Yours?"
"Quite vexing, actually. I have quite a few problems on my mind right now, one of which is that Seven somehow got down here."
Bruno flinched, and his eyes widened. A grin spread across his face, and his eyes shone in the plasma. Nine noted with satisfaction that the surprise was unfeigned.
"Here in this room?"
Nine chuckled. "You'd know better than I."
Bruno's smile wavered, but he bounced in his seat. "You'll never catch her. She slipped past a whole prison guard at Stonebough, and she's slipped past your security too."
"I wonder about that," Nine said. "The Stonebough incident strikes me as odd. Why did the police activate the flooding system? They had the firepower to take them head-on at the gate. Instead, they sealed the prisoners in and gave them the perfect cover for their escape."
"Police officers would have died stopping the breakout," Bruno answered, "And there's no guarantee that they could stop them."
Nine shrugged. "I suppose there's no real proof there. I'm more interested in how Team Rocket figured out that I know about the Mirage Project."
Bruno opened his mouth, but Nine talked over him. "There are only four groups of people who know about the Mirage Project. Ghetsis is dead. Team Rocket has the files from his public computers, but I doubt any but Admins have access. The Sages could only be more tight-lipped about their military secrets if they had their mouths sewn shut. And last, there's me and the few police officers I told in utmost secrecy. Now, unless they thought a traitor or a Sage leads the White Knights, they have to know I was involved, and the only five living beings that know my secret are Commissioner Mason, Officer Peter, Elder Bayron, and two other Lucario."
Bruno flinched at mention of Peter and scowled for the Lucario. Nine studied him for a moment and said, "The Lucario have no love for Team Rocket and its Pokémon as tools agenda, no other police officer knows of the meeting, and the room was checked for bugs and psychic tampering. That leaves two options."
Bruno's hackles rose, but he stayed silent. Nine said, "Peter has too little influence, which leaves the Commissioner as the most probable mole. Do you disagree?"
The Lucario frowned for a moment. "How do you know they know about you?"
"They left a trap, a single hair, pointing at a single person. To test the theory, I turned out the lights, and nothing happened."
"If they already knew about you, why lay the trap?"
Nine sighed and took a step back. "I'm missing too many pieces. Nothing fits. No scenario I can think of explains their behavior. Their motive is clear, they want me gone, but all their actions at this point don't represent a clear plan. Do they simply wish to keep me on edge? Are they trying to screen their real intent?"
Bruno closed the laptop. He walked up to the edge of the plasma and asked, "What are you trying to do?"
"In the long run? Make a world where everyone is treated equally. But for now, I'll settle for getting Team Rocket out of the picture." Nine studied Bruno's cold, distant expression before saying, "Enjoy the rest of your day. I have much to think about."
On his way back up, he asked his R&D Director for a copy of the security footage for the floor. Back in his own office, he began the arduous task of studying hours of footage sped up fifty times until he caught flashes of his own image. He followed Seven as she meandered through the underground, poking her head into storage closets and treatment wards. When she approached Bruno's door, she stiffened and glanced at it out of the corner of her eye.
Nine suspected she had known what lay beyond that door, but through that plasma, she shouldn't be able to sense anything. He hadn't. But then again, he had felt an odd pressure in the area from time to time. He made a note to have the plasma barrier inspected.
On the upper levels, a study of the hallway by Allison Caldwell yielded fast results. Of the handful of times other people left their rooms, one room had been left twice, with no one coming in. The person's route through the compound led straight to his office.
Cross-referencing the room with identity and attendance records revealed no anomalies in his recent behavior. After considering alternatives, such as a doppelganger using the room, he concluded it was another decoy. But then, why have two decoys? Was she testing him?
The footage of his room made him smile. He saw clear evidence of the illusion that had made him forget his card, when it vanished and a fuzzy duplicate appeared next to it. Yet, after two minutes, the original card reappeared, as if it had never been taken. Questions flew across his mind, a jumble of hows and whys. With a growl, he scattered the questions and returned his attention to the footage in the hallway. Seven paused outside his door for ten seconds and moved on. Sure, she could make an illusion of the card that could fool the guards, but it wouldn't get past the card reader.
Nine's rumination was interrupted by a phone call. A glance at the ID told him it was his Chief of Security. He cleared his throat to lessen the weary croak in his voice and said, "Do you have anything to report?"
"Yes sir, I have excellent news! Remember that convoy that we were tipped off about? Admin Colson was overseeing it personally. We have captured him and his whole team alive."
The swarm of thoughts returned, each one passing in an unintelligible blur. Gripping a desk drawer, Nine took deep breaths until his heart steadied and asked, "What have you done with them?"
"They are imprisoned in plasma cells in the northern sector. We have a Koffing on standby if you wish to have them killed."
The clamor of thoughts broke his illusion. Blobby pink flesh oozed onto his desk, and he sagged into his chair. All the while, his brain processed plan after possible plan revolving around Admin Colson's presence. Another decoy, a conduit for Seven's orders, a saboteur, nothing quite fit with Seven's current behavior. Killing him would put an end to whatever plans Seven currently had, at the cost of his one potential source of information.
"You are to keep this between us," Nine said. "But we are currently facing some serious issues in your security." The man took a sharp breath, and Nine hastily added, "Nothing that I hold you accountable for. These are errors on my part."
Even through the phone, Nine could sense the man picking his words as if he were treading on thin, cracking ice. "What kind of issues?"
"There is a mole among the White Knights, one capable of creating illusions. I fell for one of their decoys. I don't know who or where they are, or what their plan is, but I am certain they will attempt to contact or free Admin Colson."
"Should we kill them all?" he asked.
"Kill the other Rockets, but leave the Admin. Tighten security around him, and put Mr. H on his guard. Also, I will not be visiting his cell. If I approach, detain me immediately. Is that understood?"
"Y-yes sir," the man stammered. "But, should I tell the guards on duty? Word would spread if they got orders like that."
Nine grimaced. "Just tell Mr. H. He'll handle it."
He hung up and went back to the security footage, with thoughts swirling in his head like volcanic ash.
Changelog
12/25/18 – minor edits