Hired Gun Pt. 06

"You know, for all your abrasiveness and crassness, I see a noble man underneath all the bravado. I might not agree with your methods, but I understand your motivation. You want to give that stone to the furvoids so they can cure their terrible cysteria disease. That's noble, but does it belong just to them? Shouldn't it be shared with all races?"

"Why don't you have that conversation with Catelli? He'll sell the damned thing to the highest bidder. So don't lecture me on morality."

"There might be a third option."

"Which is?"

"You and I...we get the stone, we give it to the Interplanetary Government, and they dole out the stone as it's needed. The furvoids cure their disease, humans rid their illnesses, and it's set up fairly."

"You're good. Hot damn you're good. You know, for a brief second there, I was almost convinced you meant what you said. If they can't beat the information out of you, send a pretty lady to schmooze it out. Damn good effort!"

"Don't be an idiot, Troy."

"They taught us as pilots how to deal with torture. It was a very real possibility; you get shot down and captured, you might hold some vital intelligence the enemy needed. So they sent us through survival school, and a lesson on it was enduring torture. We experienced the real deal, day in day out, no food, little water, cruel guards. It felt real, it was real. I was one of only seven candidates who passed the final stages. You know, they prepare you for any type of physical punishment, but they don't tell you how to deal with kindness."

"So you think I'm trying to interrogate you?'

"From the moment I woke up."

"Troy, listen to me. Listen to me very carefully. I can't stop them. I don't have the power to stop them. I don't want them to scramble you."

"Scramble?"

"Put simply; brain drugs. They'll inject you with chemicals which will get you to speak the truth to any questions they ask. You can't lie. I don't care what training you have, what willpower you think you have, none of it matters. Thing is, they put this in you, it's bad news for your brain. Bad news."

"And I suppose you're my guardian angel, and you'll stop them from doing that if I just spill the beans."

"Troy," Liz said, stroking her finger up and down his chest, "I think you're cute. I don't want to see you turned into a vegetable. You've done your best. No one would call you a failure after what you've been through. Just...give us the information."

"Well sugar, turn on the frying pan, because the only way you'll get the information out of me is by this so called scrambling."

"Troy...don't...be foolish."

"You saw what they did to me. You saw what I was willing to go through. I'm willing to die to keep this information secret. So drug away, you'll just be disappointed all over again."

"Troy, I'm giving you one last chance. There's no shame in surrender."

"Fuck off."

"Very well. This first injection is called 'The Fear.' It's not a permanent affect, but for a little while, you'll be afraid of your own shadow. The next one is called 'Snake Charmer.' That one will screw your brain up. You'll be open to any suggestions. If I tell you there's a pink gorilla with a baseball bat in the room, that's what you'll see. The third and final is called 'Veritas.' It's Latin for truth. You won't be able to lie. And in order to make the monsters go away, you'll tell me what you know. Any last words while you still have your sanity?"

"Just three: go to hell."

"Very well."

Dr. O'Shea injected The Fear into his neck. Almost instantly, a feeling of dread overwhelmed Troy. He looked at Dr. O'Shea and she looked like she was thirty feet tall and had fangs coming out of her lips. Liz looked down at her terrified patient and smiled warmly, but to Troy, it looked as if a great white shark was bearing its teeth at him and he screamed in abject terror.

"Time for your next stage," she said. Just as she was about to grab the second drug, a loud boom rattled the room.

"What was that?" O'Shea asked out loud.

"It's the monsters!" Troy said in a raspy voice.