Coreplot: Interrogation

[simon_doctor]

It's not exactly a shove, the guards' nudge that sends him into the small room, but he stumbles a little anyway; a part of his brain automatically recognizes the slight unsteadiness as a residual effect of the knockout drug. The door hisses shut behind him, with that extra chunk that means it's locked electronically.

There's no one else in the room, and no furniture but a bare table and a single chair. The walls are blank and featureless, and he studies them for a moment, rubbing his wrists and wondering which one conceals the feed pickup.

And then, because there's nothing else to do, he sits down in the chair to wait.

Comments

[walk_ins]

"Do we look like we're laughing?"

They really don't.

[simon_doctor]

"Prisoners bound by law shall not be denied access to essential medical services --"

Simon's voice is rising angrily.

And so is he.

[walk_ins]

Two hands fall on his shoulders from behind, forcing him back in the chair.

"We're the ones with sidearms, we're the ones who give the orders, and you're the prisoner."

One is leaning forward on the table. The other is standing straight, hands clasped behind his back.

"Names."

[simon_doctor]

The firm and rational voice telling him to stay silent has decided to take the rest of the night off.

There's nothing to rein back the next fey impulse.

Cold and clipped: "Sergio Lin."

[walk_ins]

"And?"

[simon_doctor]

"He ran an installation on a world called Setebos. Would you like to hear about it?"

[walk_ins]

"No. We want more names. Then we'll go back for the details."

Two hands are still on his shoulders.

[simon_doctor]

Details. He's got plenty of details.

"Ben Mathias. Elliot Wallach. Espen Lee. Marian Smith. Jana Latham. I think you'll find those are the significant names."

[walk_ins]

"Okay."

The one leaning forward on the table looks at the one standing up.

The one standing up nods, and leaves the room.

And comes back with a tray.

On that tray is an injector.

"And now we find out just how truthful you really are."

[simon_doctor]

Simon's watching the injector.

He's meant to. He's meant to know it's coming, so the fear can start its work breaking down his resistance before the drug ever touches his bloodstream.

He knows this; still, he watches the injector.

And marshals his next set of not-technically-lies. People who've helped them: Kitty Pryde. Faith Lehane. Bernard Wrangle. Ted Brautigan. Eddie Dean.

Roland Deschain.

[walk_ins]

Left picks it up off the tray that Right is carrying. "Arm out."

The pressure that Center is exerting on Simon's shoulders is steady. Hasn't changed. Hasn't moved. Not at all.

You could write a word problem for a physics class.

If blood pressure is 130/80 mmHg, and there are a certain number of veins in the human body, and the sodium thiopental disseminates at a certain rate, and the pressure on his shoulders remains steady at 1.73 newtons, how long is it before Dr. Simon Tam either gives up and tells them everything, or gives up and screams?