The Interrogation
Earth - South Africa - 2013, Monday
The Cast
Sonia, Rob/Kean, Mandy, Jon, Sam, Grace
Sonia paced up and down, waiting in sweet anticipation for her four captives to awaken.
She was in the conference room of a small motel with her four prisoners tied to chairs, in a circle, facing each other. The epidermis that was once Samantha Smith lay in one corner of the room, the scanner hovering above it. No one else in the establishment would disturb them, not now. She had all night.
The situation was a little annoying—having been found out this close to the arrival of the Trun cruiser. Not that she was concerned about the four in front of her. She would kill them and make up a story to gloss over it. She knew where the Vercetian princess was—well approximately—and that would be sufficient for the Trun. No, it would be annoying when Birjjikk found out. Three times now she had been exposed on planetary surveillance postings, and her Player would regard that as extremely sloppy. Some retribution would be forthcoming, of that she was quite sure. Why am I always the one? she thought. She had never quite fitted in with Birjjikk and the other two. Her antics at the Cadre leadership battle between Birjjikk and Graffojj hadn’t helped. She was realistic enough to realise that she had only got into Birjjikk’s Cadre because she was the only one left alive. Carffekk, Henkk and, of course, Birjjikk were the nucleus of the team, but rules were rules and the Cadre needed four and all from a single academy.
Kean was wakening. Years of suffering this Turdgutter. No wonder I needed to get out and kill. The humans were exquisite—fear in abundance. I will kill him last, she thought, he’ll suffer the longest. She slapped him hard across the face. He reacted aggressively, but without direction, still being under the influence of the drug.
She stretched, so glad to have shed the human epidermis. She couldn’t switch it on and off like the Preenasettians, her physiology was just too different. It took her about twenty minutes to change to a human or Trun. Phase shift manipulation and epidermis encasement weren’t quick processes, but the result was superior.
Kean was awake now. His eyes were focussing slowly, trying to make out the being in front of him. She smiled at him, her sharp teeth turning it into a sneer. ‘You are awake, Kean?’ She studied his face.
‘Who are you? What are you?’ His words formed slowly.
‘Don’t you remember me? You’ve been working with me for the last four years.’ She was enjoying his look of confusion. ‘I’m Sonia.’
‘But, you’re...’
‘Not a Trun? No, I’m a Zerot.’ She strolled over to him and slapped him hard again; this time Kean yelped and tried to pull out of his restraints. Sonia enjoyed his defiance. It would change soon enough.
He composed himself. ‘So what do you want with us? Why have you kept up this charade for so long?’
‘Be patient.’ She leant in, their faces now almost touching. Her orange coloured eyes were more intimidating than her sharp pointed teeth. ‘For now, all you need to know is that by the morning, you and your friends shall be dead. And your precious planet Preenasette will soon be just a memory. Let’s wake your Earth friends. I want to play.’
Amanda’s drug-induced dream world began dissipating. In its place, unintelligible conversations, cries of anguish and the blurred impression of something moving. As her vision returned she became aware of a strange creature.
It was unlike anything she had ever seen or imagined. The creature’s mottled grey skin made it look old. Amanda’s first impression was that this being was ancient. Its posture, however, belied the idea of old age, tall with an arrogant strut that oozed confidence. Its face was skeletally thin, with a small mouth housing savage, needle sharp teeth. Its ears were long and thin, pointing sharply, nearly backwards. She couldn’t begin to describe its eyes, evil and hate emanated from them. The most striking part of this alien’s appearance was the fleshy-looking horns protruding from its body. Six from its hairless scalp, three from each shoulder and a row following the vertebrae of its backbone. Two of the scalp horns were much longer, sweeping back and down to its shoulders.
It was concentrating on the three men. She could see blood oozing from wounds on Jon and Sam’s faces, and Rob, who was now in his true Trun form, was bruised and swollen. Her shins were tightly bound to the legs of a wooden chair, her wrists secured to the arms. They were in a circle, and the creature’s back was to her.
Amanda closed her eyes and feigned unconsciousness, wanting more time to understand what was happening here. The creature was apparently bragging to the others.
‘...nearly two hundred and fifty years old using your measurements, but I haven’t reached halfway into my lifespan. We spend an extended part of our life in estivation—a form of hibernation in a hot environment—usually, after we have annihilated a planet and its inhabitants, and we’re feeling satiated.’
Amanda heard a loud crunching sound—bone—followed by a scream. ‘You ask me questions, hoping to delay the pain, and then you don’t listen to me, Kean. Perhaps that will focus your attention.’ The creature laughed, a guttural sound from deep in its throat, though it couldn’t be remotely related to amusement. ‘I’ll continue. Please pay attention. In the infancy of our space travel, we stumbled upon a race called the Rammor. A highly advanced civilisation, close to ascendency, so the story goes—that’s moving to a higher plane of existence to you, some races seek this—and they took us under their wings. Pets, they thought of us. But after two hundred years of being their little helper pets, we had become indispensable to them, looking after the technology that looked after them. We had stolen, analysed and learnt to use much of their advanced technology. Wait. Is someone pretending here?’
Amanda kept perfectly still until a sudden pain in her shoulder her made her jump— eyes wide open. She was looking straight into the creature’s face. She could see from the corner of her eye that the pain she was feeling was its fingernails—no, talons—slowly digging into her skin. The pain was increasing. She grimaced, trying to hold back from screaming.
‘Get your filthy fricking hands off her!’ Jon was struggling so hard to free himself from his bindings that his chair toppled over.
The creature dropped her and went to Jon. It grabbed him by his hair and effortlessly pulled him upright. Jon was clearly in pain, but his face showed nothing but rage and anger. She sneered at him, ‘If you interrupt me again, I shall cut her head off right before your eyes.’ She turned back to Amanda.
‘The lovely young Earth girl was trying to deceive the beautiful and clever Zerot girl, eh?’ She moved behind Mandy and rested three of her fingers high on her cheekbone, talons slowly digging into her skin, little rivulets of blood forming. She was looking straight into Jon’s eyes as she slowly moved her hand down Amanda’s face, challenging him to utter a word. Jon’s eyes were flicking from her to the Zerot creature. Terror and rage in equal measures. As the three bloody tramlines formed on Mandy’s cheek, she did everything in her power to keep from screaming. She was on the point of passing out when the Zerot stopped.
‘Good,’ she said. ‘Now where was I? Ah yes. And with their technology, we made a plan that ended with the death of every single Rammorian. We spent the next forty years stripping their planet of everything of value and taking back to Zerot. So, there you have it. Ten thousand years later and we’re still doing it. But it’s a game now, and Preenasette is next.’ She walked back to Jon and stroked his cheek, gently this time, then strolled out of the room. ‘I won’t be long. Don’t go anywhere,’ she called back casually.
Amanda fought through the pain of her throbbing cheek and focussed on Jon. He was staring straight back at her. ‘Are you all right, Mandy?’ The blood and bruising on his face didn’t hide his concern. She nodded at him. ‘I’m okay.’ His concern immediately changed to anger and he challenged Rob, ‘So, was this your great master plan? To befriend me, Rob, Kean? Or whatever your name is. Some plan.’
‘I’m sorry, Jon, I was just doing my job. We were just supposed to locate the Princess and wait for my father to arrive. He would capture her and take her back to our planet.’ Kean’s voice had taken on the broken English accent that Grace had when she wasn’t wearing a brooch.
‘And you didn’t suspect you were partnering Madame Death and Destruction there?’ said Jon.
‘We need to address our situation here,’ Kean said.
‘Can anyone move?’ Sam joined in. ‘I can’t even move a muscle.’
‘Don’t bother trying,’ Kean replied. ‘Kayson rope. You need a sharp knife to cut through it.’
We’re getting nowhere, thought Amanda. “Grace, where are you? Can you hear me? Please.” A desperate cry for help, but Grace was halfway around the world. The furthest they’d ever managed to communicate this way was about a mile.
“Mandy. I hear you. Are you okay?” Grace was in her head.
“Oh, Grace, the creature is torturing us.”
“Who? The Trun?”
“No, another creature. A Zerot. Rob is in his natural form. She’s giving him special attention. His arm is broken, and his face is messed up.”
“We’re not far away. I think I’ve pinpointed you now. William and a small armed force will be with you in a few minutes.”
“Hurry, Grace. Please. And be careful. This creature can get in your head.”
“I will.”
The men were still bickering. ‘Jon, listen to me.’ She got their attention. She tried to whisper. ‘Grace, William and some others are outside, only minutes away. We’ve got to keep this creature distracted, to give them a chance to get in and surprise her.’
‘Are you talking to Grace?’ Jon asked.
‘I was. Not anymore. The Zerot can hear your thoughts, I think. She knew I was awake, but pretending to be unconscious. Concentrate your minds on each other. Rob, how is your arm?’ She could see he was in a bad way.
‘Hurts like hell, but thank you for asking.’
Jon looked questioningly at Mandy, but he didn’t comment. In the midst of this horror show he was somehow pleased that she could still infuriate him.
‘If we ever get out of this I’ve got one hell of a story for Cycling Weekly.’ Sam, the eldest of them, attempted a wry laugh. And for a brief moment the four of them, though bruised and battered, smiled with him.
Then the Zerot walked back in.