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“It’s the age-old struggle: the roar of the crowd on the one side, and the voice of your conscience on the other.”
-Douglas MacArthur
He found the good doctor sitting in the common room on the small couch. The worn fabric on the cushions looked to be about four decades old, its fraying edges seeming terribly appropriate next to Ross’s haggard figure. The clean outfit they had provided looked disheveled enough, but it was the rest of him that was the real cause for concern.
His foot was tapping against the floor, and his face had descended into a broad frown. He could tell from the waves emanating off of him that he was angry, but something else as well. He seemed agitated in a way that had little to do with his obvious fury.
Was there something else going on, Graph wondered. Or had his staff gotten to him worse than he expected?
He eyed the man standing outside the door, the lone grunt with an assault rifle slung over one shoulder. He straightened up considerably when he noticed Graph entering the hallway, the mere sight of his silver leaves putting an iron bar up his back. He snapped a salute too when Graph neared.
“At ease, soldier,” Graph ordered, snapping a casual one back. “In fact, why not take five? He’s not going anywhere.”
The Private eyed Ross tentatively and then nodded. He waited until they were truly alone before addressing the doctor.
“Something on your mind, doctor? You look like a man weighed down.”
Ross looked to him and feigned a false smile. He could tell from the glint in his eyes what the other thing bestirring him was now. He managed to conceal it as best he could, keeping his tone civil and even.
“I’m concerned is all. My staff don’t seem to want to listen to reason.”
“Well, that’s to be expected,” Graph said, coming to the couch and taking a seat on the arm. “People don’t like to let go of comfortable delusions. And change is never easy.”
“But… they’re being fools,” Ross said, not entirely without commitment. “You’re offering a chance out of here. Why would they reject that?”
Graph shrugged. “Given time, people can learn to depend upon a prison, even hug their chains.” He looked off sideways, his brow furrowing. “Can’t remember who said that. Somebody wise, I’m sure.”
Ross chuckled nervously. “Still… I think I might be able to persuade them. If only they can see that they’re not being lied to.”
Graph looked back at Ross and smiled. Was that a questing tone he heard in his voice. He didn’t need to ask, as he was sure the Doc would indicate exactly what he wanted to see.
“Ah… first, I wonder if you could let me get back into my lab. There are some materials in there that I would like to go over with my staff. Perhaps a little trip down memory lane.”
Graph frowned. He wasn’t anticipating that. Worse, it was not something he was in a position to oblige. Not yet anyway.
“Well I’m afraid the lab is still being processed,” he said. “The Colonel’s men are pouring over it, hoping to find some clue as to what happened to that specimen you were working on.”
“You mean Mance Harmonn?” Ross asked. “I told you, I don’t know where it is. The Mage said it was being taken away.“
“Yes, but the Colonel wants to make sure we haven’t left any stone unturned.”
Graph noted his disappointment. He took a second to regroup, and then moved on to his next request. Graph could tell before a word was uttered that this one was the more delicate of the two.
“Well, they also seem to have it in their heads that their associate was murdered. I know that they only think this because they haven’t seen him since they were taken into custody, it’s ridiculous really.” Ross smiled as he said it, but there was no trace that it considered it so. “If they could see that he is still alive, it would certainly help to establish trust.”
There it is, Graph thought. The path was suddenly becoming clear, and he knew now why Ross had asked to get into the lab first. It wasn’t the research he was looking for, but evidence of the crime. He felt himself slowly being backed into a corner, not a place he enjoyed being in.
“That too is going to be difficult, doctor,” he said calmly. “Your assistant took a rather serious beating from our men. That was certainly not my intent, but special forces types tend to be a little quick to temper. Especially when someone tries to hit them with a fire extinguisher.”
Ross’s eyes brightened. Some of what he was telling him was meshing with what he’d already been told. A new vibe was radiating from him now, one of cautious optimism.
“So… he is alive then?”
“You already suspected your colleagues were just assuming the worst, yes? Does it surprise you to hear it from my lips?”
Ross stopped short, suddenly confused. He fumbled for a second for words and then shook his head. “No… no, of course not.”
“Ah, then it really isn’t necessary to see him in order to confirm it, is it?”
Ross considered that. He was smiling, but barely managed to conceal the look of suspicion he once again was wearing.
“I do not ask for myself, Colonel, but for my staff’s sake. If I could say I saw him with own two eyes, it would go a long way towards convincing them you are being… ingenious.”
Graph nodded. An interesting choice of words.
“I could always say I did, but I would suspect they’d know if I was lying.”
Graph took a second to ponder that. He knew he could do the Doc one better.
“Perhaps you’d like to see General Thur as well?”
Ross’s eyes widened by a few degrees. “He’s alive?”
“And resting,” Graph confirmed. “We’ve moved all the wounded into a single medical tent outside. I’m sure you colleagues would love to know their superior wasn’t arbitrarily murdered.”
“Yes!” Ross said anxiously. “I mean… yes, that would help.”
“Well, alright then.” Graph smiled and got to his feet. He extended an open hand to Ross. “Shall we take a walk then?”
Ross looked at his hand warily but accepted it. As soon as he was on his feet, Graph let him take the lead and stepped in behind him. They were almost to the door when Ross stopped suddenly and turned back.
“What -” he stopped, cleared his throat. “If you don’t mind my asking. What’s to become of him?”
“The Major General?” Graph clarified. Ross nodded. “He’ll be flown back to the capitol to stand trial. For a man of his rank and given the nature of his crime, only a supreme military tribunal will be sufficient to judge him.”
“Will he die?”
How touching, Graph thought. After all was said and done, the good doctor seemed to care about the man who he felt had tormented and under appreciated him. Was this perhaps a mark of his true feelings, or just a desperate cry for some last-minute assurances?
“It’s possible his peers will sentence him to death,” he replied. “The penalty for treason is death. But if Thur is willing to throw himself on the mercy of the court, or demonstrate that his actions were the result of extenuating circumstances, anything is possible. He may just spend the rest of his career in a military prison. Or at least until this war is over.”
Ross didn’t appear entirely comfortable with that answer. But he gave one final nod of acceptance and came about. They proceeded to the door again, and Ross even managed to get it open before it befell him.
He emitted a loud, choking noise. His neck flexed and tensed as he struggled to draw air. Graph had seen it a hundred times before, and knew exactly how much pressure to apply.
“Just relax, doctor. It will be over in a second.”
Ross’s arms flailed and his feet kicked. They always seemed to become especially desperate towards the end, when so little was left and every second counted. Before long, his fighting stopped and he began to go limp. His body became especially heavy then, and Graph slowly guided it to the floor.
He finished laying Ross down flat on the linoleum tile when he heard some boots coming up quickly. Graph looked up to see the grunt returning, his weapon aimed forward and his eyes wide and fixed on the Doc’s body.
“Sir, what happened?”
“Nothing to worry about, Private. Our friend here was just making some impossible requests and had to be put under.”
“Is he alive, sir?”
“Of course he is.” Graph checked his pulse and breathing just to confirm. It was always possible that in the course of administering a simple lock, one could overdue it and cause permanent damage. But Ross appeared to be out cold and breathing steadily, his pulse slow and regular.
“I will have to ask you to do one thing,” he said, looking back at the Private. “I need you to head into the med tent and fetch me some Etomidate or Midazolam from the medical tent. Can you do that now please?”
The soldier stood there, looking dumfounded.
“A sedative, Private. Just ask the attending physician for a sedative and tell him I sent you. A single vial will do.”
The Private eventually slung his weapon and snapped out a hurried salute, then came about and proceeded to run down the hallway towards the exit. Graph was left alone with the unconscious doctor for a good few minutes, during which time he allowed himself to finally be completely honest with him.
“I wish things had gone differently, doctor, I truly do. But don’t worry. You’ll still get to be a hero. And perhaps after working for our people, you’ll finally come to appreciate the man who kept you here all these years.”
Ross stirred a little, but remained under.
“Yes, I’m sure you’ll appreciate the irony of that as well.”
Image may be NSFW.
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Image may be NSFW.Clik here to view.
