Brought Down

35. The Present

Garrett

The large room is as white as the rest of the ship's interior. The word 'laboratory' has lead me to expect equipment, perhaps scientists in white robes squinting at test tubes with colorful liquids. Numerous doors leading out of the room may indeed conceal those things, but the room itself contains nothing but a white hospital bed. It takes me a second to register that there's someone lying in it.

The door slides closed behind us.

Burnface walks over to the bed and puts a hand on the man's shoulder. "Mr.Willson, would you please sit down?"

The name rings strangely in my ears. It's my name. I'm Garrett Willson.

The person on the bed sits up obediently, facing us, keeping his hands on his knees. Some of the people around me gasp and cry out, mostly the older ones. The ones who remember.

I remember, too.

I walk to the bed. The rest of the room ceases to exist. It's him, for sure, only his hair is completely white now. His face is strangely blank, and unwrinkled, as if no years have passed, as if grey hair was the only mark that time has left on him.

"Father?" I say, but his face remains impassive.

"George," says Burnface, speaking slowly. "Say hello to your son Garrett."

Father's eyes travel to my face and stop there, not a shade of recognition in them.

"Hello," he says in a flat voice.

"Is he drugged or something?" I snap at Burnface. "What have you done to him?"

"Drugged? Oh, you mean you didn't know? You must forgive me, then, for breaking it to you like this." He shoots a reproachful look at Julian. "I was convinced Julian had told you. The two of you have clearly developed such a good rapport, how is that possible that he concealed such a thing from you?"

I swirl around and glare at Julian who's trying to get lost among the rest of the delegates.

"What's going on here?"

"Oh fuck, why do I have to explain this?" he says in a crying tone. "I haven't done anything wrong."

"You kept a secret from your friend," Burnface chimes in. "It's not nice to keep secrets from friends. Especially after you have disclosed all the other secrets you were supposed to keep."

"Just fucking explain this to me," I say through gritted teeth.

"All right, all right. There's no need to be mad at me." Julian points at Burnface. "It's all him, his experiments! For some time, they've been trying to master the brain surgery that would allow them to turn people into...well...puppets? The idea was that they could capture prominent rebels, operate on them, and then plant them back as agents. They would act as usual, except that they would obey our orders."

"It was a beautiful idea." Burnface turns to me. "But sadly, we couldn't quite maintain in our subjects the level of independence that would allow them to appear normal. As you can see here, the subject is obeying commands, but apart from that, he can't function on his own." His glasses conceal his expression, but there's a general air of expectation about him, as if he's waiting eagerly for my reaction.

I want to smash his head to pieces. The person he's calling a 'subject' is my father, but the traits that made him the man I remember are now gone. His humor. His bravery. The last time I saw him, he gave me a hug and said that after the negotiations, everything would change, and I would see the sun one day.

Everything has changed indeed. All his dreams and efforts were for nothing. They only brought him here and reduced him to...this.

Thompson puts his hand on my shoulder. "Garrett," he says quietly. "Keep it together, son. It's horrible, but you must not react. We've signed the agreement."

"The absolution clause," Burnface reminds.

The silence in the room is ringing. He's right. I must keep it together.

I turn away from the empty shell of a man sitting on the bed. I'm met by many eyes, some filled with intolerable pity, some mirroring the fury I feel inside. There are wet streaks on Angie's cheeks. And there's Julian, too, looking at me with horror.

Julian who knew.

"You," I say. "You never told me."

"But how?" He looks around as if seeking support, but people step away from him. "Garrett, how could I tell you something like this?"

He knew all the time. When we talked, when we kissed, he knew and never told me. And even before that...

"You knew about his experiments, and you did nothing."

"But what could I --"

"You could have slit his throat in his sleep, for fuck's sake, you selfish piece of shit!"

"In theory, he could have," Burnface remarks. "But he was too busy keeping me awake."

"But... wait," Julian looks around pleadingly. "It's not fair. He did this. You can't hate me."

Yet hate him I do, and even though I don't say anything, he reads it in my eyes.

"No." His eyes drift to Burnface, and his expression shifts from despair to anger. "You! You played it like this. You wanted for him to hate me."

"I revealed nothing but the truth." Burnface spreads his arms. "It's not my fault that the truth doesn't make you looks too good."

In a flurry of motion, Julian passes me, and his hands lock on Burnface's throat. The two stumble together and go down to the floor, as people around gasp in surprise. The next moment, the three Burnface's assistants are all over them.

"I'll do it now!" Julian shouts. "I'll do it now, you monster!"

Yet before we can intervene, they are separated, and two of the assistants hold Julian by the arms, while the third one helps Burnface to his feet. In the struggle, he's lost his glasses. With horror, I see one of his eyes bulging out unnaturally, while the other one looks like a mere dot, almost completely buried in scar tissue.

"Thank you," he says as the assistant replaces his glasses. He brushes his jacket, then turns to Julian. "My dear, when you tried to eliminate me with fire you were more successful. Perhaps you should stick to proven technics."

"Enough of this circus," says Thompson. "We're leaving."

"Absolutely," says Burnface. "Of course, our dear friend Julian will have to stay here and stand trial for breaking the treaty. Attacking me in response to my disclosing my past crimes goes against the absolution clause."

I gape at him, and so do the others. I'm still mad at Julian, but the shocked expression on his face cools me down a little. We came here together, and we can't leave him.

"He's a part of our delegation," says Thompson.

"He is, and he will be treated with the utmost respect." Burnface nods. "Yet he broke the agreement, and we can't let that slide, can we? Law is law."

"I know what you're up to," I say. "You will burn his face."

"Who? I?" He saunters over to Julian who's still held firmly by the two men, and runs a gloved finger over his cheek, despite Julian's attempts to escape his touch. "Why would I want to ruin such a pretty face? Rest assured, I will do nothing of the kind. Now, do take our prisoner someplace comfortable."

Julian shoots a terrified glance at me. My fists clench on their own accord, but Thompson's hand tightens on my shoulder, and I remain still.

"Let me escort the rest of you to your shuttle," says Burnface, and beams one of his freaky smiles at us.

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