Mr Frog paced around his new workplace, sipping from his flask. Several display screens were set into a wall above a counter covered in tools; on the opposite wall was a door leading to the floor's main hallway. To the left was another door leading to a hallway with containment cells. A large workbench, big enough for two people and a dog to lie on it comfortably, sat in the center of the room. Bright lights shone from the ceiling, shining off of the sterile white linoleum tile floor.
Mr Frog was thinking. Achieving his goal seemed like it was going to be far more difficult than he had thought -- though, of course, it was far from impossible, especially for a genius of his caliber. Getting to Joseph was going to be tricky, and even then, dealing with that madman would only be the first step. There were still his underlings and devotees; Joseph's ideals would outlive him no matter what happened to their progenitor. Still, first things first.
The primary problem at the moment was the sheer level of surveillance -- from what Mr Frog had seen on the brief tour Silena had lead him on (not terribly extensive, just important daily facilities such as the lunchroom and bathrooms) every single nook and cranny of this installation had a camera trained on it at all times -- even, to Mr Frog's mild consternation, the bathrooms and showers. If Mr Frog (or anyone else, for that matter) did anything that they weren't supposed to be doing, someone would notice immediately. It was clear to Mr Frog that further machinations would be pointless until he resolved that problem.
Mr Frog swirled the fluid around in his flask, examining the situation from every angle, trying to come up with a solution.
Silena was a possibility. While she admittedly seemed to be devoted to Joseph's cause beyond the slightest chance of conversion, she also, in Mr Frog's eyes, had the highly-useful trait of being an idiot. Not a particularly-useful idiot, admittedly, but she did appear to be one tool that was within Mr Frog's grasp at the moment.
Mr Frog continued contemplating his options for a moment, his brow creasing, before giving up. He didn't have enough information to go on. He supposed Silena may be useful in that respect, at least; he wouldn't trust that babbling moron to keep quiet about anything. If she knew anything useful, he'd find out soon enough.
Mr Frog heard footsteps behind him; he turned around, and he saw Silena walking into the room.
"The test specimens have arrived," she chimed merrily, as annoying as ever; "You'll be able to get to work right after they're secured."
Mr Frog nodded, trying his best to appear pleased with the prospect of taking the most horrific biological weapon ever created by man or demon and making them even more deadly. What actually appeared on his face was more of a twisted grimace.
Silena looked at his expression, bemused. "You okay in there?" she asked lightly.
Mr Frog blinked, then shook his head. "Yes, I'm fine," he said snappishly. Silena tilted her head, her placidly-puzzled expression not changing.
Mr Frog decided that now would be as good a time as ever to try to wrangle some information out of her. He didn't like working with people much; they were too complex to easily be put to use.
"How long have you been working here, Silena?" he asked, trying and failing to sound pleasant.
Silena's face went blank for a moment, then recomposed itself into her usual complacent smile. "I've been working with Eris as a bioengineer for about three years now," she said; "I was only transferred to this facility a few months ago, however."
Mr Frog nodded, forcing a smile. Of course she wouldn't have been here long enough to learn anything interesting; that would make her worth talking to. Still, she likely knew more than he did.
"I'd like to know more about how this facility functions. How is it managed?" asked Mr Frog; "How does it sustain itself?"
Silena nodded, smiling brightly now. "We get weekly shipments of food and drink from willing suppliers wishing to further the cause -- Joseph does the negotiations, so we get it at a discount," she bubbled; her eyes sparkled as she mentioned Joseph's name. Mr Frog nodded, now paying full attention. Supply lines. A vulnerable point that could be exploited.
"Our waste is handled by automated droids," continued Silena; "I'm sure you've seen them milling around. Aren't they cute? I'm thinking of getting someone to fix up one of the junked ones and keeping it as a pet."
Mr Frog decided that this particular train wasn't going anywhere he needed to be. "What about management?" he asked, trying to get back on the rails; "Who gives the orders?"
Silena beamed; Mr Frog had a fairly good idea as to what she was going to say next. "Why, Joseph, of course," she said, not at all to his surprise; "There's not much in the way of middle management, save for clerical work. We're free to work as we please, but Joseph's wishes come first." Silena stared off into space dreamily.
Mr Frog shook his head disapprovingly. Silena's expression reminded Mr Frog briefly of Talvieno; he half-wondered if this woman secretly thought that she was some sort of rodent as well. "What if something goes wrong?" he asked, picking a different track; "What sort of failsafes are in place?"
Silena nodded, still smiling. "Well, for starters, we have cameras in every room --" she motioned towards one on the ceiling "-- and a dedicated surveillance crew." Mr Frog took note of this; human components in a system were easy to sabotage. Silena walked over to the door she had come in through and tapped on it; it was painted white, but the tone indicated solid metal. "In the event of a containment breach, any of the doors in the facility can be remotely sealed off," Silena said. She winked at Mr Frog cheerfully; "Nothing bad gets out of here unless we want it to."
"What about Joseph?" asked Mr Frog; "Where is he?"
A curious expression came over Silena's face momentarily. "Nobody knows," she said, staring at Mr Frog intently, "and nobody who finds out gets the chance to spread it around." She tilted her head; "Why do you want to know?"
Mr Frog flinched. Did Silena suspect something? No. Of course not. She was an idiot. "I'm interested in the workings of this organization," he said bluntly. After a few moments, Silena nodded, not saying anything more. Mr Frog heard a familiar screeching coming from outside the room, along with a horrifying scraping noise, like stone grinding againt metal. Silena looked at the door, her ever-present smile dissolving into an expression of pure fear, a sight which filled Mr Frog with perverse glee.
A short time later, the door to the room opened; two heavily-armed men about Mr Frog's size came through it, followed by several large, brightly-coloured, vaguely-equine creatures hauling multiple loudly-screeching metal boxes. Mr Frog was very sure what the boxes contained -- the Detective's Children, further-refined. HS-2. Silena stared at the boxes slack-jawed. She'd never seen an HS-2, but she never wanted to |hear| one ever again.
Mr Frog looked at one of the men. "The containment cells are through that door," he said, gesturing towards the relevant doorway; "I'll lead the way."
The man shook his head. "I'm just a guard," he said; he pointed towards the bright green horse-creature behind him, which looked at Mr Frog with large, unmistakeably-intelligent eyes. Mr Frog realized, to his embarassment, that the creature was not a pack animal, but rather a widely-known sapient species: Equus sapiens terrestrius -- earth pony. His time in Spearbreakers had dulled his wits.
Mr Frog nodded at the pony, who puffed derisively. He lead them out of the room towards the containment cells.
After the group had already unloaded most of the boxes, a pair of hauling ponies exited a containment cell, after which the door sealed behind them. Mr Frog nodded, and the green pony held up a remote control device with his forehoof (Mr Frog wasn't sure how the ponies managed this; he would love to dissect one sometime) and pressed a button with his muzzle. Just as with the other boxes, the group watched on the display screen above the door as the box automatically opened.
Mr Frog's guts tied into a knot as an unconscious dwarf tumbled onto the floor. He heard Silena gasp in horror behind him.
They had captured live dwarven test subjects. It was just like it had been at Ballpoint.
"Has there been a mistake?" said the green pony, a very faint quaver in his voice.
Mr Frog tore his attention away from the screen. He shook his head, too numb to say anything.
The green pony nodded, suddenly visibly-wary. He'd been wondering why some of the boxes had been silent the whole way here, and was deeply-disturbed that this was apparently exactly what they had requested. He wondered what they could possibly want with the dwarf. He wondered who the dwarf was. He wondered who the other dwarves they likely were carrying were.
"This is sick!" shouted a blue pony; "That's a person in there!" One of the guards glanced over at him momentarily, and the green pony flinched. The blue pony was quite literally doomed. Shame, too; he had been such a good worker.
Mr Frog looked at the green pony thoughtfully. If the pony's loyalty had been shaken, he was a potential tool. "Problems?" he asked quietly.
The green pony shook his head, looking at the little man apprehensively. This was a test, he decided, and he had a hunch what the punishment would be if he failed. "No," he said gruffly.
Mr Frog nodded, taking note of the pony's physical appearance. Bright green, deep-green mane, blue eyes, a bit shorter than SIlena at the shoulders, short muzzle, narrow jaw, and what appeared to be a tattoo of a wheelbarrow on his flank. If the pony came back, Mr Frog would be waiting.
The group proceeded to unload the rest of their cargo.
Some time afterwards, the green pony was leading the rest of his group back through the entrance hall when he heard a single gunshot behind him. He knew from experience what it had been. The blue pony, the one who had gotten angry earlier, was now dead. Eris didn't tolerate dissenters; they were a liability.
The green pony continued trotting straight on through the hall, not looking back. He didn't want to see. nor did he need to. He'd already seen it enough times.