The lights come on again in Andrew Calvin’s interrogation room, revealing Erin Quill standing in the doorway. Calvin is chained to a chair in the center of the room, instruments and IV ducts piled around him. He still isn’t fully recovered from his near brush with death. The side walls and floor are cold, gray concrete, while the back wall bears a mirror.
Erin Quill stands towering over Calvin, hands folded behind his back. Light from the hallway makes him visible only as an almost ethereal silhouette. He glares at Calvin, helpless in his bonds.
“Do you know who I am?” asks Quill.
Calvin opens his mouth and chokes out the words, tired from his ordeal. “You are… Erin Quill,” he manages.
“Correct,” says Quill. “Chief engineer of the Southern Republic and architect of the wormhole known as Erin’s Oracle. I defend the people with knowledge and clarity of thought.”
“Government… dog,” Calvin spits out.
Erin smiles to himself. “Are you implying that the canine members of our military are any less competent than the human ones, Andrew Calvin? Oh yes. We have dogs with far more wits about them that the all of you combined.”
Erin unfolds his hands and produces a glass jar with a small green and yellow frog sitting in it. “Do you know what this is?”
Calvin almost laughed. “That is… a frog,” he said, his voice crackly.
Erin grinned wider. “This is a subspecies of poison dart frog that I have been studying for the last three years. It secretes various neurotoxins that shut down certain circuits of the brain. The particular compound that I have extracted disables the parts that create fabrications. Under this drug, and with the proper prodding, you will tell me everything I want to know.”
Calvin was thrashing against his bonds by now. “No! No! I won’t betray the Resistance!”
“You are welcome to fight, of course. The drug will put you into something of a stupor, but I suppose you could still stay silent. That would just result in more difficulty for you.”
Calvin cried and tossed like a madman. “Kill me! KILL ME!” he shrieked.
“We are not that barbaric around here, Andrew,” Quill answered softly. “But your people are. I will give you one chance to explain yourself. Why did you want to destroy the capital?”
“...what?” Calvin asked.
“Oh come on, now,” said Erin Quill, pacing around the room, “Don’t play dumb. We know of your plans to destabilize the wormhole.”
Calvin looked more shocked than angry. “Destabilize. It would only destroy the palace, suck in the nobles. Then it would dissipate harmlessly.”
Erin suppressed yet another laugh. “I fear your knowledge of quantum mechanics is sadly outdated, Andrew. Black holes are an impenetrable barrier to light, but we have determined that no barrier is impenetrable. It will not dissipate harmlessly, Andrew. Rather, it will explode with the force of a dying star.”
Erin had circled behind Calvin by now, shouting into his ears. “It will emit a blast of scorching gamma rays, and every man, woman, and child in the city will die a horrible death, the skin torn from their bodies, the flesh ripped off their limbs, their eyes crushed within their sockets! Everything in the city will be set alight by that savage light, every building, every house, every cradle, will be made to ash in the conflagration!”
Erin once again stood in front of Calvin. His voice dropped to its typical softness again. “And why, Andrew Calvin? Why must two million people die so you can prove a point?
“Why,” he said, voice rising once more, “why, because of love, of course. The power of the deepest heart unleashing the energies of the darkest star and oh, how the world burns, burns, burns. Blinded by emotion, stupefied by affection, you ignored the blazingly obvious truth - that Sam Drimoxi is just a mad man with a gun and a cute granddaughter, and will be the end of us all!”
He leaned in close again. “Let me tell you a little secret, Andrew. I don’t much like the Republic. It’s functional. Not perfect, but functional. If it can be improved, I’ll improve it. If it must be destroyed, then, well, I’ll destroy it.” He chuckled to himself.
“But you? People like you? People that hate? People that act without thought? People that kill for fickle reasons? People convinced of the righteousness of their most heinous actions?”
He withdrew an ampoule from his cloak and stepped back. “People like you are what keep me up at night, Andrew Calvin.”
He inserted the ampoule into a ready-made slot and the green liquid within sloshed around. “I told you the truth. It is now your turn. I have a few questions for you, Andrew Calvin.”