Buster waited outside the room as the board reviewed the footage. He didn't care how bad it looked for him to not be there with them, he couldn't handle seeing it. The panda was usually considerate with his vaping but then and there he cranked the voltage up to maximum and drew in hot cloudy air. He focused on holding it in, doing a series of controlled inhales and exhales to disperse the cloud as invisibly as possible, the meditative rhythms of vaping as calming as the drug itself.
He had done the right thing. He had considered going the populist route, releasing the video publicly and trying to curry favor before the board would have a chance to form a united front. That plan could just as easily backfire and wind up with him being a victim of a lynch mob before order could be established. Besides, it was dishonest. There was an established order here and he had pledged to follow that. The board called the shots in the end, and trying to subvert or impair their judgment would just be stepping further out of line.
He had told Dr. Calvini that he had important news about the day of the attack that he hadn't shared with them. As much of an imposition as it might be, he really thought it was best if he could present it to the board in person. That was why he went to her: she liked him the least, so he knew she would be very motivated to allow him to embarrass himself.
When the board assembled, he was forthcoming. He had lied to them about the suffocation being an accident. He had planned it all from the start. He was telling them this because he had received a message taunting him with it. Two rogue Nakunan Freelancers were coming, and all he knew was that they wanted him. Also, that one of them was his ex-wife.
Back on the day he had done the deed, he hadn't acted sad or anguished. He was glad they were dead and there was no way he could pretend otherwise. So instead he had leaned into being anxious about messing up: I'm so sorry, I can't do anything right, we could have done so much with them. Where's the lie there?
Dr. Calvini saw right through it. But she knew that it would take more than her hunch to change the boards' minds, so she waited for the panda to mess up again. That's why, when he came up to her and requested an audience, she was so happy to get everyone together on such short notice.
In the room, the video had stopped but they hadn't opened the door to wave Buster back inside. They were probably deliberating.
He considered another hit off of his vaporizer, but decided against it. He needed to be sharp for what was coming, no matter how much it hurt.
Instead, he thought about the sunflowers he was growing. He thought about getting a tall glass jar of moonshine in return for helping an underground homebrewer and not even feeling the urge to drink it. He thought of the hug he got for brewing hormones for a friend, promising her that she wouldn't ever have to worry about rationing due to an intercepted solar sailer so long as he was around. He thought of the orderlies at the gym telling him that if he got into weightlifting he'd be a real beast, and them not understanding why he didn't want to be stronger. Snuggling up with Farmer Carbuncle on the ratty old sofa in the smoking shack during the mild winter, getting more giggly as the small room filled with smoke and vapor.
He wished he had known what he would be giving up when he made his choice. He definitely would have chosen differently now.
When the door opened he turned a little too quickly, steadying himself as he faced them. They beckoned him back inside and he stood in front of the seated board, awkwardly shifting his great mass from paw to paw.
"Who have you told about this?" asked the lighter-skinned member of the council. Buster knew her now, she was named Sophear and she ran long-term care. He saw her often when he came to visit Petro every day.
"Only Petro. He's my friend, I trust him. I talked about it with him first thing this morning, but he promised he wouldn't say anything about it to anyone else. I wanted to make sure you had a chance to get in front of this." explained Buster.
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"I can vouch for Petro." agreed Sophear, "He's the workhorse of our codebase, we trust him with everything."
"Good." said Dr. Calvini, "It's going to take us awhile to figure out how we're going to handle this. But I think one thing is clear: we cannot trust you, Buster. You murdered four people. I'm sure a lot of Zed Steadman would have done the same if given the opportunity, but the difference is that they are not mass murderers that are supposedly in recovery and seeking redemption."
The darker-skinned board member (Santra, logistics) interrupted. He found Dr. Calvini's open contempt for the panda to be tiresome. "We will need some time to figure out how exactly we are going to proceed with this. In the meantime, we are unfortunately going to have to move you from the quarters to a detention cell."
Buster had been prepared for this. "I've been to the detention block, the ceiling is only seven feet high. I can't stand up in there, that's cruel and unusual punishment. I have a better idea."
He didn't give them a chance to interrupt and continued.
"Martenwol base is laying dormant. Santra's team finished hauling all the ordinance back to Zed Steadman months ago. Sophear's people cleared the labs. Dr. Calvini, you personally signed off on ending the scavenging caravan. There's nothing there I could use to escape or to hurt anyone. When Kincade and Mirabelle arrive, I'll be days away so if they want me they won't have to come anywhere near you. And if they try and pull a Lance, you have some real firepower now; I doubt my ex could afford anything close to a Komodo."
They hadn't seemed to consider that.
He continued, "I can take the Jerboa, so you don't even have to spare a pilot. The machinecannon and grenade launcher are modular, someone from Santra's team could pop them out over a smoke break if they haven't already; you won't have to worry about me being a danger to anyone. Not that I even know how to use the weapons systems in the first place, but better safe than sorry. I'll still have the collar on too, so you'll be able to track me and incapacitate me remotely, I'll just be out of your hair where I can't hurt anyone."
Dr. Calvini was annoyed. "I'm not going to reward you for what you did, Buster."
Now Buster was annoyed, though he tried not to show it. "It's not a reward. I spent the past six months building a life here and now I have to leave it without saying goodbye. I'm going to have to spend days traveling. The only supplies I'll have are what I can fit in the cockpit with me and whatever is left to scavenge at Martenwol. I never wanted to set foot in a Nakunan institution again, and I'm dreading seeing that place outside of my nightmares."
Nobody was interrupting him. "But if I stay here, it could drive a wedge through the community. A lot of people like me, and a lot of people really don't like me. We've been under blockade for over half a year now. It's not the same, but I saw what a pressure cooker can do to men on Ryzeen and I just ratcheted the pressure at Zed Steadman up a few more notches. Something's gotta give, best if it's the person responsible."
The board looked among each other. "We'll consider it. But for now we are going to have to detain you. I know you'll come quietly, right?" Dr. Calvini motioned to one of the omnipresent orderlies and he produced an extra large pair of restraints.
Buster sighed. He had hoped he could go his whole life without being handcuffed and locked in a cell, but he had fully accepted that the moment he released Little B he had no right to hold on to such hopes.
"Please, handcuff me in front. I'm a panda, my skeleton slopes forward and I'm broader than you. It's harder for my arms to reach all the way back like that." he asked, trying his best to show deference as he made his needs known.
The orderlies looked to Dr. Calvini and she nodded, a small mercy for the large bear. He obediently held his paws in front of him and let them pull the loops of plastic cord tight. Leaving valleys in his long, coarse, black fur.
"Thank you. I'm sorry." he said simply, yet with his entire soul hanging on it
He really was sorry.
Now that he knew he could live the good life, he could never go back. Killing Lance and his friends felt incredible, but it didn't make him happy. Life at Zed Steadman did.
A part of him was worried that without the comfort and stability of daily life as part of a nurturing community, his darkness would return again.
That was the real reason why he wanted to go to Martenwol. He didn't want to see his friends be disappointed in him. He didn't want to feel resentment and scorn towards these people who had made him so happy. He didn't want them to see him crying or raging against the bars of a cage.
Better that he just fade into memory.
Whatever happened to that big old bear who used to hang out with the guy in the wheelchair? He was funny.
Oh, he sucked. He's gone now. We don't talk about him anymore.