It was a small room with only one chair. A light bulb on the ceiling flickered on and off. The air was damp and smelled of mold. He hadn’t seen any bugs yet, but he could sometimes hear them scurrying behind the walls.
He was not on the chair. The shackles that chained him to the wall prevented him from reaching it. So he sat on the floor instead. Had even slept there.
There was no window, so he wasn’t sure how long he had been kept here. He had seen no one since his abduction. He had woken here, chained as he was. His captors had not even brought him food or water. They’d have to do so soon if they wanted him alive.
And who were his captors, he wondered? The Imperials? They would not resort to such methods. Why bother when they could simply make you disappear?
Footsteps beyond the door. The sound of a lock being unlocked. It swung open and light flooded in, blinding him.
Someone walked in, leaving the door open, and went to the chair. Sat. The wooden frame creaked under the body’s weight. The man crossed his legs—it was a man, he could tell as much now.
“So sad,” said a stranger’s voice. “It truly breaks my heart to see you in such a state, Prof. Roche.”
“Who are you?” asked Halden, his voice but a rasp.
“Wrong question. Would you like to try again?” Seeing the scientist’s confused expression, the man sighed. “You are not here to ask questions, professor, but to answer them. I am, however, feeling magnanimous and so will allow one question, but one only.”
“But not just any random question, it seems.”
Though he still could not make out the man’s features, Halden’s eyes were beginning to adjust to the brightness, and he could tell the man was smiling, though he did not comment.
The scientist leaned back against the wall and pondered for a moment.
“If there is only one question you are willing to answer,” he slowly said, “and that the question has to be a specific one, then I can only assume it is one that would not reveal anything that wouldn’t become obvious from... well, from my questioning.” He looked up, searching for the other’s eyes, but only saw darker spots where they should have been. The smile was still there, perhaps drawn wider now. “You want me to ask why I am here. But what is the point, if I am to find out from what follows? So go ahead. Ask your questions.”
The smile faded, and Halden heard a hint of disappointment in the other’s voice.
“I knew you were smart, professor. Perhaps a bit too much for your own good. Still...” He sighed. “Very well, then. I suppose we should proceed. You were seen coming out of the Regency just before it blew up. What were you doing there?”
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Halden flinched at the memory. Why would this stranger ask him about that, of all things? Was he a questor? No, questors did not abduct people like this. Unless they thought him involved in the bombing? Even then, he wasn’t the only one who had left the building. Why would they single him out?
He couldn’t help but laugh as he rested his head against the wall.
“What do you find so funny?”
“You. Or your question, rather.”
“And why is that?”
“It has occurred to me that you must know my profession, since you called me professor. Why would a scientist blow up the Regency? It’s the most preposterous thing I’ve ever heard.”
The other man clicked his tongue. “I made no such claim. I am simply asking a question, which I would advise you to answer.”
Halden shrugged. “My daughter used to like going there when she was a child.”
“Ah. Yes. Lucy.”
A cold chill went through the scientist’s body but he said nothing, and silence settled between them for a moment.
“I wonder,” started the man, “what would you be willing to do to avenge your daughter?”
“Avenge? She died in an accident. A thilium leak.”
The interrogator made a dismissive gesture with his right hand. “Please. We both know that is a lie. A cover-up.”
“I don’t—”
“Let me be clear, Prof. Roche. Your friend, Marthus—or should I say, former friend? We have been watching him. In fact, there was a bug inside his glider.”
The man said no more, letting his words sink in. Halden’s eyes went wide as he realized they had heard everything... Whoever ‘they’ were. This man couldn’t be a questor. Why would he have been investigating Marthus when Marthus had been obeying orders?
“Who are you?” he asked again.
The other grunted. “Should I remind you that you are here to answer questions, not to ask them?”
“If you work for the government, then I request a lawyer. I know my rights.”
The man crossed his arms. “You think the government cares about your rights? Your daughter had rights too, didn’t she? And they killed her anyway.”
Halden’s eyes narrowed. “They?”
“Has it never occurred to you that the Emperor is a tyrant? His laws are a travesty. Get in his way, and he will crush you without a second of hesitation. He made that quite clear when he condemned a whole world to oblivion, did he not? Billions of civilians who had nothing to do with the offenses of their leaders—many of whom likely even disapproved. And yet...” The man snapped his fingers. “Just like that. Gone.”
“Not yet. Qevahr still stands—and resists.”
“So it does. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”
“Wonder what?”
“A question. Tsk. Still, I will allow it.” The man leaned forward, shoulders resting on his legs, and Halden could now see the short dark hair, the malicious eyes, the thin lips. “How can Qevahr stand up as it does? And if they can resist the Emperor, couldn’t others do so as well?”
“Are you expecting me to answer those questions, sir? Or are you just making conversation?”
The other grimaced. “You are not an easy man to speak with, Prof. Roche. How disappointing.”
“Tell you what. Let’s trade places and see how you feel about making conversation.”
“Ah. You are upset. Understandable. And yet necessary.”
Halden was more than just upset, and he made it clear with the growl in his voice.
“What is this about?”
“Finally! You ask the question.” The man smirked as he leaned back in his chair, his face disappearing in the light from the hall beyond the cell. “This, my friend, is about making you an offer you can’t refuse. This is about justice. About destroying a tyrant. Once and for all.”
Halden frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m talking about committing treason.”