3 October 2013

Interrogation

More news about the dear duo of Report on Sample 717, following on from here... 

Having been roughly hauled from the prison pod on their arrival, Edrig was rather surprised to find that he and Adrig were made to sit down in front of one of the youngest of the Lady Lord's... the dead Lady Lord's... assistants in the interrogation suite beneath her former quarters. This seated Lady was so young and so lacking in fat compared to most of the rest of them that she was almost acceptable, Edrig managed to ponder in amongst all the emotions of fear and dread. Four other more fearsome Ladies stood on either side of the interrogator, and each of them was armed with an electric stinger stick which Edrig hoped was to prevent any attempt at escape rather than for any more sinister purpose. He had heard bad tales about the use of electric stinger sticks by Ladies in a temper.

The lights were low. The Ladies were all in their blackest gowns, and the small, young and not so fat one in the high seat bent forward and began to speak.

'Have you two got any idea what we can do to you in punishment for the murder of a Lady Lord?'

Edrig felt faint. Adrig sighed and slumped and trembled, seemingly trying to speak but clearly unable to do so.

'Murder?' Edrig managed to squeak. 'Not murder. Not murder but... but...'

'But how do I know she's dead anyway?'

'Well yes, actually,' Edrig continued, although that was not what he had been thinking of saying at all.

'You are very lucky, very lucky indeed, that Engineer Macrig took some freelance monitoring precautions.'

'Oh...'

'So to summarise briefly, a Lady Lord... Your Lady Lord, dies before your eyes and what do you two do? You follow procedures of course. Don't you? Did you?'

'Well we...'

'Yes?'

'We were in shock my Lady,' Adrig suddenly offered.

'Ah! So Adrag has found his voice eh?'

'Adrig, my Lady.'

'What?'

'It's Adrig my Lady, not Adrag.'

'Oh... And do you think I give the slightest little damn what your stupid name is you idiot of a man?'

'No my Lady. Sorry.'

Despite her tone Edrig was feeling somewhat more relaxed already, and his mind was busy trying to figure out the stage that things would have developed to back here on his remote outpost base, where he had lived out all of his years.

'Are you the new Lady Lord here then?'

'Huh! Do I look like a Lady Lord you fool,' she sneered, turning back to Edrig.

This was a difficult question, for what Edrig and Adrig thought a Lady Lord looked like was very different from what the Ladies would think.

'Eh... well... You... You certainly look worthy of being a Lady Lord, my Lady,' Edrig dared to say.

'Shut up you ridiculous twit!' came the instant reply, 'although you are quite sexy I suppose, in a squirty little way. Hmm...'

Edrig shut up as commanded. Adrig shifted uncomfortably in his seat. One of the standing Ladies casually slapped her electric stinger stick against her leg and offered Edrig a sinister and leery smile.

There then followed a rather long and convoluted attempt at explanation, with Edrig and Adrig seeking a stumbling consistency as they each offered parts of the story.

'We were in shock,'

'We needed fluids.'

'We made a mistake.'

'We thought it was just fruit juice.'

'It was their beer.'

'It affected us badly.'

The seated Lady looked at them in turn as they spoke, and listened with an expression of contempt as the account developed.

'So,' she said eventually, 'You abandoned the remains of your dead Lady Lord, got deeply drunk, and threw your stuff away... oh, but then there is the matter of the false message from your dead Lady Lord's communifier, isn't there? The wicked wicked message.'

'We were very drunk.'

'It was an accident,'

'A disaster.'

'A tragedy.'

The seated Lady suddenly smiled, and some of the standing ladies giggled, which puzzled Edrig greatly.

'A tragedy?' their interrogator queried. 'Really?'

The emphasis in her voice was loaded with what almost seemed like sarcasm.

'Yes, really my Lady Lor... eh, my Lady.'

'Ah... not really Edrig,' the seated Lady said quite softly after a rather long pause. 'You know us ladies here are actually quite glad to be rid of the nasty old bitch.'

Edrig and Adrig gasped in unison.

The standing Ladies began laughing, and the seated Lady leaned back in her chair and suddenly called out, 'Fetch the young lad some testosterjuice. Ach and the old fellow too, Testosterjuice! Fetch the Cannabinised testosterjuice and get the pair of drunken oafs some alcoholicky things to drink too. There are nine of us here to be satisfied. Rejoice!'

And the other Ladies all thrust their electric stinger sticks in the air and screeched in unison: 'Rejoice!'

Soon some loud and cheerful music began to blast from the sound system, thick rugs were pulled out from a cupboard and laid across the floor, and the nine Ladies began circling Edrig and Adrig as the testosterjuice and alcohol arrived on a robotray wheeling silently into the room.

2 comments:

Claude said...

Better than the gas chamber, ou la guillotine, lads!

Elephant's Child said...

Perhaps better than the gas chamber - but scary just the same. Very scary...