An Interrogation
Special thanks to Lukas, who created Yannis
Arthur Winnipeg eyed the entrance to his cell apprehensively. To all appearances he should have been able to walk out of his own accord without any trouble. There was no door, not even a doorway, only three walls that formed a sort of giant alcove with the end open to a hall lined with similar alcoves. He’d already tried to leave though, and as he’d stepped forward the air had hardened in front of him like a pane of glass.
He rubbed absently at the stump where his recently confiscated prosthetic hand should have been, but behind the wire-rimmed spectacles his eyes still fixated on the edges of the walls where they met the hallway. Thin swirling shapes that might have been traced there with fire shone out against the utilitarian grey stonework. This technology was unlike almost anything he’d ever seen. Almost.
His lip curled as he remembered the exception.
As though to help distract him from unpleasant reminisces, a stooped man floated in front of the cell, facing him. Floated, because below the pinched face and distinctly elf-y torso, a metal tail like that of a sea creature swished back and forth apprehensively through the air. Several other natives to this planet had already arrested Winnipeg and his crew, all swimming through the air with metal tails the likes of which he’d never seen before, but as that had only been about four hours ago he was still distinctly unused to the sight.
The man coughed dryly. “Yannis, her most radiant Centerpiece of Dersin, wishes to speak with you.”
Winnipeg offered him the ghost of a smile. “Well...I mean I’m not going anywhere.”
The wheezed sigh of the herald amused him for about a second before Centerpiece drifted into view, and all else was driven momentarily from his mind.
Many of the people here had little physical quirks that made them seem not quite right for elves even aside from the tails- odd eyes that didn’t blink, or teeth that seemed a little too sharp. With Yannis, however, he would not have mistaken her for any variety of augmented elf. Eyes white as though with cataracts, though from her movements it seemed impossible that she had any trouble seeing. Pale skin that concealed less of the underlying machinations of her anatomy than could be natural. A smile full of needling teeth set back over the gums in rows. He was tempted to take a step back.
Yannis floated toward the front of the cell with a lazy twitch of the eight metal tentacles apparently keeping her aloft. She paused at the invisible barrier to lift a metal badge from its position hanging against her bare, breastless chest.
“Leave us.”
The herald responded to the imperious words with a dip of his head and a speedy retreat. For her part, Yannis held the badge up to one of the symbols. All flared momentarily brighter than ever, and she passed unhindered into Winnipeg’s cell.
Winnipeg blinked at her in surprise. “Er, good afternoon I guess. How am I supposed to address you, your Radiance?”
Yannis tilted her head to one side as she floated about a head higher than Winnipeg, considering him from her lofty perch. “Centerpiece will suffice. Now… I have been informed that you are the captain of the ship that so rudely interrupted the day-to-day lives of the Garinti. Is this correct?”
He nodded. “Yes Centerpiece Yannis, that's me.”
Her smile widened, putting more of those distinctly predatory teeth on show. “Why were you trespassing on our territory, elf? Everything in Dersin is mine, and everyone here is accountable to me as its brilliant and majestic ruler. We do not enjoy interruptions made by nosy space elves.”
Winnipeg would have found Yannis’s description of herself funny if the situation hadn’t been so dire, and doomed to become even more dire when he answered her question. Winnipeg swallowed.
“That’s, um. Classified, actually.”
Yannis chuckled, but something in her face went rigid. “Try again, Art… what did they say your name was? Arthur?”
Winnipeg only smiled out of nerves. “That’s correct, yeah. But I really can’t… it’s still classified. It doesn’t matter where I am or who I’m talking to.”
The tentacles clicked and writhed in agitation. She moved several inches closer to Winnipeg. "You were listening when I told you this entire system answers to me, weren't you Arthur? Elvish law does not apply within my territory. You are in my territory. So. You are going to tell me why you are here."
Resigning himself to the worst, Winnipeg sighed. "I wish I could, Cent-"
He didn't get the chance to finish his sentence. A clawed hand grasped the front of his shirt and shoved him backwards into the wall. Caught off-guard as he was, there hadn't been time to resist.
"I could make things very unpleasant for you Arthur." Yannis's words came out almost in a purr. "And I have every reason to. Our kind has no love of elves." She stared into his eyes with a fierce if clouded intensity. He could hear a tear in his shirt's back ripping further as she shifted her grip. It was all he could do not to try and lash out at her; instead he just met her gaze as levelly as he could. Yannis tilted her head. Her grip loosened just slightly.
"But I like your face," she mused in a detached voice. "I do not think you yourself have the cunning to spy on us very effectively, even if your ship hadn't crashed here." She released his shirt and rose a fraction of an inch toward the ceiling. "If you knew what I know, perhaps you would not be so eager to cover for the wretches who sent you to steal our secrets."
Winnipeg stepped away from the wall. His boyish scowl had returned, and he shivered a little as a draft touched his bare skin through the rip in his shirt- though that might not have been the only reason for his current goosebumps.
"Loyalty isn't something I struggle with as much as you might think. Damnit, this shirt's almost in tatters. Could you please lay off manhandling me any further until you can get me a new one? Your Centerpiece-ness?"
She didn't respond. Winnipeg looked up into her face again and was surprised to see that her smile had gone. The rigidity of earlier had returned full-force, and he suddenly felt that the worst of his fears were about to be realized.
"Remove your shirt."
Winnipeg's brows shot up in his surprise. "What? Why?"
"I told you. To remove your shirt. Arthur."
Her voice trembled slightly with a barely contained emotion that might have been anger. Completely bemused, Winnipeg grabbed the back of the offending article of clothing and pulled it off over his head.
"There, are you happy now?" His tone couldn't be helping his case, but he couldn't find it in himself to be more polite about her absurd request.
"Turn around so I can see your back."
And then the why clicked into place. He stared at her in amazement, just for a moment, before acquiescing. Her breath hitched, and in an instant he could feel a claw tracing something over his skin. It took a good deal of self control not to wrench away.
"Where did you get these, Arthur?"
Her voice still wavered dangerously. He cleared his throat.
"That's classified."
The claw moved up over his shoulder before resting against his throat. "Remember who is asking you these questions, Arthur," she hissed. "You are going to have to try harder than that to appease the Centerpiece of Dersin. Now. Where did you get these marks?"
Winnipeg shifted uncomfortably. "Look, you can throw your title at me all day long and it won't give me-" His throat closed around the words, and he choked. Was even that too much?
"Won't give you what?"
He swallowed and tried again. "I literally can't- it won't- agh!" With a grimace Winnipeg reached up to rub his throat. To his surprise, Yannis floated back away from him.
"I thought so." Her voice contained a strange mixture of triumph and simmering anger. "I would recognize my technology anywhere, even through a hole in your clothing."
Winnipeg cast her a suspicious glance before bending to pick up his shirt. "Okay… does that mean you're not going to kill me?"
In lieu of an answer, she caught his wrist as he straightened again. "Come Arthur," she said imperiously. "We have much to discuss."
He staggered after her into the hallway, irritated despite his precarious situation. "Hang on, can't you let me redress first? Or explain yourself, or anything?"
"You won't need your shirt."
The steel in her tone did not go unnoticed. Winnipeg opted not to ask any more questions.
Down an elevator at the end of the hall, past several guards stationed at secure looking doors, and finally Yannis led him into a small oppressively sterile room. Blinding white lights glared off of metal furnishings, including a table with thick straps hanging from its sides. Yannis released Winnipeg's arm. The veins under her translucent skin stood out all the more under the stark lighting.
"Lay down on your front, Arthur."
Winnipeg slowly approached the table, insides heavy with dread. "Can you tell me why, Centerpiece Yannis?"
"Because I wish you to do it. That should be reason enough. Now."
For the briefest instant Winnipeg considered running, but that wouldn't accomplish anything would it? He didn't know this place. Besides, he owed it to his crew to stick things out in case they got off more easily for it. They weren't to blame for this mess.
Wincing, he did as Yannis asked. She immediately set to strapping him in. He waited.
The first scratch down his back elicited a grunt of surprise, though it wasn't terribly painful. More to save face than anything, he remarked, "Aren't you supposed to ask me a question first?"
"Quiet. I'm working." Another scratch, symmetrical to the first. A small amount of blood dribbled down from the broken skin, and he craned his neck in an attempt to see what she was doing.
Then the real pain caught him like a horse kicking him in the spine. Winnipeg flinched with a gasp. It had nothing to do with the feeling of her incisions, or whatever they were.
"I'm almost halfway done," Yannis snapped. "Please stay still Arthur, as a lack of precision could damage you very badly, and I do not wish for you to be damaged."
"Wh-what is this?" He blinked away the sweat that had suddenly started to drip into his eyes, and the horrible disconnected agony mounted. "I… I know this pain. I've felt it before."
"Exactly." The smugness in her voice somehow managed not to be reassuring. "These alterations are unlikely to be permanent- unfortunately for you, perhaps, but of course in my brilliance I have thought of a way to work around that setback. You only need to sit still a bit longer… and…"
Winnipeg's back arched of its own accord. Someone was shouting; was it him? It had to be him, as it was too deep to be Yannis.
"Arthur. Focus, Arthur."
Her red hair and staring white eyes swam in his field of vision.
"...y-yeah? 'm here."
"Arthur. Tell me your words. I need to know so we can make them pay for this atrocity."
Winnipeg mumbled something. He couldn't be sure what in this state- the command words, a plea for mercy, profanity, it could have been any of these. And then he was falling away from her through blackness, and the pain peeled away with his consciousness…
"Arthur."
"... tired. Leave me alone."
He had the sensation of piercing white light trying to pry its way beneath his eyelids. An echoing sigh filtered in and out of his range of hearing.
Then Yannis said the words, followed by, "Sit up."
"I'd love to."
His eyes snapped open and without thinking about it Winnipeg jerked into a sitting position. He was still in the operating room, no longer strapped down, and Yannis watched him with a smugness that rivaled any cat he had ever seen.
He ran a hand shakily through his auburn hair. "How. What did you do?"
"Your astonishment is warranted. Many people are amazed to realize I am the essence of genius along with a ravishing beauty. Now, Arthur."
She leaned close to him. Beneath the smugness lay a hunger he hadn't noticed before, one that had long gone unsated.
"How would you like to tell me everything?"