[Author’s note: we have returned to modern times, roughly two years after Rin left Daryl.]
Even if nothing else appeared the same, the holding cell was familiar enough. Despite his circumstances, Daryl could not help but feel a tinge of nostalgia. This sort of place had been home once. He just hoped he wouldn’t be forced to spend the rest of his life at “home”. If memory served, he more likely would experience a brief period of excruciating pain followed by eternal nothingness. Ultimately, his home would be the same as everybody else’s.
Without warning, the door burst open and a scowling soldier entered. The uniform was different from those Daryl remembered, but the insignia indicated the man was a sergeant in the Securitad. This was a good sign.
Daryl’s biggest concern when captured was that he would be shunted by some bureaucrat into an obscure branch of the vast detention system to languish, his message undelivered. The Securitad had a direct line to the Senior Party. For better or worse, the presence of such an officer signified that they were taking him seriously. It meant he stood a chance of success.
An older man followed the sergeant into the room. He had a hard face and was stylishly dressed in a pullover and chinos. Daryl didn’t recognize him, but he obviously was somebody important. If nothing else, he exuded an air of authority.
“This is the one?” the man inquired without looking at the prisoner. The sergeant nodded. Daryl stood to greet the man, but the soldier shoved him back into his seat. Another nod from the man and the sergeant left the room, closing the door behind him.
This puzzled Daryl. While the older man certainly wasn’t frail, neither was he particularly brawny. The precision of his movement bespoke a military background, but he did not appear to be armed. It made little sense that they would leave a man of obvious importance alone with an unknown captive, even if handcuffed. Something about the man’s confidence unsettled Daryl.
“It is nice to meet you.”
The man spoke flawless Capital dialect. It had been so many years, that the language almost sounded foreign to Daryl. Rin didn’t speak it, and had forbidden him from “assaulting her ears with that verbal diarrhea.” Hearing it after so long and as an outsider, Daryl understood what she meant. If even the graceful Capital dialect was so abrasive, he wondered how awful his own provincial tongue must sound. He felt ashamed and inadvertently replied in English before realizing it.
“Thank you for seeing me, sir.”
It was the customary greeting when preparing to receive censure from a superior.
The man was taken aback, but then laughed. “Is that all it takes to forget your homeland?”
Daryl turned red. “Thank you for seeing me, sir,” he repeated apologetically, now in his mother tongue.
“Much better,” the man grinned. “Do you recognize me?”
Daryl shook his head slowly. The interrogator did not seem surprised or upset. He slid a photograph across the table. It featured a man in an impeccable suit and of unclear ethnicity, though certainly not local.
“He looks familiar, but I cannot place him,” Daryl confessed after a few moments thought.
“That’s just as well. This is the man you asked for. If you do not know him, then why did you ask for him?”
Daryl himself could not answer this. “I have the impression that he is someone I must speak to.”
The older man did not seem impatient with such an evasive response. Quite the opposite, he had an agreeable, understanding demeanor. His questions, though direct, were not piercing. Daryl was well aware how suspicious his own words must sound.
“Speak to him about what?” came the inevitable reply.
Daryl was unsure of this himself and had hoped the right questions would come to him when the time arrived. However, he doubted such an explanation would pass muster here.
“It was a name I heard. I thought he may know the truth about somebody I met.”
“I see,” the man replied sympathetically. “And from whom did you hear that name? Is it the same person you want to learn about?”
Daryl nodded. “It’s a woman. I don’t know her true name.”
The man laughed. “Of course it’s a woman. Didn’t get her name, eh?”
The man’s sudden familiarity angered Daryl, though he knew better than to show it. He had not had direct dealings with the Securitad before, but could tell he was being toyed with. He needed to get past this interrogator to somebody who would take him seriously.
“Are you Securitad?” Daryl asked, throwing caution to the wind. He expected the man to bark some cliche about being the one asking the questions.
Instead, he merely shrugged. “You could say that.”
Daryl leaned in. “I have important information for this Karkov. I’m sure he would want to see me.”
“I see,” the man replied with a touch of sarcasm. “Would that information be in the form of a knife?”
It clearly was a test, and Daryl decided to take a chance. He fixed the man’s eyes.
“We both know that wouldn’t work.”
The interrogator smiled. “Yes, especially since you don’t have one.”
Despite the glib response, Daryl sensed that the man had taken his meaning. A thought suddenly occurred to him.
“Are you Karkov?”
The man sighed and pointed at the photo in front of Daryl, tapping it for emphasis.
“Go home. The man you seek died years ago in the upheaval.”
Daryl very much doubted that, but held his tongue. Upheaval? Was that what they now called it?
The man smiled at him once more, then banged on the door. Once he had departed, the sergeant unlocked Daryl’s handcuffs.
“I’m free, then?” The sergeant gave a gruff nod.
As he was led out, Daryl turned to him. “That man,” he began. The sergeant’s face darkened, but Daryl was undeterred. “Who was he?”
The sergeant’s jaw dropped, and he stared at Daryl without moving. After a second, he found his voice and barked in disgust, “You worthless piece of shit. Can’t you recognize our Fervent Leader?”
Daryl burst out laughing, and the sergeant looked like he wanted to strike him.
“Forgive me, I have not returned in many years,” Daryl explained in as conciliatory a tone as he could muster. The sergeant surveyed him for a moment, and then grunted acknowledgment before leading him out of the building and into a military jeep. They drove in silence until they reached the main entrance to the city.
When he got out, Daryl smiled at the sergeant. “I’m glad we have such a leader,” he declared with warmth.
For the first time, the sergeant’s scowl ebbed. “Do as he said, son. Just go home.” He even waved at Daryl before driving away.
This chapter moved very quickly and left me wanting more.