Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego, Home by the Sea, Ch 3 (Dying Informant, 11)
Title: Home by the Sea, chapter 3: Welcome to the Home by the Sea
Author/Artist: Crystal Rose of Pollux (rose_of_pollux)
Theme(s): 11; The truth never changes.
Character: the Dying Informant
Fandom: Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine (unless otherwise noted) and the story is!
Cross-posted to 31_days and my journal
Author’s note: I’ve made a very minor change to the first chapter-the river in question is now the East River, as opposed to the Hudson.
*********************************
“Little brother…?” the Techie whispered. A dream, his rational mind chided him. You were dreaming…
The brunet wiped the sweat off of his face. No… His very soul would not be hurting like this if it was just a dream! The Informant… He was crying for help… But why? Was he trapped between the planes again….!? Or was it even wildly possible that…
The Techie’s eyes widened in horror. He haphazardly changed back into his rain-soaked clothes and headed for an ACME car, for there was only one way he would be able to come to grips with his brother’s death: he would have to see him with his own eyes, forever asleep.
But… the dream… Oh, the very thought of him alive, still drowning…! Why hadn’t he insisted to the others that he had to go and find him… to say goodbye!?
A flash of lightning lit up the road ahead, and the Techie was turning through the streets, not sure how he was able to remember where he was going-perhaps his heart was leading him.
“Little brother!” he cried aloud. “What happened to you!?”
Sometimes, he recalled, ghosts and spirits stuck around because they did not know that they were dead. Was he really dead, but thinking that he was still alive…? Was that why he had been crying for help-because he was lost in an unfamiliar place… a different plane…?
He would be terrified-absolutely horrified! To find himself in a place so unknown, and all alone, too…!
The Techie held back another sob, wishing he could take his lost and tormented brother in his arms and tell him that everything would be alright. But even he didn’t know if he could make such a promise… He didn’t even know if he would be able to hold him at all!
“I’ll find you…” he promised aloud. “I’ll help you…go where you need to…” He trembled as he took another turn, driving up to the East River. “But… I’d give anything for you to stay…”
He hobbled alongside the banks, walking down them, trying to see any sign of his missing brother.
“But first… I need proof that you’re gone…” the Techie went on, with a sob. “I didn’t want to believe it! I didn’t-I swear! It all happened so fast… But I wanted to hold on to the hope that you were…”
He trailed off, horrified as his flashlight beam landed on disturbed area of the bank. Crates and dirt were littering the place, as though there had been a struggle, but the place was now completely empty, save for a single, soaking-wet black fedora that lay nondescript by the banks.
The brunet let out a tormented howl as he crashed to his knees, clutching his head in both hands. That fedora… it had to be the Informant’s fedora…! But this wasn’t where the Rookie and the Recruiting Officer had placed the flowers… What if… what if…!?
“Little brother!” he cried, desperately, as though expecting the lost boy to reply him. “Little brother!?”
Who would take his… his drowned form!? And why!? Oh, the possible ideas made the Techie feel like fainting…
But the question remain… who…? No… no human could be behind this atrocity! What could have done this to the Informant!? The Techie would not know… He would most like never know… Never knowing what happened to his younger brother, who had truly lain in this spot… And he knew he had lain there, for the brunet had taken the fedora in his hands, and by feeling it, had known that the Informant had worn it.
Where was the boy lying now!? Was he going to be brought back as some mindless zombie…? Had that been what the Informant’s spirit had been crying out to stop!?
The Techie cried out again as his communicator went off, for the Messenger and the Inspector had felt arrows strike them next, and had gone to the next room to see the Techie missing.
“Techie, where are you!?” the Inspector’s voice asked.
The Techie replied with an unintelligible wail.
“…You’re at the riverside, aren’t you…?” the Messenger asked, softly.
“They took him!” the Techie cried. “Someone fished him out and stole him!”
The silence on the other line was deafening, but, finally there was a loud thump-the Messenger had fallen to his knees, praying to whatever force was out there that he had just misheard the Techie’s words.
“Can you say that again…?” asked the Inspector, also praying that this was some sort of twisted nightmare and nothing more.
“They stole his… They stole him!” the Techie howled, slamming his fists into the pier. “And I wasn’t there to help him… to stop them!”
The Messenger cursed the unknown perpetrators angrily
“Techie, stay right there; we’re coming right now,” said the Inspector. His voice was calm, but obviously full of rage.
The Techie didn’t reply; he continued to clutch the fedora, sobbing, when something caught his eye. Beside one of the broken crates was an odd object-part of a rope, which had been cut from a larger piece.
The brunet took the piece of rope in his hand, wondering what on earth it was doing here. He glanced back at the fedora in his other hand, blinking as a flash of lightning illuminated a dark stain on the black hat’s brim, discoloring it slightly. But… what could cause such a stain-one that was not there on the hat before? And did the rope have anything at all to do with this…?
The Techie glanced at the two objects in his hand, his eyes widening as the frightening possibilities were beginning to form. He glanced back at the ground as another flash of lightning lit it up, and that was when he caught a glimpse of a few small, barely visible red stains. And as the Techie stared at them, his mind could only focus on one fact: the stains were fresh; what had transpired here had not occurred more than hour ago, if not in lesser time.
The brunet stared at the fedora, and then at the rope. Could it be…? Was it even remotely possible…?
The Techie stared at the river and the fedora, and unleashed a howl of misery even more heart-wrenching than those he had unleashed before. That hadn’t been the Informant’s spirit calling to him for help; that had been the Informant-alive-crying out because he had been fighting vainly against the current of the East River, the water slowly but surely overpowering him! But… how on earth would the Recruiting Officer and the Rookie have allowed Search-and Rescue-net leave when he was still alive!? And where was the poor Informant.
The Techie stared at the broken crates. No… This was no accident. Someone had known the Informant was alive in the river. And now they had kidnapped him! And he, the Techie, had been standing by the water’s edge, not knowing he had been alive in there!? He was supposed to have such a close bond with his surrogate brother-why hadn’t he sensed it!? Or perhaps he had-perhaps that was why he had tried to jump in… But the fact that he didn’t go through with it surely meant that he had done something wrong… This was his fault-the Informant was suffering because of him!
His body was shaking with sobs, and he screamed as the Inspector and the Messenger placed their hands on his shoulders. But it wasn’t a scream of fear by any means-it was one of misery.
The Messenger saw the sight around them and cursed again, searching for any sort of clue as to who could’ve done this. The Inspector held the Techie close, his eyes burning with hatred towards them.
“Why would they take Infy!?” the Messenger demanded, fighting the urge to kick something. “And why were you here in the first place, Techie?”
“You weren’t going to try to find him yourself, were you…?” the Inspector asked.
“Yes, I was going to!” the Techie cried. “I couldn’t believe that he was dead… I wanted to find him… and say goodbye if it turned out that he was… but… I came to see this…”
“But it still doesn’t explain who did this, and why they wanted… what was left…” the Inspector said, not sure of what to say to his tormented friend.
“Because he didn’t leave…” the Techie sobbed.
The Messenger and the Inspector stared at him.
“Techie, what are you saying…?” asked the Messenger, horrified.
“Look!” the Techie wailed, pointing to red stains on the ground. “Look at that blood in there! And on his fedora!” He held the hat up to them. He then held up the piece of rope. “And look at this! They had to tie him up with rope so that he wouldn’t move-and he could only move if he was alive! He was alive-he was never dead!” The Techie was screaming now. “He was left to die out here because Schwemphf thought he was dead and sent Search-and-Rescue-net on their merry way! And… And now we don’t know where he is… or if he’s even still alive by this point…” He shook with sobs again. “We let it happen! We were standing right here when he was probably hearing us, trying to stay afloat, wondering why we weren’t helping him!”
The Messenger just stared at the hat that the Techie had given him.
“Techie…” said the Inspector, very calmly. “Think about this for a moment--”
“There’s no time to think about this!” the Techie cried. “We have to find him-and you have to believe me!”
“I don’t know what to believe,” the Inspector said. “But I want to believe that he is alive, and until we find out something that proves otherwise, I’m going to believe it-and you. But we need to think. We need to think about who could have taken him and why.”
“And how we’re going to deal with them when we find them,” added the Messenger, dangerously. He didn’t know what to believe, either, but he was going to hold onto any shred of hope that his younger brother was alive. But the very idea of him being alive… he would worry about how it was allowed to happen later; right now, the Inspector was right-they had to find the Informant!
“Let’s think about this logically…” the Inspector went on, hugging the Techie close. “Who out there hates him and would have the means to carry out something like this?”
“Infy has a lot of enemies…” the Messenger mumbled. “It’s not fair-he’d never hurt anyone…!”
“Let me put this in another way,” said the Inspector, as an idea came to him. “Who out there hates him to such an extent that they frequently attack him, and who are the master thieves who could get away with this theft since they’ve stolen bigger things…?”
The Techie’s eyes shot open, as did the Messenger’s, and the courier immediately yelled out oaths at V.I.L.E.
“Carmen took him…” the Techie gasped, horrified. “Carmen set this up… She knew he was alive… But how--?”
“We’ll worry about ‘how’ later,” said the Inspector. “Now we know who, and that’s one of the two most important things. The other thing we need to know is where.” He turned to the Messenger. “You once intercepted a piece of mail that was heading to Carmen’s headquarters. Do you remember--?”
“Pueblo, Colorado,” the Messenger replied, immediately.
“But would Carmen take him there?” asked the Techie. His gut feeling was telling him otherwise. But where else would she take him…? Oh, he didn’t know anymore! All he wanted by this time was to just hold his brother close and tell him that everything would be alright.
“I don’t know…” said the Inspector. “But it’s as good a place as any to begin… But you do realize one thing, don’t you? If the Informant was declared to have drowned here, and people saw the feedback from his communicator… Even the Recruiting Officer and the Rookie were convinced that he was dead… It means that no one will believe us if we tell them that he is alive.”
The Messenger nodded, his fists clenched.
“We’re on our own for this one…” he agreed. “But with the Chief telling us that we can take as long as we want off, no one will bother us. Let’s go-the sooner we find Infy, the sooner we can help him recover from this experience…” He trailed off, wondering in what sort of frightened, devastated state his brother was in.
The Techie continued to hold the fedora close to him.
“Hold on, little brother…” he whispered, aloud. “We’re coming… We’re coming to find you and take you home…”
**********************************
The Informant let out a yelp of pain that was muffled by the handkerchief over his mouth as he hit a hard wooden floor.
“Untie him, Eartha,” said Carmen. “And take those handkerchiefs off.”
The young agent looked up as the blindfold and gag were removed. He was surrounded by several members of V.I.L.E.-Eartha was untying his bonds while RoboCrook stood over him, glaring at him. Patty Larceny was staring at him, blinking back a few tears. Contessa stood by her, sneering, while Vic stood by her. Sarah Nade, bored, was rollerblading around the room, staring uneasily at the shadows crawling up and down the wall.
The Informant’s breath caught in his throat. He didn’t remember what had happened… How on earth had he ended up here!? He had bought a card for the Techie and was heading back to ACME when he had suddenly been attacked from behind. He remembered being in the river, but then it had all gone dark… And Carmen had said that the rest of ACME thought he was dead… Was that really true? Was there no one out there who was looking for him!?
The members of V.I.L.E. assembled there, with the exception of Patty, were seeing his fear and confusion as something amusing. The Informant drew himself to his knees as he looked around in his surroundings. He was in an old wooden house, and judging by the sounds of the wind and waves outside, they were close to the ocean.
“Hey…” said Sarah, hovering by the door. “Can’t we just park him here and split for the night? I’m getting’ the willies here-somethin’ ain’t right!”
Robocrook gave her a sidelong glance of exasperation. But he was the only one-the flesh and blood members of V.I.L.E all seemed uneasy about the house and all seemed ready to leave.
But that was the least of the Informant’s worries, for Carmen Sandiego was off to the side, having given Eartha her orders. And as the strongwoman retreated, Carmen stepped directly in front of the young agent’s line of vision.
He gasped as the lady clad in red knelt to one knee in order to get to eye level with him.
“Welcome, Dying Informant,” Carmen said. “to the Home by the Sea.”
Author/Artist: Crystal Rose of Pollux (rose_of_pollux)
Theme(s): 11; The truth never changes.
Character: the Dying Informant
Fandom: Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine (unless otherwise noted) and the story is!
Cross-posted to 31_days and my journal
Author’s note: I’ve made a very minor change to the first chapter-the river in question is now the East River, as opposed to the Hudson.
*********************************
“Little brother…?” the Techie whispered. A dream, his rational mind chided him. You were dreaming…
The brunet wiped the sweat off of his face. No… His very soul would not be hurting like this if it was just a dream! The Informant… He was crying for help… But why? Was he trapped between the planes again….!? Or was it even wildly possible that…
The Techie’s eyes widened in horror. He haphazardly changed back into his rain-soaked clothes and headed for an ACME car, for there was only one way he would be able to come to grips with his brother’s death: he would have to see him with his own eyes, forever asleep.
But… the dream… Oh, the very thought of him alive, still drowning…! Why hadn’t he insisted to the others that he had to go and find him… to say goodbye!?
A flash of lightning lit up the road ahead, and the Techie was turning through the streets, not sure how he was able to remember where he was going-perhaps his heart was leading him.
“Little brother!” he cried aloud. “What happened to you!?”
Sometimes, he recalled, ghosts and spirits stuck around because they did not know that they were dead. Was he really dead, but thinking that he was still alive…? Was that why he had been crying for help-because he was lost in an unfamiliar place… a different plane…?
He would be terrified-absolutely horrified! To find himself in a place so unknown, and all alone, too…!
The Techie held back another sob, wishing he could take his lost and tormented brother in his arms and tell him that everything would be alright. But even he didn’t know if he could make such a promise… He didn’t even know if he would be able to hold him at all!
“I’ll find you…” he promised aloud. “I’ll help you…go where you need to…” He trembled as he took another turn, driving up to the East River. “But… I’d give anything for you to stay…”
He hobbled alongside the banks, walking down them, trying to see any sign of his missing brother.
“But first… I need proof that you’re gone…” the Techie went on, with a sob. “I didn’t want to believe it! I didn’t-I swear! It all happened so fast… But I wanted to hold on to the hope that you were…”
He trailed off, horrified as his flashlight beam landed on disturbed area of the bank. Crates and dirt were littering the place, as though there had been a struggle, but the place was now completely empty, save for a single, soaking-wet black fedora that lay nondescript by the banks.
The brunet let out a tormented howl as he crashed to his knees, clutching his head in both hands. That fedora… it had to be the Informant’s fedora…! But this wasn’t where the Rookie and the Recruiting Officer had placed the flowers… What if… what if…!?
“Little brother!” he cried, desperately, as though expecting the lost boy to reply him. “Little brother!?”
Who would take his… his drowned form!? And why!? Oh, the possible ideas made the Techie feel like fainting…
But the question remain… who…? No… no human could be behind this atrocity! What could have done this to the Informant!? The Techie would not know… He would most like never know… Never knowing what happened to his younger brother, who had truly lain in this spot… And he knew he had lain there, for the brunet had taken the fedora in his hands, and by feeling it, had known that the Informant had worn it.
Where was the boy lying now!? Was he going to be brought back as some mindless zombie…? Had that been what the Informant’s spirit had been crying out to stop!?
The Techie cried out again as his communicator went off, for the Messenger and the Inspector had felt arrows strike them next, and had gone to the next room to see the Techie missing.
“Techie, where are you!?” the Inspector’s voice asked.
The Techie replied with an unintelligible wail.
“…You’re at the riverside, aren’t you…?” the Messenger asked, softly.
“They took him!” the Techie cried. “Someone fished him out and stole him!”
The silence on the other line was deafening, but, finally there was a loud thump-the Messenger had fallen to his knees, praying to whatever force was out there that he had just misheard the Techie’s words.
“Can you say that again…?” asked the Inspector, also praying that this was some sort of twisted nightmare and nothing more.
“They stole his… They stole him!” the Techie howled, slamming his fists into the pier. “And I wasn’t there to help him… to stop them!”
The Messenger cursed the unknown perpetrators angrily
“Techie, stay right there; we’re coming right now,” said the Inspector. His voice was calm, but obviously full of rage.
The Techie didn’t reply; he continued to clutch the fedora, sobbing, when something caught his eye. Beside one of the broken crates was an odd object-part of a rope, which had been cut from a larger piece.
The brunet took the piece of rope in his hand, wondering what on earth it was doing here. He glanced back at the fedora in his other hand, blinking as a flash of lightning illuminated a dark stain on the black hat’s brim, discoloring it slightly. But… what could cause such a stain-one that was not there on the hat before? And did the rope have anything at all to do with this…?
The Techie glanced at the two objects in his hand, his eyes widening as the frightening possibilities were beginning to form. He glanced back at the ground as another flash of lightning lit it up, and that was when he caught a glimpse of a few small, barely visible red stains. And as the Techie stared at them, his mind could only focus on one fact: the stains were fresh; what had transpired here had not occurred more than hour ago, if not in lesser time.
The brunet stared at the fedora, and then at the rope. Could it be…? Was it even remotely possible…?
The Techie stared at the river and the fedora, and unleashed a howl of misery even more heart-wrenching than those he had unleashed before. That hadn’t been the Informant’s spirit calling to him for help; that had been the Informant-alive-crying out because he had been fighting vainly against the current of the East River, the water slowly but surely overpowering him! But… how on earth would the Recruiting Officer and the Rookie have allowed Search-and Rescue-net leave when he was still alive!? And where was the poor Informant.
The Techie stared at the broken crates. No… This was no accident. Someone had known the Informant was alive in the river. And now they had kidnapped him! And he, the Techie, had been standing by the water’s edge, not knowing he had been alive in there!? He was supposed to have such a close bond with his surrogate brother-why hadn’t he sensed it!? Or perhaps he had-perhaps that was why he had tried to jump in… But the fact that he didn’t go through with it surely meant that he had done something wrong… This was his fault-the Informant was suffering because of him!
His body was shaking with sobs, and he screamed as the Inspector and the Messenger placed their hands on his shoulders. But it wasn’t a scream of fear by any means-it was one of misery.
The Messenger saw the sight around them and cursed again, searching for any sort of clue as to who could’ve done this. The Inspector held the Techie close, his eyes burning with hatred towards them.
“Why would they take Infy!?” the Messenger demanded, fighting the urge to kick something. “And why were you here in the first place, Techie?”
“You weren’t going to try to find him yourself, were you…?” the Inspector asked.
“Yes, I was going to!” the Techie cried. “I couldn’t believe that he was dead… I wanted to find him… and say goodbye if it turned out that he was… but… I came to see this…”
“But it still doesn’t explain who did this, and why they wanted… what was left…” the Inspector said, not sure of what to say to his tormented friend.
“Because he didn’t leave…” the Techie sobbed.
The Messenger and the Inspector stared at him.
“Techie, what are you saying…?” asked the Messenger, horrified.
“Look!” the Techie wailed, pointing to red stains on the ground. “Look at that blood in there! And on his fedora!” He held the hat up to them. He then held up the piece of rope. “And look at this! They had to tie him up with rope so that he wouldn’t move-and he could only move if he was alive! He was alive-he was never dead!” The Techie was screaming now. “He was left to die out here because Schwemphf thought he was dead and sent Search-and-Rescue-net on their merry way! And… And now we don’t know where he is… or if he’s even still alive by this point…” He shook with sobs again. “We let it happen! We were standing right here when he was probably hearing us, trying to stay afloat, wondering why we weren’t helping him!”
The Messenger just stared at the hat that the Techie had given him.
“Techie…” said the Inspector, very calmly. “Think about this for a moment--”
“There’s no time to think about this!” the Techie cried. “We have to find him-and you have to believe me!”
“I don’t know what to believe,” the Inspector said. “But I want to believe that he is alive, and until we find out something that proves otherwise, I’m going to believe it-and you. But we need to think. We need to think about who could have taken him and why.”
“And how we’re going to deal with them when we find them,” added the Messenger, dangerously. He didn’t know what to believe, either, but he was going to hold onto any shred of hope that his younger brother was alive. But the very idea of him being alive… he would worry about how it was allowed to happen later; right now, the Inspector was right-they had to find the Informant!
“Let’s think about this logically…” the Inspector went on, hugging the Techie close. “Who out there hates him and would have the means to carry out something like this?”
“Infy has a lot of enemies…” the Messenger mumbled. “It’s not fair-he’d never hurt anyone…!”
“Let me put this in another way,” said the Inspector, as an idea came to him. “Who out there hates him to such an extent that they frequently attack him, and who are the master thieves who could get away with this theft since they’ve stolen bigger things…?”
The Techie’s eyes shot open, as did the Messenger’s, and the courier immediately yelled out oaths at V.I.L.E.
“Carmen took him…” the Techie gasped, horrified. “Carmen set this up… She knew he was alive… But how--?”
“We’ll worry about ‘how’ later,” said the Inspector. “Now we know who, and that’s one of the two most important things. The other thing we need to know is where.” He turned to the Messenger. “You once intercepted a piece of mail that was heading to Carmen’s headquarters. Do you remember--?”
“Pueblo, Colorado,” the Messenger replied, immediately.
“But would Carmen take him there?” asked the Techie. His gut feeling was telling him otherwise. But where else would she take him…? Oh, he didn’t know anymore! All he wanted by this time was to just hold his brother close and tell him that everything would be alright.
“I don’t know…” said the Inspector. “But it’s as good a place as any to begin… But you do realize one thing, don’t you? If the Informant was declared to have drowned here, and people saw the feedback from his communicator… Even the Recruiting Officer and the Rookie were convinced that he was dead… It means that no one will believe us if we tell them that he is alive.”
The Messenger nodded, his fists clenched.
“We’re on our own for this one…” he agreed. “But with the Chief telling us that we can take as long as we want off, no one will bother us. Let’s go-the sooner we find Infy, the sooner we can help him recover from this experience…” He trailed off, wondering in what sort of frightened, devastated state his brother was in.
The Techie continued to hold the fedora close to him.
“Hold on, little brother…” he whispered, aloud. “We’re coming… We’re coming to find you and take you home…”
**********************************
The Informant let out a yelp of pain that was muffled by the handkerchief over his mouth as he hit a hard wooden floor.
“Untie him, Eartha,” said Carmen. “And take those handkerchiefs off.”
The young agent looked up as the blindfold and gag were removed. He was surrounded by several members of V.I.L.E.-Eartha was untying his bonds while RoboCrook stood over him, glaring at him. Patty Larceny was staring at him, blinking back a few tears. Contessa stood by her, sneering, while Vic stood by her. Sarah Nade, bored, was rollerblading around the room, staring uneasily at the shadows crawling up and down the wall.
The Informant’s breath caught in his throat. He didn’t remember what had happened… How on earth had he ended up here!? He had bought a card for the Techie and was heading back to ACME when he had suddenly been attacked from behind. He remembered being in the river, but then it had all gone dark… And Carmen had said that the rest of ACME thought he was dead… Was that really true? Was there no one out there who was looking for him!?
The members of V.I.L.E. assembled there, with the exception of Patty, were seeing his fear and confusion as something amusing. The Informant drew himself to his knees as he looked around in his surroundings. He was in an old wooden house, and judging by the sounds of the wind and waves outside, they were close to the ocean.
“Hey…” said Sarah, hovering by the door. “Can’t we just park him here and split for the night? I’m getting’ the willies here-somethin’ ain’t right!”
Robocrook gave her a sidelong glance of exasperation. But he was the only one-the flesh and blood members of V.I.L.E all seemed uneasy about the house and all seemed ready to leave.
But that was the least of the Informant’s worries, for Carmen Sandiego was off to the side, having given Eartha her orders. And as the strongwoman retreated, Carmen stepped directly in front of the young agent’s line of vision.
He gasped as the lady clad in red knelt to one knee in order to get to eye level with him.
“Welcome, Dying Informant,” Carmen said. “to the Home by the Sea.”