Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego, Home by the Sea, Ch 4 (Dying Informant, 12)
Title: Home by the Sea, chapter 4: Let Me Out of Here!
Author/Artist: Crystal Rose of Pollux (rose_of_pollux)
Theme(s): 12; Resistance is futile.
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
The Informant tried his best to remain brave in the face of the V.I.L.E. agents surrounding him, but Carmen’s gaze was unnerving; she undoubtedly did not forgive him for the time E.M.C.A. had forged orders for him to work as a double agent. Was that why she had brought him here? No; she wouldn’t try so hard for something like that. This was, undoubtedly, some ploy to get information from him! As ACME’s top Informant, he had knowledge that could make or break the agency, depending on who else knew it.
“You’ll never get anything out of me,” he vowed.
“Why don’t you show us a little gratitude?” asked Carmen. “We saved your life. Your precious friends at leaved you to drown; you’re dead to them.”
“You’re lying!” the Informant shot back. He would never believe it-never! His friends would never betray him like that!
“Weren’t you warned in your younger years that you couldn’t trust anyone?” asked Carmen. “That friends a lie, and would not really be true to you?”
The young agent froze. How… How would she know about what had happened in the past? Those words had been between him and that creep, who had gone by the name of Adelo. In his younger years, the Informant had wanted to be a part of Adelo’s crowd, and at first, it seemed like Adelo had accepted the boy into his clique. But the truth came to light when an ill-timed prank led to the collapse of a roof, and Adelo’s unwillingness to save him when he had been trapped by debris and flame…
The Informant had never seen Adelo after that, but he had lost all faith in other people… Until he met the Techie, who helped him open up to the Inspector and then finally the Messenger… But they were the only ones (besides Adelo, of course) who knew about what he had done. How did Carmen know?
“No one came to help you… Not even that clumsy Techie,” said Patty. “And especially not that awful Messenger! They stood by and watched you being thrown in the water! Who knows what would’ve happened if we hadn’t come along when we did…?”
“You were the ones who gave me that drug that knocked me out and masked my vital signs!” the Informant retorted. “Why should I believe you!?”
“We didn’t administer the drug to you,” Carmen said. “But we knew of it. It was one of the aides of a very gifted chemist who drugged you, Dying Informant; we’d been studying his inventions for a while now. I still say that Dr. Mendoza’s serum is remarkable. He is almost as gifted a chemist as the Vulsor family.
“It’s very fortunate that Patty here found out about Dr. Mendoza’s plan to try his serum out on you. So we decided to bring you here, rescuing you from the fate that your so-called friends abandoned you to.” She smiled to herself; she wasn’t telling the whole truth-she had heard that ACME Search-and-Rescue-Net infiltrated by yet another party, but she saw no reason to tell the Informant that.
“Wow, I’m so grateful…” the young agent replied, sarcastically. “And what do you want from me? I’m certain you didn’t rescue me to ensure my well-being.”
“Well, when opportunity knocks, we answer…” Carmen said. “I’m sure you can guess why we would save you.”
“Either to defect from ACME or get some information out of me…” the boy said. “Neither of which will work.”
“You are most perceptive,” Carmen said.
“Don’t patronize me…” the Informant said, glaring at her. “You may as well save us all a lot of trouble and just let me go.”
“I don’t think so…” the lady in red replied. “ACME is the only organization capable of stopping V.I.L.E. E.M.C.A is no threat; Conrad Knuckle has his own wild ideas that will take him absolutely nowhere. But if we take down ACME, V.I.L.E.’s goals will finally be within reach. Using you as a bargaining chip is useless; ACME has abandoned you, Dying Informant. Perhaps you should abandon them and align yourself with the winning side.”
“Looks like the information I have is very important to you…” the young ACME agent said. “But even if they have abandoned me…” His heart twisted at the thought. “I will not betray them. Let it be known that the Dying Informant was loyal to ACME until the very end.”
“You do realize that you’ll be staying here in this old, abandoned house for a very long time if you do not speak,” said Carmen, her arms folded. “The more you talk, the better we can make things for you. But if you do not, things can only get worse. You will not leave this house until you have told us what we want to know.”
“Then get me a change of address form,” said the Informant. “Because I’m not talking. I won’t let you hurt them.”
“Carmen…!” Vic said, nervously. “It’s five minutes to midnight; that guy said--”
“I am aware of that,” Carmen said. “Move out. I’ll be with you. Robo, I want you here at the crack of dawn.”
“Of course…” the android replied, following the others.
“You’re leaving me in this place unguarded…?” the Informant asked, incredulously.
“Come midnight, you’ll understand why,” Carmen said. “Perhaps a night in the Home by the Sea is what you need to realize the position you’re in. I’ll see you in the morning, Dying Informant… assuming you’ve lasted that long.”
She left the room, leaving behind Patty, who was looking as though she wanted to say something.
“Patty…” Carmen said, sternly. The blonde girl followed her aunt, glancing back at the Informant, who looked absolutely puzzled.
“Okay…” he said, aloud. “This is no big deal… Carmen’s gone crazy… I’ll just wait a couple minutes for them to leave and mosey on out of here…” He would try going home-he would have to see for his own eyes that he was unmissed and unloved. He knew it would all be a lie… And if it wasn’t, well… he didn’t want to think about that.
He groaned in pain as he realized that the idea was tougher than he first imagined it to be. His body was still aching and tired, not to mention that he was still a little sluggish from the aftereffects of the serum he had been given. Why did that name Mendoza sound so familiar? Well, he had plenty of time to worry about that later; he had to get out of here first!
He shakily got to his feet and hobbled and limped towards the open window. He tried to stave off the vertigo as he looked out, trying to gauge how far above ground he was. It was a three-story house overlooking the sea, and he was in a top floor bedroom.
It would take far too long for him to go down the stairs… And in his weakened state, he doubted that he could make it down the stairs without falling.
He glanced back at the shabby, old bedroom. There was a wooden cot with a moth-eaten mattress, and a few sheets. Well, it may be an old cliché, but his best bet would be to make a rope from the sheets and try climbing down that way.
He was idly whistling as he pulled the top sheet off of the bed. A trio of mice squeaked in protest and leaped off of the bed, scurrying all over the room. The Informant gave them an apologetic look and was starting to tie the sheets together when a grandfather clock on another room struck twelve and the open window slammed shut, causing the boy to jump.
“This’d be the perfect house to film a monster movie in…” he mused, as he crossed to the window again to reopen it. He frowned as it did not move-and even though he unlocked the window, it refused to again.
“Okay, fine…” he said, taking the sheets to another room. The window was open in there, thankfully.
But as he approached it, the window slammed shut like the previous one. The Informant’s eyes widened as he saw the lock move of its own accord. He tried unlocking it, but the lock would not budge. Now beginning to get concerned, he headed back to the room he had woken up in, grabbing the rest of the sheets. He had to get out of here!
Guys, where are you!? he thought, desperately trying to reach out to his brothers. Can’t you hear me at all!? Or are you really not answering…?
He scanned the room, noticing an old wooden desk and chair beside the bed. He seized the chair and hurled it at the window with whatever strength he had remaining.
Ordinarily, the chair would’ve smashed right through the window, but it did not-it bounced off, and then began floating in midair as a chill wind began to blow throughout the interior of the house. Shapeless masses began to move in the dim light of the flashlight that V.I.L.E. had left behind-masses that seemed to be circling him, coming closer with each resolution.
Suddenly, it was becoming clear as to what Carmen had meant about the house.
And now the Informant screamed.
**********************************
The Techie had been in a fitful sleep, but gasped as he awakened now.
“Little brother…?” he asked. He looked around. He, the Messenger, and the Inspector were on an ACME plane, having convinced the pilot that they absolutely had to get to Colorado. The pilot thought that they were so upset in their grief, they didn’t know what they were doing, but he didn’t have the heart to refuse them. Though he found it very odd that they hadn’t taken any suitcases with them…
The Inspector blinked, glancing at the Techie as he wiped the sweat pouring from his face.
“Techie…?” he asked, softly.
“It’s Infy, isn’t it…?” asked the Messenger, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“I heard him scream…” the Techie said. “Whenever I fall asleep, I can hear what he’s thinking or saying…”
The others swallowed hard.
“And he was screaming…?” the Messenger asked.
The Techie nodded, trembling with suppressed sobs.
“Was it a scream of pain, or--?” the Inspector began.
“Fear,” the Techie replied, immediately. “He’s terrified… Something is really scaring him…” This time, he could not hold back a sob. “And… the worst part is while I can hear him, he can’t seem to hear me. I can’t tell him that we know he’s alive, and that we’re coming to save him… that he’s going to be coming home…”
“We’ll all keep trying…” said the Inspector. “Maybe if we all concentrate, we can get through clear enough…”
“No, that won’t make a difference…” sighed the Techie. “I can hear him loud and clear. I can feel the hurt he’s feeling. He wouldn’t be so scared and so hurt if he could only realize that I was trying to contact him…!”
And now a horrible thought crossed his mind. Why was the Informant screaming like that!? What were they putting him through!? If they were trying to extract information from him, he would most likely never talk, and out of frustration, they might drive him to insanity in their attempts to get whatever they could from him…
And then there was Patty. She would do everything in her power to try to win his heart back. And if the Informant believed that no one was coming to rescue him, there was every chance in the world that Patty would try to convince him to join V.I.L.E., and out of sheer emptiness, he might go along with the whole idea…
“I hate them…” he said, tears coursing down his face. “I hate V.I.L.E. and anyone else who’s behind this…!”
“Techie…” said the Messenger, drawing his arm across his shoulders.
“Why couldn’t I have gotten there in time to stop them!?” he cried. “Why couldn’t I have listened to what my heart was telling me and jump in the water and look for him!?”
The Inspector flinched; they were the ones who had stopped him from jumping. The Techie’s sixth sense was usually spot on, and if they had even the slightest inkling that it had been a premonition, they would have undoubtedly let him proceed-and help him in his task. And the Informant would’ve been saved. He still would’ve been traumatized, but at least he would’ve been with them now!
But they had mistaken the Techie’s intuition for grief. And it was a mistake that was going to haunt them for a long time to come…
They weren’t going to make the same mistake again by not trusting the Techie’s intuition. Even though they had no concrete evidence to support his claim that the Informant was alive, they could all feel him in their hearts. And they could sense his pain-none more so than the Techie, of course.
“I wonder why he can’t hear you…” said the Messenger, nearly ill with worry. His face was pale, but he said nothing about how he was feeling. The Informant would be feeling tenfold worse. “Why is it only a one-way connection…?”
The Techie remembered the plea he had heard.
Guys, where are you!? Can’t you hear me at all!? Or are you really not answering…?
The Techie drew a shuddering breath.
“He’s losing faith in us… No doubt due to lies that Patty and Carmen are telling him,” he fumed. “But maybe we deserve this… We weren’t there for him to stop this from happening… Even when we were right next to where he was floundering, we were still too blind…”
“Do you think that… Infy blames us for what happened…?” asked the Messenger.
The Techie glanced at him, horrified, as did the Inspector.
“He would’ve been banking on us to bail him out of something like this…” the Inspector said. “But even in his darkest hours, he would never blame us.”
“He’d blame himself…” the Techie said. “He’d think that he’d done something to make us hate him…”
The others both had to agree with this, and they lapsed into silence until the Messenger clenched a fist.
“I say we try the Inspector’s idea-all three of us reaching out to him,” he said. “It can’t hurt. It can only help.”
The Techie nodded, and the three began to focus on their lost brother, each praying in his own way that this would somehow work, and that he would soon be reunited with them.
Author/Artist: Crystal Rose of Pollux (rose_of_pollux)
Theme(s): 12; Resistance is futile.
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
The Informant tried his best to remain brave in the face of the V.I.L.E. agents surrounding him, but Carmen’s gaze was unnerving; she undoubtedly did not forgive him for the time E.M.C.A. had forged orders for him to work as a double agent. Was that why she had brought him here? No; she wouldn’t try so hard for something like that. This was, undoubtedly, some ploy to get information from him! As ACME’s top Informant, he had knowledge that could make or break the agency, depending on who else knew it.
“You’ll never get anything out of me,” he vowed.
“Why don’t you show us a little gratitude?” asked Carmen. “We saved your life. Your precious friends at leaved you to drown; you’re dead to them.”
“You’re lying!” the Informant shot back. He would never believe it-never! His friends would never betray him like that!
“Weren’t you warned in your younger years that you couldn’t trust anyone?” asked Carmen. “That friends a lie, and would not really be true to you?”
The young agent froze. How… How would she know about what had happened in the past? Those words had been between him and that creep, who had gone by the name of Adelo. In his younger years, the Informant had wanted to be a part of Adelo’s crowd, and at first, it seemed like Adelo had accepted the boy into his clique. But the truth came to light when an ill-timed prank led to the collapse of a roof, and Adelo’s unwillingness to save him when he had been trapped by debris and flame…
The Informant had never seen Adelo after that, but he had lost all faith in other people… Until he met the Techie, who helped him open up to the Inspector and then finally the Messenger… But they were the only ones (besides Adelo, of course) who knew about what he had done. How did Carmen know?
“No one came to help you… Not even that clumsy Techie,” said Patty. “And especially not that awful Messenger! They stood by and watched you being thrown in the water! Who knows what would’ve happened if we hadn’t come along when we did…?”
“You were the ones who gave me that drug that knocked me out and masked my vital signs!” the Informant retorted. “Why should I believe you!?”
“We didn’t administer the drug to you,” Carmen said. “But we knew of it. It was one of the aides of a very gifted chemist who drugged you, Dying Informant; we’d been studying his inventions for a while now. I still say that Dr. Mendoza’s serum is remarkable. He is almost as gifted a chemist as the Vulsor family.
“It’s very fortunate that Patty here found out about Dr. Mendoza’s plan to try his serum out on you. So we decided to bring you here, rescuing you from the fate that your so-called friends abandoned you to.” She smiled to herself; she wasn’t telling the whole truth-she had heard that ACME Search-and-Rescue-Net infiltrated by yet another party, but she saw no reason to tell the Informant that.
“Wow, I’m so grateful…” the young agent replied, sarcastically. “And what do you want from me? I’m certain you didn’t rescue me to ensure my well-being.”
“Well, when opportunity knocks, we answer…” Carmen said. “I’m sure you can guess why we would save you.”
“Either to defect from ACME or get some information out of me…” the boy said. “Neither of which will work.”
“You are most perceptive,” Carmen said.
“Don’t patronize me…” the Informant said, glaring at her. “You may as well save us all a lot of trouble and just let me go.”
“I don’t think so…” the lady in red replied. “ACME is the only organization capable of stopping V.I.L.E. E.M.C.A is no threat; Conrad Knuckle has his own wild ideas that will take him absolutely nowhere. But if we take down ACME, V.I.L.E.’s goals will finally be within reach. Using you as a bargaining chip is useless; ACME has abandoned you, Dying Informant. Perhaps you should abandon them and align yourself with the winning side.”
“Looks like the information I have is very important to you…” the young ACME agent said. “But even if they have abandoned me…” His heart twisted at the thought. “I will not betray them. Let it be known that the Dying Informant was loyal to ACME until the very end.”
“You do realize that you’ll be staying here in this old, abandoned house for a very long time if you do not speak,” said Carmen, her arms folded. “The more you talk, the better we can make things for you. But if you do not, things can only get worse. You will not leave this house until you have told us what we want to know.”
“Then get me a change of address form,” said the Informant. “Because I’m not talking. I won’t let you hurt them.”
“Carmen…!” Vic said, nervously. “It’s five minutes to midnight; that guy said--”
“I am aware of that,” Carmen said. “Move out. I’ll be with you. Robo, I want you here at the crack of dawn.”
“Of course…” the android replied, following the others.
“You’re leaving me in this place unguarded…?” the Informant asked, incredulously.
“Come midnight, you’ll understand why,” Carmen said. “Perhaps a night in the Home by the Sea is what you need to realize the position you’re in. I’ll see you in the morning, Dying Informant… assuming you’ve lasted that long.”
She left the room, leaving behind Patty, who was looking as though she wanted to say something.
“Patty…” Carmen said, sternly. The blonde girl followed her aunt, glancing back at the Informant, who looked absolutely puzzled.
“Okay…” he said, aloud. “This is no big deal… Carmen’s gone crazy… I’ll just wait a couple minutes for them to leave and mosey on out of here…” He would try going home-he would have to see for his own eyes that he was unmissed and unloved. He knew it would all be a lie… And if it wasn’t, well… he didn’t want to think about that.
He groaned in pain as he realized that the idea was tougher than he first imagined it to be. His body was still aching and tired, not to mention that he was still a little sluggish from the aftereffects of the serum he had been given. Why did that name Mendoza sound so familiar? Well, he had plenty of time to worry about that later; he had to get out of here first!
He shakily got to his feet and hobbled and limped towards the open window. He tried to stave off the vertigo as he looked out, trying to gauge how far above ground he was. It was a three-story house overlooking the sea, and he was in a top floor bedroom.
It would take far too long for him to go down the stairs… And in his weakened state, he doubted that he could make it down the stairs without falling.
He glanced back at the shabby, old bedroom. There was a wooden cot with a moth-eaten mattress, and a few sheets. Well, it may be an old cliché, but his best bet would be to make a rope from the sheets and try climbing down that way.
He was idly whistling as he pulled the top sheet off of the bed. A trio of mice squeaked in protest and leaped off of the bed, scurrying all over the room. The Informant gave them an apologetic look and was starting to tie the sheets together when a grandfather clock on another room struck twelve and the open window slammed shut, causing the boy to jump.
“This’d be the perfect house to film a monster movie in…” he mused, as he crossed to the window again to reopen it. He frowned as it did not move-and even though he unlocked the window, it refused to again.
“Okay, fine…” he said, taking the sheets to another room. The window was open in there, thankfully.
But as he approached it, the window slammed shut like the previous one. The Informant’s eyes widened as he saw the lock move of its own accord. He tried unlocking it, but the lock would not budge. Now beginning to get concerned, he headed back to the room he had woken up in, grabbing the rest of the sheets. He had to get out of here!
Guys, where are you!? he thought, desperately trying to reach out to his brothers. Can’t you hear me at all!? Or are you really not answering…?
He scanned the room, noticing an old wooden desk and chair beside the bed. He seized the chair and hurled it at the window with whatever strength he had remaining.
Ordinarily, the chair would’ve smashed right through the window, but it did not-it bounced off, and then began floating in midair as a chill wind began to blow throughout the interior of the house. Shapeless masses began to move in the dim light of the flashlight that V.I.L.E. had left behind-masses that seemed to be circling him, coming closer with each resolution.
Suddenly, it was becoming clear as to what Carmen had meant about the house.
And now the Informant screamed.
**********************************
The Techie had been in a fitful sleep, but gasped as he awakened now.
“Little brother…?” he asked. He looked around. He, the Messenger, and the Inspector were on an ACME plane, having convinced the pilot that they absolutely had to get to Colorado. The pilot thought that they were so upset in their grief, they didn’t know what they were doing, but he didn’t have the heart to refuse them. Though he found it very odd that they hadn’t taken any suitcases with them…
The Inspector blinked, glancing at the Techie as he wiped the sweat pouring from his face.
“Techie…?” he asked, softly.
“It’s Infy, isn’t it…?” asked the Messenger, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“I heard him scream…” the Techie said. “Whenever I fall asleep, I can hear what he’s thinking or saying…”
The others swallowed hard.
“And he was screaming…?” the Messenger asked.
The Techie nodded, trembling with suppressed sobs.
“Was it a scream of pain, or--?” the Inspector began.
“Fear,” the Techie replied, immediately. “He’s terrified… Something is really scaring him…” This time, he could not hold back a sob. “And… the worst part is while I can hear him, he can’t seem to hear me. I can’t tell him that we know he’s alive, and that we’re coming to save him… that he’s going to be coming home…”
“We’ll all keep trying…” said the Inspector. “Maybe if we all concentrate, we can get through clear enough…”
“No, that won’t make a difference…” sighed the Techie. “I can hear him loud and clear. I can feel the hurt he’s feeling. He wouldn’t be so scared and so hurt if he could only realize that I was trying to contact him…!”
And now a horrible thought crossed his mind. Why was the Informant screaming like that!? What were they putting him through!? If they were trying to extract information from him, he would most likely never talk, and out of frustration, they might drive him to insanity in their attempts to get whatever they could from him…
And then there was Patty. She would do everything in her power to try to win his heart back. And if the Informant believed that no one was coming to rescue him, there was every chance in the world that Patty would try to convince him to join V.I.L.E., and out of sheer emptiness, he might go along with the whole idea…
“I hate them…” he said, tears coursing down his face. “I hate V.I.L.E. and anyone else who’s behind this…!”
“Techie…” said the Messenger, drawing his arm across his shoulders.
“Why couldn’t I have gotten there in time to stop them!?” he cried. “Why couldn’t I have listened to what my heart was telling me and jump in the water and look for him!?”
The Inspector flinched; they were the ones who had stopped him from jumping. The Techie’s sixth sense was usually spot on, and if they had even the slightest inkling that it had been a premonition, they would have undoubtedly let him proceed-and help him in his task. And the Informant would’ve been saved. He still would’ve been traumatized, but at least he would’ve been with them now!
But they had mistaken the Techie’s intuition for grief. And it was a mistake that was going to haunt them for a long time to come…
They weren’t going to make the same mistake again by not trusting the Techie’s intuition. Even though they had no concrete evidence to support his claim that the Informant was alive, they could all feel him in their hearts. And they could sense his pain-none more so than the Techie, of course.
“I wonder why he can’t hear you…” said the Messenger, nearly ill with worry. His face was pale, but he said nothing about how he was feeling. The Informant would be feeling tenfold worse. “Why is it only a one-way connection…?”
The Techie remembered the plea he had heard.
Guys, where are you!? Can’t you hear me at all!? Or are you really not answering…?
The Techie drew a shuddering breath.
“He’s losing faith in us… No doubt due to lies that Patty and Carmen are telling him,” he fumed. “But maybe we deserve this… We weren’t there for him to stop this from happening… Even when we were right next to where he was floundering, we were still too blind…”
“Do you think that… Infy blames us for what happened…?” asked the Messenger.
The Techie glanced at him, horrified, as did the Inspector.
“He would’ve been banking on us to bail him out of something like this…” the Inspector said. “But even in his darkest hours, he would never blame us.”
“He’d blame himself…” the Techie said. “He’d think that he’d done something to make us hate him…”
The others both had to agree with this, and they lapsed into silence until the Messenger clenched a fist.
“I say we try the Inspector’s idea-all three of us reaching out to him,” he said. “It can’t hurt. It can only help.”
The Techie nodded, and the three began to focus on their lost brother, each praying in his own way that this would somehow work, and that he would soon be reunited with them.