Two: Investigated

Paul Morton is being investigated, but what exactly was his crime?

The room wasn’t nearly as dark for the cat as it was for his master. He lay there on the floor, licking his paw, as he listened to the clicking noises that came from Master’s chair. This meant that Master was sitting in it, though the chair was facing the opposite direction, and that he was about to hear the voices again. Another click, and as he expected, the voices began.

“Please state your name for the record.”

“Paul Morton.”

“Now Paul, you understand that this interview is being recorded for investigative purposes and you consent to this recording, is that correct?”

“I already told you yes, and you still haven’t answered my question. Who are you?”

“I’m from the FBI, that’s all you need to know.”

“All I need to know? What is all this? We work very closely with the FBI and I don’t recognize you.”

“That’s because I’m not a part of the liaison branch that works with the BPR. I’m a sort of Internal Affairs for the Bureaus.”

“For all of them?”

“That’s right.”

“So that explains why you kidnapped me.”

“No, Paul, I read you your rights, remember?”

“Barely, your guys bloodied me up pretty badly.”

“You fought.”

“Because I didn’t know I was being taken in by Feds! One second I was jogging for my morning exercise, and the next second I’m being chased down by people in suits! The Romanian Mafia has it in for me, you know!”

“We shouted quite clearly who we were.”

There was a snorting sound. “While I had music plugged into the sides of my head? I commend your brilliance.”

“Can we move on now, Paul?”

“I suppose. What would you like to know?”

“First, I would like to know why you broke both protocol and the treaty, making demands of the Court of Madness.”

“Because my superior ordered me to.”

“Cethin Garnok is retired, and his sanity is… questionable.”

“Coming from the guy who’s getting on my case about contacting the Court of Madness.”

“Not for contacting them, for making demands.”

“Regardless, I wasn’t sure how to handle a situation that had fallen into my lap, so I called someone who I could trust.”

“And what was that situation?”

“Boone, Iowa.”

“Ah, so you’re telling me that a citywide massacre that occurred five states away led you to break the most important treaty the Unified Colonies of America has ever had. Interesting.”

“It damn well is a bit more than interesting. It was necessary.”

“To place Earth in danger?”

“We were damned if I hadn’t. Have you seen the security tapes?”

“Yes, some think that the ritualistic event that occurred on those tapes was done deliberately.”

“You mean a hoax? Nobody’s that good.”

“Then please, divulge your point of view.”

“Well the girl’s throat was clearly torn out, if you look closely, the body was definitely dead by the time it climbed down from the altar. And I’m sure you saw that wolf, the black one.”

“Yes, I saw him.”

“If that were a costume, you’d be able to tell. It would be too baggy or too tight, it could rip without the wearer noticing and we might be able to see it. You should be able to see the seams in a costume. There are just way too many things that could go wrong but didn’t.”

“With the exception of Derek Shepherd.”

“Yeah.”

“Mr. Morton are you expecting me to believe in werewolves?”

“Why not, you believe in magic, don’t you?”

“I can’t say that I do.”

“But I can. Psionics touches base with every single one of the fundamentals that make up Direct Magical Theory. The only people who can enter my Bureau are those who have damn near mastered the basic psionic skills.”

“Which would be?”

“Basic constructs, such as psi balls and shields. Telepathy, empathy, advanced constructs such as psipets and messengers. Even psychokinesis. Some of our more advanced agents can do things like remote viewing, and phasing.”

“So what you’re telling me is that werewolves slaughtered the town, were all killed off by Mr. Shepherd, and this gave you cause to interfere with the Court?”

“It’s quite a bit more than that. Keep in mind I have a bigger oath to uphold than a simple treaty.”

“And what would that be?”

“The Psion’s Creed.”

“Well then, perhaps you should tell me the whole story. I’ll listen quietly, I promise.” 

There was another click and the voices were gone.  The cat waltzed over to the chair, jumped up, and plopped himself down on Master’s lap. Master stroked his head and pushed another button. A whirring noise followed, continued for a moment, then stopped with yet another click. 

“Please state your name for the record.”

“Paul Morton.”