Page 46 of Captured By the Scaled Outlaw
A sigh rumbles from Lowell’s chest, annoyed. “Your department was the only one that stood to lose anything. Who said the military knew?”
My eyes nearly pop out of my head. “You’re suggesting that a bunch of scientists committed a literal crime against the allied cities?”
“If the military were involved, there wouldn’t have been any survivors. You and I both know that.” A satisfied smirk sits across his lips.
Blood drains from my face. My headache morphs into a hammering so powerful it feels like my face is trying to flee from my skull.
“The second attempt at the project was in retaliation? To punish you all?”
Lowell shakes his head. “No. Better yet: money. The pipeline was, and is, the largest revenue stream for Nilsan. Killing us off for revenge was just a bonus.”
The pieces from the Misya Swamp project that never made sense now begin to connect at the joints, and the picture becomes clearer. There was no other reason to hire me, a new graduate, to lead a large-scale operation other than to have someone unsure of themselves to bully easily. My paperwork was sloppy, rushed, and guided by a heavy hand from my superiors. Any seasoned scientist wouldn’t have been swayed.
But still, breaking a treaty with the allied cities? Lowell’s claims make sense in theory, but he has no proof. Not only that, but the current facts are stacked against him.
“This all ties into your poison theory, then?” I ask. “Is this something you’ve seen Nilsan do a lot before?”
To my surprise, Lowell shakes his head and replies, “No. Nilsan hasn’t been bold enough to try it again, except for now. The Sandpit Desert project is on a similar scale to the Misya Swamp project in terms of potential revenue.” His lips twitch. “How convenient that you were demoted right before the initial sign-off and were dumped into a desert where Gaia 4is known to be active, huh? It’s almost like they didn’t want their most combative employee at the helm.”
Just when I think my eyes can’t go any wider, my eyebrows kiss my hairline. “Are you suggesting I was sent out here to be murdered? Why the hell would they bother with that? From how you’ve described me,” I use my fingers as air quotes, “I’m just a ‘useful idiot’ to them.”
“Well, that depends. Does Nilsan regularly send a single surveyor with heaps of insubordination strikes against them out to the field by themselves?” Lowell asks, already knowing the answer.
Reminded of my demotion, I scowl. “No, but I’m seasoned enough to be on my own. My superiors know that,” I say through a scoff. “And I don’t believe you. This is all too conspiratorial and convenient.”
“You don’t have to believe me at all, sweetheart,” he says with a lighthearted chuckle. “I’m only answering your questions as you’ve asked them.”
Despite my skepticism, Lowell’s observations run parallel to my own theories. Kinsley never told me who would replace me during my temporary demotion, and I suspected he wanted a pushover. A scientist who would fold under pressure like I used to.
I roll my teeth over my bottom lip, rubbing the heel of my palms into my eye sockets until I see stars. “You knew I was being sent to the field, and that I was a contributor to the Misya Swamp Pipeline. So, let me guess — capturing me wasn’t just a happenstance, was it?”
Lowell’s nostrils flare eagerly, seemingly enjoying watching me struggle to digest this revelation. “Nope. I’ve been trying to draw you out of Nilsan’s safety for about two years, and it seems like you were none-the-wiser the entire time. I had my spies attempt to influence you to travel to any allied city for a festival or research conference, but you didn’t budge.”
My cheeks flush. Leaving my work to Kinsley to attend an event would be asking him to tamper with my results, so I was always the one to stay behind. Hearing out loud that I haven’t set foot outside of Nilsan in over two years is a mortifying realization.
“It took alongwhile,” he starts with an exasperated exhale. “But when we finally caught you, I couldn’t wait to crush your skull between my palms like a sad little piece of fruit. A euphoric end to the sordid tragic tale of the extinction of my species. A life for a life — a life formanylives, even.”
My eyes squint, but not in a glare. “Was it Kinsley’s singular influence that demoted me, or was destroying my career the byproduct of your revenge ploy?”
I despise how casual he looks. Delighted, even.
He shrugs with one shoulder. “Our original plan was to mix up the first wave of sand samples so you’d be forced to test on-site. So, sorry to say, but you can’t blame us. It was pure luck that your homicidal megalomaniac of a boss sent you out here without a partner. We didn’t have to do anything but sit back and watch.”
I cross my arms defensively. It stings more than I thought to know that Gaia 4 was watching and cheering as my life’s work crumbled into ash.
Noting my posture, Lowell looks me up and down. “You should be grateful that you are no longer contributing to the mass extinction and degradation of a vital ecosystem,” he says, curling his upper lip in disgust. “Because that’s your whole thing, right?”
My hands fall from my face into my lap, grunting in frustration. While I try not to let his jabs hurt me in the way he intends, I feel the prickle of guilt and shame blight my heart.
“I don’t believe you.” Hot tears begin to burn in the corners of my eyes. “I became a scientist to preserve our continent to the best of my abilities, not destroy it. You’re wrong about everything, and needlessly cruel.”
“Oh, you can’t evenbeginto fathom the breadth of the meaning of the word ‘cruel,’” he spits, a hollow growling in his throat tapering to a soft purr. “Are you standing by your Misya Swamp signatures, then?All of them?”
I don’t let a tear fall despite the tightness in my throat. “No. But I don’t think what I’ve done is wrong in the way you are suggesting.” I grit my teeth. “I have no reason to trust you, so Idon’t.”
“For fucks’ sake. Not this shit again.” Lowell wipes sweat from his forehead, moisture collecting in the grooves of his smile lines. “You’re so fixated on ‘good’ and ‘right’, like they’re the only words you know. You wrote about ethics so much in your research papers that it made your work so easy to spot, I rarely ever needed to look at the author to know it was you.”
“You can read?” I say, snide through sniffles. Despite my jibe, I’m honestly impressed he read them; they are extremely high-level dissertations.
