The Big Damn Fight

Noise drifted vaguely in the direction of consciousness. Somewhere nearby people were talking.

“What a fascinating specimen.” The voice was clipped, cold, clinical. “Biologically speaking the infiltrators have upped their game yet again, and just when we were getting the hang of spotting their biological tells…” A pause. “I could almost swear that she was-” A burst of arguing from other voices, Noise couldn’t tell what they were saying. “No no of course I’d never question a superior. Yes sir, right away sir.”

Noise returned to the blackness for a while. She slept dreamlessly, and awoke with a groan handcuffed to a desk in a featureless metal room with a mirror (probably a one way mirror) along one wall. “Fucking rude!” She said as she rubbed her aching head with the back of her hand. “That was uncalled for! Jesus Christ!”

We’re almost definitely looking at more than one shifter here, she thought; they already had protocols for identification in place, also they weren’t overjoyed that the menace was dead when they saw the sticky purple ooze all over the princess’ bedroom. Maybe that just meant they’d never managed to kill one before, but it was probably best to err on the side of more dangerous monsters than expected. Noise wondered how many there was, how effective their infiltration had been, how closely they could resemble a human. She hadn’t been immediately identified as human and released so pretty damn close she suspected, but alternately…

Well Shifter 101 is go after someone in power and take their place, right? She assumed that was what was going on with the princess. Who knows how compromised these people already are, and maybe they’re pulling some strings to discredit her.

This situation was a clusterfuck. If only she’d been here from the beginning she certainly wouldn’t be leaving anyone on their own. She’d insist upon groups of three at a minimum at all times & multiple codewords to be used in specific patterns. The important thing is to give a shifter no opportunity to infiltrate. Walking into a situation like this half way through, it already felt like a lost cause and she’d barely even started.

More importantly at this point: was there anything she could do to convince them she wasn’t a stunningly accurate facsimile of a human? She contemplated this question for a couple of minutes whilst hoping her headache would clear up of its own volition. She was having trouble envisioning a scenario wherein she managed to change anyone’s mind; even if she explained herself it would sound so far fetched that there was no chance. Her best bet, she considered was 1) arguing her incongruity (i.e. i do not blend in so i’d be a really bad infiltrator, but it always seemed to her that this was such a stock argument that those seeking to infiltrate could consider sending in those who were incongruous to take advantage of it) or 2) lying, which was going to be tough considering her lack of information about this place.

There was always option 3) just get the heck out of here, but that was always on the table. Since she was already here, already had the headache, she figured she might as well have the interrogation. It’d be such a waste otherwise.

It took her this long, long enough to decide to sit and wait patiently for her interrogator, for her to realize someone had taken her mask.