Dragon

[DerVVulfman]

Chapter Twenty
Everything is Black and White

Later that day, she was taken to Dr. Roberts’s living quarters on deck 11. No soldiers were present. It was a bit hot inside, but only for the doctor. He adjusted the thermostat, then wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. He smiled at Becky. “One of the advantages of being a dragon is that you never sweat. You keep cool internally, no matter where you are. Unless, of course, you lose your temper. Bad joke, I admit.” He closed his file cabinet. Her mood hadn’t improved one bit since this morning. She stood silently, bitterly.

“It’s all right for you to hate me. I understand completely. A little hate is good for the soul. I’ve got lots of it-- none for you, just... other things. If the hate improves your work, please keep hating me. You were magnificent last night. That’s exactly what I wanted to see. But... I’ve put you under a lot of strain.”

Is he out of his mind? Becky thought, not answering.

“The property you destroyed won’t be held against you. It was yours, it was your privilege. Fortunately, it’s all replaceable. I want you to be happy, Drag--”

“THEN LET ME GO!!!” Becky shouted.

“I can’t do that. You know that. I control a lot of things, but make no mistake, this is the General’s ship. You can stay in this room temporarily, while I switch to Deck 7. This is one of the best rooms left. You deserve the best.”

“Thanks, Doc, but I love my own room the way it is right now.”

“Will you please be sensible? Just listen. Because you’re stressed lately-- and not without cause-- you won’t have to go on any missions for one week.”

“I may not have to go at all, if I get my way,” she warned.

“Don’t threaten. Listen. I’m placing you on R&R for seven days. No assignments until next Thursday. I’ve already prepared them, but there’s no need for you to worry about them this week. You’ve earned a break. So try to have some fun.”

Becky scowled contemptuously. Fun? FUN??? “Speaking of fun, will I ever get to kill someone who really, really deserves it... like YOU?”

Roberts scowled back, waving a thick manilla file at her. “Don’t be insolent. You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. If you keep acting like an idiot, I’ll spray you with the chemicals all over again. The people in Utah did deserve it. So do these people.”

“May I see that?” Becky pointed to the assignment. Roberts handed it over. Without even looking at the details, she spat fire on it, reducing it to ash. “Oh, my goodness, clumsy me. I’m so sorry.” She smirked.

Roberts then said “Well, thank God for floppy disks. I gave you seven days. I won’t change the schedule beyond that. You’re going to get these people.”

“The hell I will. Who are they this time?” Becky asked. “Ninja rabbits?”

“More white supremacists,” Roberts answered.

“MORE? ARE YOU BONKERS? ARE YOU TOTALLY INSANE, DOC?” She couldn’t believe it.

“No. Are you?” He shot back, irritated.

Becky was irate. “We just lost three VSO guys tackling the LAST ones, and now you want to do it all over again? What’s the MATTER with you?”

Roberts spoke quickly. “It was worth it. We lost three, they lost five. Sometimes you just have to sacrifice. We’re going to do it again. And it’ll be even more marvelous next time. What’s a few dead soldiers? Risk is there job. The point is what we-- you-- can do to them. The Aryan Brotherhood of Colorado is next on the list. The VSO’s going to burn them off the face of --”

“NO!!! I SAID NO!!!” Becky screamed. “I WON’T DO THIS ANYMORE! I’LL KILL MYSELF BEFORE YOU MAKE ME DO IT AGAIN!”

Roberts slammed his table. “I’LL KEEP YOU COLD-PACIFIED FOR THE WHOLE WEEK BEFORE I LET YOU DO THAT! DO YOU WANT THAT? DO I HAVE TO TIE YOUR HAND BEHIND YOUR BACK TO PREVENT YOU FROM CUTTING ONE OFF???”

“I’M NOT STAYING HERE, NOT IN YOUR ROOM, NOT ON THE SHIP!! I’M NOT--”

“YOU ARE STAYING HERE, DAMN YOU, AND YOU’D BETTER LIKE IT!!!” They were both screaming at each other. Spit was practically flying.

“NO!!! I WANT TO GO HOME!!! I WANNA GO HOME!!!” Becky was pounding the file cabinet with each anguished syllable.

“THIS IS YOUR HOME, YOU STUPID WHITE--”

“NO, IT’S NOT!!! NO, IT’S NOT!!! I WANNA GO HOME!!!” She was going to pieces.

“AND I WANT MY CHILDREN BACK!!!” Roberts screamed just as furiously. “BUT IT’LL NEVER, EVER HAPPEN!! JUST FACE UP TO WHAT YOU ARE, AND FORGET ABOUT YOUR FIANCÉ AND YOUR SISTER AND YOUR FRIENDS AND YOUR NIECE, BECAUSE... be-because...”

“Because... why?” Becky cried.

Roberts’s expression suddenly intensified even more. His hand seized Becky’s wrist in a tight grip as he pulled her forward, violently opening his desk drawer. “Here’s why, you cowardly skum-— HERE’S WHY!” The black-bordered picture frame he yanked out of the drawer clattered on the desk. The picture was of the two most adorable children Becky had ever seen. A six-year-old boy. A five-year-old girl.

“Lewis Dean Roberts!” the doctor shouted. “Born January 18th, 1989! D-Died January 19th, 1995!” Oh, my god! She thought. Trying to break free, Roberts practically yanked her back. “Look at them!! Amanda Rachel Roberts! Born December 25th, 1990! Died January 19th, 1995! DEAR GOD!!! THEY WERE BURNED TO DEATH BY BIGOTS!! BURNED BY YOUR KIND!!!”

Burned. Burned to death. Six years old. Five years old. Now, Becky was finally realizing the extent of Roberts’s pain and obsession. It was too much for her to bear. It had to be a thousand times worse for him. They were his family.

Roberts let her go, turning his back.

“M-My kind?” Becky asked meekly, crying.

“My wife left me,” he said haltingly. “She wasn’t as strong as I am. She couldn’t stomach... the things that have to be done.” He turned around.

“Did... did Pure Skumm and the others have anything to do with...”

“Does it matter?” Roberts asked, angry again.

“It’d make me feel better about burning him...” she replied.

“This isn’t about making white people feel better!” he almost spat. “It’s about making white people feel DEAD!!! With your generous help...”

“Oh, no...” she sobbed.

“We’re going to destroy White America one stinking piece at a time --”

“--OH, YES, for what they did to my children.” He looked at her menacingly. “I... I don’t know who did the actual killing of Lew and Mandy. It wasn’t Pure Skumm. It happened too far away. I don’t give a shit. I’m starting with the supremacists, and we’re not stopping until I’m satisfied.” He found a glass of ginger ale and swallowed a swig, trying to regain his composure.

Becky felt an intense sadness, a surprising wave of sudden pity for the broken man. “Oh, Doc... can’t you see? Can’t you realize? You... can’t fight hate with hate.”

“It beats Bibles and butterfly nets,” he said. “When you came along, I realized I had the perfect instrument for revenge. You’re my instrument.”

“Don’t you mean SLAVE!!” she shot back. “Another kind of payback?”

“SLAVE, HELL!” Roberts fired up. “You’d better be careful with the analogies you make, girl. You didn’t go one-tenth of what most slaves went through.”

“Maybe not,” Becky dried her eyes. “But I never asked to be here, or to become an assassin. And I’m about as white as a girl can get.”

Roberts actually smiled. “You don’t count. I can’t hate you. You’re my instrument. Besides, you’re not white, you’re green.” He chuckled somewhat.

“My fiancé was burned too,” she said, trying to reason with him somehow. “Blown up act...”

“Yes, but he survived! Don’t compare your so-called tragedies with mine.”

“I’m not finished. He was practically blown up. Burned all over his face and body... and he’s still the kindest, most decent man I’ve ever met in my life. Ever!”

“So what?” Roberts said. “He’s still white.”

“Oh, the hell with it.” Becky gave up. “Consider me retired, doc. I quit-- now.”

“You keep saying that--”

“And I mean it! Now more than ever!” she glared.

“NO! You can’t quit-- ever-- because the General will pull the plug on you if you stop! For once in your life, listen to reason--”

“NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!!!” Becky stood fast “THAT’S IT!! I QUIT!!!”

“I CAN’T PROTECT YOU FROM THE GENERAL IF YOU DON’T OBEY!” Roberts insisted.

“I’m not afraid of that pig --”

“THEN BE AFRAID OF HUNT!!” he shouted.

She hesitated. “Kevin? Why should I be? We fought together!”

“That means absolutely nothing!” he warned. “Hunt is a VSO operative above all else!”

“Kevin’s not going to hurt me just because --”

Roberts lost it again. “HOW MANY TIMES MUST I TELL YOU?!? HUNT IS THE GENERAL’S DOG!!! YOU ARE SO NAIVE! HUNT WOULD SHOOT HIS OWN MOTHER, IF THE GENERAL WANTED IT! EVEN IF HE LOVED YOU, HE’D STILL DO IT!!”

“SHUT UP!!!” Becky shouted, not believing.

“SO YOU AND I HAVE TO KEEP UP THE MISSIONS SO THAT HE DOESN’T HAVE TO KILL YOU! WE’RE GOING TO COLORADO AND KILL THOSE WHITE SONS OF BITCHES!!!”

“NO! I WON’T DO IT!!” Becky screamed.

Roberts lunged forward, clutching her arms, his voice bellowing in desperation. “YOU’VE GOT TO!! YOU’VE GOT TO!!! PLEASE!!! FOR YOURSELF! FOR YOUR LIFE! FOR MY CHILDREN’S LIVES!” He was on the verge of crying.

“I’M SORRY!!! I CAN’T!!! I can’t--” She felt so much sorrow for him.

“YOU-- YOU-- YOU BITCH!!!” He slapped her hard across the face. She yelped, but didn’t want to retaliate unless he absolutely had to. Roberts was really, truly, unbelievably messed up. Justifiably insane? She didn’t know. “AFTER ALL I’VE DONE FOR YOU-- ALL MY TREATMENTS-- ALL MY GIFTS-- YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME!!! I GAVE YOU YOUR VOICE BACK! YOU-- YOU TRAITOR!!!”

Becky was about to bolt from the room, but Roberts blocked the doorway.

“Don’t make me hurt you, Doc...”

? ? ?

Outside the door, in the hovercraft’s hallway, Sergeant Kevin Hunt, who’d been eavesdropping for the last six minutes, had decided he’d heard enough. He turned and walked quickly to the General’s office...