Chapter 68. Endless abuse of Noah
"Dr. Celia?" A deep voice interrupted her thoughts. She turned around and saw a dark-haired woman looking around uneasily. She is smaller than the doctor and has a slender figure. Celia was sure she knew the woman. Then she remembered that she was Li Weiwei. She's an aide in the cabin who's been hurt more than most in the past year. She has received psychotherapy for a long time and still has regular consultations with Dr. Mi Zhiwa. Until the last moment, it was uncertain whether she would participate in the mission. But the psychiatrist finally agreed, on the condition that she would receive regular consultations from the ship's consultant while on the ship. So now she's back on board. But how she's coping with her current situation, Celia isn't sure.
"Hello, Ms. Li Weiwei." The doctor greeted him friendly. "Is there anything I can do to help you?"
"Is Mr. Ted here? I heard he was here." There was uneasiness in her voice. Why is she nervous? Celia is considered a very easy person to get along with.
"Yes, he is over there." Celia pointed in the direction. "But he can't respond at the moment. He's in a coma." The doctor's forehead wrinkled, and she looked at Li Weiwei worriedly.
"How serious is the situation?"
"I'm not sure yet. We'll have to wait." Celia didn't want to reveal too much. She didn't know what the relationship was between Levi and Ted. And she was unaccustomed to disclosing patient information to third parties unrelated to the patient.
"Can I see him?" Li Weiwei wanted to know.
"Of course," Celia agreed. She had to curb her curiosity. She wanted to know what the relationship between Ted and Levi was, and whether there was any connection between the two. But that wasn't what she needed to know, so she just looked at Li Weiwei briefly and then walked into her office.
Levi Weiwei hesitantly approached the curtain that separated Ted from the others. This respects his privacy while also protecting him from overly curious eyes. She pushed the curtain aside and let herself in, but Ted was still obscured. She walked over to his bed and looked at him. His face was pale. His normally dark skin was paler than usual. He closed his eyes. A machine was giving him artificial respiration. Clearly, the situation was much more serious than Celia had given her a hint.
"Hello, Ted," she said softly. "It's me, Li Weiwei. I think you still remember me." Her eyes turned from his face to the system's display. The life support system was still beeping at regular intervals. Nothing changes. But what could she hope for? Does he wake up when he hears her voice?
"I wanted to come see you," she continued in this one-way conversation. "By the way, I really like the way you look bald. It suits you very well. Maybe you can tell me when you started to look that way. Also, what have you been doing for the past year? We've had a lot of friends. We haven't seen each other for a long time." She paused and looked at him. What should she say? She had a lot to say to him. But now that he couldn't hear it, maybe it didn't mean much to him. "Why were you avoiding me? What did I do to you? Why did you never respond to my contact?" she thought about the past year. After the demonic flames attacked the ship, he gave her hope because she originally thought she was destined to die. The feelings that had developed between them were suddenly destroyed by him, and he never explained why. This hurt her deeply. At first she didn't know what to do. She can barely sort through her emotions or cope with anything because of what she's been through. After returning to Earth and beginning treatment, she gradually regained her confidence in herself. Three months later, she finally tried to contact Ted. But he refused everything and was unwilling to talk to her. She knew that she must have done something wrong, but she was unaware of her guilt. He never explained it to her. If her superiors hadn't ordered her to return to the Republic, she might have changed ships just because of Ted.
Now he lay before her, half-dead. Although he couldn't run away from her anymore, he couldn't answer her questions either. There was nothing she could do. "I really want to know why you suddenly turned around a year ago. I needed you. I thought you knew." She touched his hand. "Please get well soon. We still have a lot to resolve. But I still believe it was just a misunderstanding. Get well now. Nothing else matters." She took her hand away because it suddenly occurred to her that he might not like it. Suddenly she was no longer sure whether her visit was a good idea. If he doesn't want to, will his condition worsen?
"Then I'll go first," she whispered. "But I will definitely come to see you again. Take care of yourself." She hurried to the curtain and, as she wished, found that there was no one else in the room. This way she could leave the infirmary unnoticed and without attracting curious glances.
Noah's thoughts surged. Again and again he asked himself what had happened. Did he forget something or something was overlooked. He recounts everything from the discovery of the Cindy weapon to his landing on Earth. He questions every decision. Over and over again. Plenty of time for him to think. This becomes a vicious cycle.
He couldn't help but think of the screams in the corridor. Carol? What would they do to her? He has a responsibility to her. Maybe more than the other two. Carol has experienced too many things on the Republic. In fact, he had wanted to keep her away from all trouble in the recent period.
He had a lot of time to think. He realized that this was exactly the purpose of this isolation. They wanted to torture him and then defeat him. He would never let them succeed. However, he had to admit that the torture was not completely ineffective. In the darkness, he lost all sense of time. And, the fact that he didn't even know who his opponent actually was made him even more frustrated.
Finally, after an endless amount of time, Noah's door opened again. The dazzling light poured in, stinging his eyes. He had to close his eyes and turn his head to the side because the light was too harsh. His eyes had long since adapted to the absolute darkness.
The man in a black suit was already seated and spreading his papers. He also relocated the small microphone and turned it on. "Good morning, Captain," he said at last.
Morning? Noah thought to himself. Wasn't that the same person who came just a few hours ago? If it were morning, then the person visiting at that time would have lost track of time. This must be the plan of those people. Confusing him and causing him to lose all sense of time. This was their little ploy to torture and ultimately defeat him. Therefore, Noah simply did not answer.
The man glanced briefly, then ignored Noah's silence. He wrote on the document with a pen. Then he took a bottle of water from a bag on the table. He opened the cap, put the bottle to his mouth and took a sip. Then he deliberately placed it on the table.
It wasn't until this moment that Noah noticed how thirsty his throat was. Previously, he had been too focused on the current situation to pay attention to his body. But now, he realized that he was very hungry and especially thirsty. How long has he been trapped here? Since he doesn't know, he can't be sure when he last drank water.
The man noticed Noah's unconscious glance at the water bottle. "Are you thirsty?" he asked, his voice completely neutral. Obviously, he didn't allow himself to show any emotion, so as not to provide the other party with an opportunity to ask questions.
Noah remained silent. What should he say? The man must have known that he was suffering from thirst.
"You are very rude, captain. Don't you have a good education?" the man said sarcastically in a calm voice. He stood up and paced back and forth in front of Noah. "You didn't respond to my greetings and you didn't answer my questions. This was not a mandatory question. It was a question asked out of sympathy. We can have a casual chat if you want. But you ignored me. This is really It's so rude. And I actually want to give you something to drink?" His voice sounded extremely smooth. He wasn't loud or rude. He emphasized exactly the right places. He was obviously perfectly trained for this type of interrogation. "I'm not your enemy, Captain. I'm just doing my job because it's what has to be done. Being the easygoing guy I am, I'm going to ignore it all. It's simple. If you answer my questions honestly Question, I'll give you something to drink. If you continue to remain silent, you'll get nothing."
Noah looked away from the water bottle and back to his tormentor, but he didn't speak.
However, the man seemed to view his gaze as a compromise, as he asked: "What's your name?"
"We asked this question last time. And you know the answer."
"Then repeat it," the man demanded nonchalantly.
Noah didn't know what to do. This game is ridiculous yet deadly serious. He realized this was part of the psychological torture. Therefore, all the more reason to resist. However, rigid silence does not achieve the goal, only suggestive participation and then counterattacks at critical moments to frustrate the other party. Perhaps this can elicit an unanticipated reaction from the other person and change the course of the conversation.
"I am Captain Noah, commander of the spaceship Republic," he finally said.
"Where are you from?"
"From Kansas."
"What's your mission here?"
"I don't have a mission," Noah said emphatically. Hunger and thirst gnawed at him, and the lack of movement and dark spaces made him uncomfortable. He had to fight with himself to avoid succumbing to his frustration.
"So you want me to believe that you acted on your own without orders," the man concluded, standing in front of Noah.
Noah's eyes widened. How sick is his opponent's mind? "I do not understand what you are saying."
"Oh, I'm sure you understand very well. You want to create a story of acting alone to cover your employer and co-conspirators. But don't think we are stupid. The truth will eventually come out."
"You are so paranoid." Noah shook his head contemptuously.
"Who can prove you?"
Noah thought about it and wanted to tell the man a story about the conspirators. A brilliant conspiracy theory. But he restrained himself. The people responsible here will definitely take everything seriously and take steps that will cause more chaos. Noah doesn't want to be responsible for those innocent people, they will definitely be affected.
"Who can prove you?" the man repeated. He picked up the bottle nonchalantly and took a sip. He then took the bottle in his hand and waved it in front of Noah's face.
"My crew," Noah finally answered candidly.
"Only humans?"
"No, we also have Andor and Denobrans on board."
"The Denobrans," the man repeated slowly. "Thanks. I think you deserve this." He held up the bottle.
Since Noah's hands were tied, the man put the bottle to his mouth and asked him to drink slowly. Noah started drinking in small sips because his throat was too dry to drink more at once. Then his drinking became gulping. When the man finally took the bottle away, he almost choked.
The man returned to his desk and began to put it away. Noah looked at him in surprise. Is this the end? The man asked few questions. How could he possibly get any information from these simple statements? Even if he misinterpreted the meaning, Noah felt that the information was simply not enough to draw any conclusions.
Suddenly, he had a fit of coughing.
The man glanced, "It looks like it's starting," he said as if talking to himself.
Noah was startled. here we go? What started?
As if the man had guessed what he was thinking, he explained, "There's poison in that bottle of water. Don't worry, it's not fatal. But it will relieve you of everything. It's not a pleasant experience, if you know what I mean." thing. Your stomach and intestines will empty out in every way you can imagine. Then your mind will hopefully become freer and more cooperative."
"But you...", Noah stammered.
"Yes, I drank from the same bottle, yes. But I had taken the antidote before. Besides, years of service have accustomed me to it." He held the folding table under his arm and headed for the door. "I will come back when the mess has been cleaned up from you and the room and the smell has dissipated. Have a nice night." With these words he disappeared.
Noah looked around, his despair palpable. He was also tied to a chair. Even if he were free, there was no toilet in this room. These damn guys really use any means to get out. His sweat began to flow and he became very hot. Shortness of breath. The thought of what was about to happen made him sick. And shame. Incredibly shameful. He didn't want to think about what was going to happen. But he couldn't think of anything else. Then he felt it all begin.
A man in dark clothes walked quietly to the door. He reached for the doorknob. He wanted to make as little noise as possible because he wanted to make a surprise attack on whoever was outside the door. This is a psychological tactic designed to leave a more docile first impression on the other person.
Behind him is a long, brightly lit corridor. There are doors every few meters, to the left and right. The doors were steel doors secured with heavy locks. No one locked behind such a door could escape without outside help. And that's exactly what this facility is for.
Detained here is the number one enemy of Earth's government. Here, they were asked questions about the people, organizations and plans behind the scenes. There are no restrictive rules, no barriers to investigation. The most important thing is to get information from prisoners. It doesn't matter how you get this information. Furthermore, there are no human rights here. The people imprisoned here are as if they don't exist to the entire world. Almost no one leaves the facility alive. Human rights groups are not even aware the facility exists. They may not even be able to imagine such a place. Those who dream of a better world believe that missing political dissidents were simply murdered. And for the murder victims, it may also be a blessing. Psychological torture and actual physical violence can eventually break everyone. Therefore, from a confident and arrogant personality to a crying and begging animal, they will finally reveal everything to the outside world and pray for an early death.
This man loves his job. Having all this control over life and death, suffering and despair gave him a wonderful feeling. When he breaks a person again and passes the acquired information to his superiors, he feels that he is the most powerful person in the universe. What other job could make him feel this way? Therefore, over the years, he has never regretted his career choice. Nor would he have any sympathy for the victims in his dreams. After all, they were enemies of the state and, according to him, had lost all rights. They deserve to die. If you have to suffer a long and painful death to get all the information, so be it.
Now, he faces a new challenge. No one could provide more information about his new case. No one knows who he is, where he comes from, or even his exact intentions. This is his best chance to prove that he is the best interrogator on the planet. He was determined to seize this opportunity. Although being assigned to this case was enough to prove his worth.
There is no official professional title for his work. Unofficially, he calls himself the Inquisitor. The name accurately reflects the power he holds.
He pulled hard and opened the door. This room had previously been in complete darkness. Now the bright light from the corridor shines in. The man who was restrained on a chair in the middle of the room was blinded by the light. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness and were now bound to ache and cry.
Surprisingly, however, the man did not react as expected. In fact, he didn't react at all.
The Inquisitor took out a folding table and a chair that had been prepared, then walked into the room without paying any attention to the prisoner. Suddenly, the lights on the ceiling lit up. He calmly set up the table and chairs and sat down. He took some paper and a pen from his pocket. Then he began to read what was on the paper. Up to this point he had not noticed the prisoner. Finally, he looked up slightly dazed. His forehead wrinkled, as if an idea was floating in his mind. Then he stood up and turned towards the door. The door is still open. He smiled and walked to the door, closing it. Then he sat down again and continued reading the document in his hand.
Minute after minute passed. He became uneasy. In fact, this shouldn't last this long. In the past, each prisoner would start talking after a few minutes. No one could last that long. However, the man seemed to be as indifferent to the other person as he was. Half an hour has passed. This cannot continue. The Inquisitor looked up at the strange man. He noticed that the other person was staring at him with a sharp look. The man seemed unaffected, even though he had been in this darkness all day without water or other food. Obviously, this is a difficult case. But he believed he could crack it.
"Do you know where you are now?" the inquisitor finally asked.
The man didn't answer. His eyes were still fixed sharply on the Inquisitor.
"We can do it the hard way, or we can do it my way. It's up to you."
The man still didn't respond. His calmness caught the Inquisitor off guard.
"See those buckles on your chair? Are they holding your hands and feet to the chair? They're connected to a generator. If you don't answer my question, you're going to get a shock. And every shock will increase in intensity. Around the twelfth shock, you'll die. I don't think you'll want that. So it's best to cooperate with me. I won't repeat the question. Let's get started. What's your name?"
The man remained silent. He didn't react. His eyes remained fixed on the Inquisitor. Although he blinks occasionally, one might think he's a puppet if he didn't.
"Well, as you wish," the Inquisitor said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. Usually, he really doesn't care. After all, he was just doing his job. But this man challenged him. But the Inquisitor will eventually break him, as he has broken everyone before.
He pressed a button on the table and the man received an electric shock. However, the shock seemed to have little to no effect on him. He closed his eyes only briefly before staring back at the Inquisitor.
The Inquisitor decided to ignore this for now. "What's your name?" he repeated the question.
