Inside Man | ONC2023

10. Confrontation

(Author's Note: this chapter is dedicated to the effervescent EvelynHail and her dystopian story for the ONC2023, Gaslight Trials!)

Paul checked the security information on the panel near his door. Although his visitor appeared agitated, with a high pulse rate, the scan showed he was unarmed. He was still wearing the same clothes he had worn at the station.

Paul didn't hesitate, he needed to know what was going on.

He opened the door.

"Hello... what's the matter?" asked Paul, noticing the tight jaw and pale face.

The young man came straight to the point. "Are you Paul Finn?"

"That's what they tell me." Paul had meant the answer to be quite literal but the other man flushed. He thought he was being sarcastic.

"Did you kill Mikel?" His right fist clenched at his side.

"No. The current theory is that he died from a drug overdose," answered Paul in calm tones, hoping to diffuse the tension. "Look, why don't you come inside and we can talk in private rather than out here in the corridor?"

His visitor hesitated, uncertainty crossing his face. Then he made up his mind and took a determined step into the apartment.

"Is this place yours?" he asked, looking around as Paul closed the door. There wasn't much to see, just a rather generic looking couch and a couple of chairs around a table. Closed doors presumably led to the bedroom and bathroom.

"Yes."

"And you weren't letting it to Mikel?"

"No."

The young man's face fell, as if he had been hoping for a different answer. "But he told me this was his address."

Paul shrugged. "I'm sorry, I don't know why he would have said that. The apartment definitely belongs to me, the Patrol confirmed it this morning. And before we go any further, who are you exactly, and what's your connection to Mikel?"

The young man flushed again. His voice was stiff as he answered. "Sorry, this is all so confusing for me. I'm Rik, Rik Maddon. Mikel never mentioned me?"

"No, sorry, not that I remember. Should he have?"

"I don't know. He was my lover, and I thought we were exclusive, but... What was your relationship with him?"

Paul hesitated. What was he going to tell this stranger? "To be honest, I'm not sure. It appears I took the same drug last night that killed Mikel, but it must have been a lighter dose or else he had a higher susceptibility. In either case, I survived, but it had a rather unpleasant side effect, in that I've lost my memory."

"You've lost your memory?" repeated Rik in disbelieving tones, one eyebrow raised.

"I'm afraid so."

"How convenient!" The words burst from Rik.

"No, it really isn't." Paul shook his head. "I don't remember anything before I woke up this morning. I didn't even know my own name until the Patrol told me."

Rik brushed this to one side, too intent on his own distress to hear about someone else's problems.

"But Mikel was found here, in your apartment, with you. Why was he here?"

I thought he was a one-night stand. Paul knew he couldn't say that to Rik, who was grieving for his dead lover. He tried hard to think of a tactful alternative but really, what could he say? Mikel had been found naked in his bed, it was hardly indicative of a platonic friendship. He couldn't quite understand why Rik was insisting he spell it out.

"I think we must have had a relationship... of sorts. I don't know exactly what, but enough of one that we shared the same drug, or possibly spiked drinks, last night, and then went to bed." There, that was tactful enough, wasn't it?

Rik was fast, he had to give him that. Paul only just managed to catch his fist before it landed in his face.

"Bastard!"

Damnit, thought Paul, the patrol hadn't told Rik anything at all.

He tightened his grip on Rik's fist and twisted his arm up behind his back in one smooth motion. He pulled him close against his body, fencing him in with his other arm and held him tight.

In other circumstances, Paul though he might have quite enjoyed wrestling with Rik, but this wasn't the time or place. Rik struggled against the restraint but he couldn't break free. He might have had some good moves for an amateur but he couldn't win against a professional.

"Calm down," urged Paul, tightening his grip. "I'm sorry. I thought you knew."

"They wouldn't tell me anything except that he was dead," managed Rik, a little breathless.

"If I let you go, will you sit down and listen to what I have to say?"

For a moment, Paul thought Rik wasn't going to give in, but then he sagged, the fight draining out of him in a rush.

Paul dropped his arms and gestured to the table and chairs. "Have a seat."

He handed Rik a beaker of water from the dispenser. "I'd offer you a proper drink but I don't know if my stock has been spiked. I'll have to throw them all out and start fresh," he added, more to give them both time than anything else.

Rik put his water on the table and looked helplessly at Paul. "They didn't seem to be interested in Mikel's death at all. The only thing they cared about was the money."