Cognitive Deviance

55. Rabbit Hole Part 3

June 7, 2045 - 11:20 AM

He's in the bathroom, Slater had said. Bullshit, Margo thought, and she glared at the weaselly man, her rising brow hidden behind her mask but her curiosity clear in her eyes.

Mason, Holden, anybody, she sent back to her superiors. Is he telling the truth?

"Yes, Sandoval," Mason replied. "We've been watching him struggle to remove his pants and gloves for about two minutes now."

Slater smirked. "I bet you're talking to HQ right now, aren't you?" he said.

"Yes," Margo replied. "I'm just checking on Jack."

"You his new counselor or his girlfriend or something?"

"No, I just don't find you trustworthy."

Margo glanced at Mr. W. A part of her felt like he was the more dependable ally between him and Slater, even with every potential clue of his identity hidden behind leather and an altered voice. If Slater didn't validate his reliability to her soon, he'd be staring down the barrel of a Fatemaker once more.

"I am trustworthy, Margo," Slater said, waving his hand toward her. "And as proof of that, I'd like to ask to borrow your ThoughtControl piece, please. Hopefully, I can clear some things up with your commissioner."

Margo quickly stepped back. "She already knows," she urged.

For a moment, she cracked Slater's forced smile. "Well, of course, she does!" he chirped. "But believe it or not, she can be just as unsure of her decisions and claims as anyone else. So I'd like to put some of her paranoia to rest, especially because I can tell she's responsible for all of your stress, honey."

The thought of him humiliating Mason intrigued Margo. She knew it would hardly take much for Slater to embarrass her. No witty jabs. No matter-of-factly reminders. Just the fact he had a place in her past would leave her a blushing, stammering mess. At least that's what Margo hoped. Genuinely hoped, not madly assumed. She anticipated Mason's degradation just as much—no, far more—than the apprehension of the Multi Man.

Do I? she thought.

She paused, awaiting a furious conniption of warnings and threats from Mason not to hand over her ThoughtControl piece. She hated to admit hearing her do so would've only motivated her further to hand it over. Just the thought of refusing to give her the satisfaction, even for such a petty thing, would've made the last several months of having her mind slowly crumble to pieces like a cliff into the ocean worth it.

Margo passed it over.

"Thanks, honey," Slater grinned as he took the piece from her. Nudging it into his right ear, he said, "Janice! How you doing, gorgeous? Glad to see you all could make it to the party."

"Slater!" Mason growled. "Return Sandoval's piece this instant!"

"Return? The young lady politely offered it to me after I asked. Besides, I'm not here to gloat or anything, Janice." He paused, gesturing toward Margo and Mr. W to follow him into the next room where he'd taken Jack.

"But the doors," Mr. W said.

Slater turned back again, hastily shaking his head and mouthing, "I've got this," before thrusting through the door. "Yeah, sorry, Janice. There was a minor incident up in the suites earlier. Those masked assholes from the rally destroyed my holo-projectors and killed some of my potential customers. I had to flee down to the lower level with Margo and Jack, but it all worked in our favor, actually! Not only do I have better access to the EMP, I've discovered where they manufacture the 'Gasm Gas."