29/05/29 The Atomic Ball: Part II
Previously on The Atomic Ball:
(dramatic music)
Iron: “I hate you, Oxygen! Damn you! MUST YOU HAVE IT ALL?!?”
(new scene)
Lithium: “Such is the travesty of the deepest failure in our mistakes. That we cannot be! Transcendence is a picture * But * It * Is * Also * A * Curse * !”
(new scene)
Astatine: “I am pregnant - and it is not yours!”
(new scene)
Argon: “A storm is coming. It is washing away our gravest sins. Yes! We must weep! But we must also persevere!”
(dramatic music crescendo, procession of establishing visuals for every individual Orbitonians)
“Only one”
(bell, fade to black)
“Orbitonian”
(re-bell, re-fade to black)
“Will”
(re-re-bell, re-re-fade to black)
“Receive a free copy of my figurine-fiction novellas”
(peak dramatic intensity)
(fade to black)
And now, the exciting continuation of The Atomic Ball - The Atomic Ball: Part II !
Shattered glass. Iron woke up. It was the middle of the night, and he was lying in his delicate smelter; he had chosen a simple form, a perfectly smooth half-sphere, as his resting mold... It had provided him with a comfortable experience.
Up to now.
Footsteps. No less than ten. After a failed attempt at opening his night-room door, which, luckily, was locked from the inside, the invaders began pounding more aggressively; ultimately summoning what ought to have been an actual battering ram.
Iron geared up. He picked up his detective notebook, as well as a black pen, and started writing down the intimate details of how the situation was making him feel. His garment, his oh-so intelligent choice of clothing, laid on top of the back of some distant chair, for now discarded, somehow more of an intruder than whichever band of rascals were damaging his property.
He had very limited options; at best the attack would stop on its own, the participants leaving of their own volition; otherwise, the door could, perhaps, hold until morning, and someone could notice Iron’s absence at his usual commitments. At worst, he could try and hide the journal to be found by either Ruthenium or Osmium, his fellow detectives; this could very well be his last night witnessing the orbit of his electrons; the coupling of his neutrons and protons; the primal energy of his consciousness, and physical existence.
He made his silence his best weapon, and waited, for at least two hours, for the intruders to break through Platinum’s powerful craftmanship. The notebook, he stashed in the cursed gray dress, expecting that it was the place they would last expect to find it.
The pounding stopped. The sound of a key, sliding in the door. Iron was shocked to see the door open away from the hinges, in its normal, typical, door-like fashion. The owner of the only master key in all of Orbiton was ... was...
Hydrogen appeared in the room, instantly a dominant, yet familiar and reconcilable, presence.
“You are awake, it seems.” Hydrogen spoke to him.
“What is the meaning of this? What is going on?” replied a stern Iron.
“Detective, you will be detained as the primary suspect in the murder.”
“Murder!?!” exclaimed Iron!
There had never been a real murder outside of figurine-fiction novellas. Most orbitonian crimes involved loud music in public areas.
“Yes, murder.” confirmed Hydrogen.
“Who’s murder?”
Maybe it was the detective in him. Maybe it was simply looking at the ten-so elements staring right back at him, and recognizing a suspicious absence.
Who else to wish to witness him in distress?
Who else than Oxygen?
...
“No one saw you? No one can give testimony on your whereabouts at that time?”
Ruthenium was visibly uneasy with his charge. Yet he conducted the interrogation as well as he could. Iron was shacked to the table, trying not to look directly at the one-way mirror. He usually had knowledge of the individuals leaving and entering that adjoint room, and felt ever-so-slight insecurity and lack of control. His primary feeling, however, was jadedom.
“After Copper’s color reveal, all elements gathered at the Oxygilium. The court was held until early afternoon, anyone can attest both to my presence, and Oxygen’s. When the court was dismissed, the metals held their own private assembly - which you attended yourself - later in the evening was held an assembly held by Boron. You, specifically, asked me to speak in your name, because you were too tired. Osmium was present, and can confirm my list of who was present; but in essence, it was a conversation across branches of public function. Notable absents includes both Oxygen and Hydrogen...”
Iron tried but failed to not look at the mirror, as it could be interpreted negatively by a suspicious mind.
“...whom, in great likelihood, attended some alternative event that could have involved, as an example, Neon, Argon, the noble gases.”
“Pure conjecture.” retorted Ruthenium.
“After that, it was already dark outside. I went straight to bed. Hydrogen can doubtlessly confirm the following sequence of events.”
“Actually, he used his key immediately upon arrival on the scene.”
“Oh? Well, I will give you a really solid conjecture. What is more credible between Oxygen being executed by his betrayed peers, and their selecting me as a scapegoat, or my getting out of my meeting, tracking back to the Oxygilium, killing him, going to sleep at the Irotorum, and then ‘someone’ just ‘happens’ to find a dead Oxygen within the next hour or so, and raise a mob? What are the chances of my being alone with Oxygen and his body being found still warm, at night?”
The observation left Ruthenium silent; he pondered the possibility of a hot pursuit - yet onlookers would have doubtlessly witnessed some clamor.
“Or, as you said, maybe Hydrogen came as a separate group. To my domain? In the middle of the night? He knew something special that made him rescue me from a lynch plot. And that’s according to yourself!” concluded Iron, rather confident in the rationality of his persuasion.
“Your mind goes so fast, Iron, that one might be tempted not to give you the benefit of the doubt. An excellent detective makes for the slimiest criminal, no question about it.”
“If I was so clever, I would have a witness.”
“Anger does not listen to reason or patience.”
Ruthenium rose from his seat, signaling that the interrogation was nearly over. He spoke:
“I am following up on your suggestion of an alternative meeting. I want to know who was there, they might be suspect, maybe there could be some clues. But I am not going to lie to you, Iron, it’s either you or some lanthanide that has the most credible motive. For something as atrocious as murder? Everyone knows the decision of the court was intended to publicly humiliate you.”
They both looked away from each other. Two days ago, they were friends.
“But... I don’t believe you did it. If anything, I am betting you will be torturing yourself for the rest of your life.”
“And why is that?”
“No matter what you do, no matter what happens next, no matter the number of years, or earthquakes, or droughts, or the shape of the moon; no matter how much you may obsess over it, like a half-faded childhood dream, you will never ever know the answer of the question that has triggered all of this.”
“What question is that?”
For once, Iron was behind Ruthenium; the unshackled one took no small pleasure in such an occurrence.
In suspense, Ruthenium unlocked Iron from the table. Then, he finally answered:
“What is Oxygen’s color?”
Don’t forget to tune in for the next episode of The Atomic Ball - The Atomic Ball: Part III !29/05/29