Short Fiction

Checkmate Inmate

Why did overtaking the world have to be such a pain in the ass?

Darkness hounded at Dr. Savant. His ears rang. He closed his eyes to escape, only to be met by flickers of fire. Flashes of agony. His hand snapped to his forearm. A harsh burn was there. It was already an hour old, but the pain still stabbed.

Dr. Savant breathed in, then out. Meditation was key to overcoming pain. Large intakes of oxygen were all that the frontal lobe needed to be distracted by the external and remember the internal. Yes, the burn on his forearm was already starting to fade. It didn’t exist.

Iron shrilly scraped against iron. A clang resounded. Lights buzzed on. Dr. Savant recoiled and shielded his metal eye.

“Protecting your face with a cannon for an arm? Can’t imagine that’s comfy…”

It was officer Brent. His hands rested on his belt buckle, as he put on a doughy grin. Clones of him surrounded Dr. Savant in mirrors, in three directions.

“Yeah, well, you disabled them,” said Dr. Savant. “This is about the only thing I can do.”

“We could’ve let you do less. I wanted to have the boys handcuff you. The only reason you’re allowed to do anything is because the chief doesn’t want to step on any political toes.”

“Don’t worry: Tarkistan won’t be trying to take me back, any time soon.”

Brent nodded, but chewed on his bottom lip.

“Yeah, I’d imagine. First you try nuking America, then you try nuking your own country… You rule an entire country, and then try to nuke it? What’s the deal with that?”

“It wasn’t a nuke. It was a laser.”

“Good point. So, what’s your game plan? What are you hiding? Why did you let us arrest you?”

Dr. Savant suppressed a laugh. Brent’s speech was cold and mechanical. Yet, tinges of emotion seeped in. The room was so barren. Nonetheless, Brent walked around Dr. Savant, glowering. He moved as if he owned the room.

“Let you?” Dr. Savant said. “I thought you guys apprehended me. Thwarted my plan. That is, you guys, and ‘Captain Merit’. I’m sure that’s the story being put on the broadcasts, right?”

Brent leaned in, his jaw jutting. The heat of his breath bristled against Dr. Savant’s skin.

“I know your capabilities, doctor,” said Brent. “Guys like you don’t lose by accident. I see you come in and out of this place, like it’s a revolving door. And, each time, you seem more comfortable than the last.”

“Have to admit: you guys do make some mean eggs.”

Brent slammed the table. It shook, just for a moment.

“Answer me, doctor: why are you here?”

“I want to take over the world. But, since I can’t, I’ve started thinking: maybe just taking over this prison will do.”

Brent’s heartrate was pounding, ever so slightly. His face flushed red. His hand gravitated toward his taser. Dr. Savant merely leaned further back in his chair.

“I have a question for you, Brent. I terrorize my people — the country of Tarkistan. Then I come here. I try and fail to take over the world, a million times over. Every time, I’m barely beaten. Every time, you let me live. You put me in a cell. Why am I alive?”

Brent seethed. “Because, Captain Merit lets you live.”

“You guys could kill me at any time though. Shoot me, starve me, stick me in an electric chair. Why haven’t you?”

“We can’t. The law won’t let us. But, I’ll make sure of one thing: we don’t ever let you get away with your plan.”

“Sure you will, Brent. Sure you will.”

There was another buzz.

“Alright Brent, time’s up,” speakers warbled. “We have to throw him in confinement now, with the rest of the prisoners.”

Brent glared at Dr. Savant. “If you’re hiding a superweapon under your sleeve, be aware: this time, I’m going to find it. And, I’m going to make sure that we have you put on death row.”

Dr. Savant waved his cannon for an arm. “Goodbye, Brent,” he said. “Have a nice weekend.

Brent muttered something that Dr. Savant couldn’t quite hear.

The iron curtain creaked open. It clanged shut.

Another door creaked open, from behind Dr. Savant. There was the sound of applause, and cheers. Dr. Savant grinned and turned around. His arms outstretched, he sauntered ahead.

“Yes, that’s right: I have returned!”

He entered a cluster of crowd of inmates. Though, their eyes told a different story. They were audience members, and Dr. Savant was the star of the show. Bodyguards even flanked Dr. Savant’s side. Granted, the bodyguards were more for the inmates’ safety than Dr. Savant. Yet, was there really a difference?