Owl's Interrogation

Stefolous struggled to lift his head up, then found that he could not turn his neck without wincing as a bolt of pain shot up and down his forelegs. One of his eyes would not open.

"Don't move about, they will hear you," a soft hoot said, "and when they find that you are awake, they will beat you again."

"Won't they hear us talking?" he asked

"The corn snakes are on duty today. They are both deaf, but they can feel vibrations, so keep still."

When the tortoise stuck out his head a little further, stopping just where the pain was about to become unbearable, he saw Owl's shivering figure in the grey light. Stefolous thought it strange that he could see the bruises along his neck and underbelly. Then it dawned on him - there were no feathers about those parts of his body.

"Did they do that to you?" his journalistic self asked.

"Yes, they wanted to know how I got my information."

"Did they manage to get the informant's name from you?"

"No, because there is no informant. All I did was compare the numbers to other similar financial statements, and found the numbers to be skewed, so I began an investigation. That was when I found out about the phantom organizations."

"They will have a difficult time trying to explain what they did to us once we are out of here."

Owl hunkered to the ground. "They don't have to explain. It is all too easy to say that we have escaped and disappeared into the wilderness."

"The carrion birds will scent us out. They can smell even a day-old dead mouse from a mile away."

"That is why the bodies are not thrown out of the cave. There are many omnivores and carnivores among the guards." Owl coughed and shivered violently as the ghost of a memory went past him.

Stefolous lowered his sore heard. The walls and the ground had begun to spin around him and he had to close his eyes.

A scrambling, rustling tide of an army of little feet broke the silence of the cave and soon a row of mice appeared. Rat, blacker and larger than the rest, sniffed about Stefolous then turned and approached Owl.

"Well Owl, are you ready to tell the truth today?"

"I have always told you the truth."

"Who is your informant?"

"There is no informant. I tell you, the numbers speak for themselves."

"Someone told you where to find those numbers."

"I am the Chief Accountant. You yourself passed me the books. I notice the discrepancy and informed you."

"You are lying!! Guards! Teach him a lesson."

Dull thuds followed by hoots and shrieks reached Stefolous through his curtain of pain. As he drifted in and out of consciousness, the same line of questioning against Owl continued. Finally there was only the silence of the cave and Owl's ragged breathing.

Rat squeaked, "This interrogation will break him one day. Prepare a report to the committee to say that Owl is again uncooperative and unwilling to share his information."

"Yes, Mr. Vice President," a field-mouse replied.

More rustling and scampering and the entourage was gone.

Vice President? Stefolous wondered as he lifted his head. He could barely make out Owl's silhouette, which was left to lie on a bed of shredded feathers and blood.

The whip of a tail, accompanied by spasmodic thumping reached his ears. Stefolous turned his good eye to the tunnel, expecting another horror to walk in on him.

A weasel, bloodied from mouth to underbelly, scampered in. Behind her were two others of her kind, who were as equally bloody. They searched about the cells, then the first stopped and sniffed Owl.

"Sisters, we are too late," she called back.

"He is still alive, but unconscious," Stefolous said.

Three pairs of weasel eyes turned to him and the apparent leader snarled, "Who are you?"

"I am Stefolous, the editor of the Tortoise Express."

"I have heard of you," a second weasel said. "My name is Winnie, and these two are Wilma and Wanda," she said as she pointed her nose to the first and third weasel in turn.

"Can you walk?" Wilma asked.

Stefolous stood up, and again the walls began to spin. "Yes, I can. But I will need help to keep me steady."

"I have a better idea," Winnie said. "Let's flip you on your back, and put Owl on your underbelly. Then we can pushed the two of you out of the cave and lower you down the side of the cliff."

Stefolous agreed, though a part of him prayed that they would not meet any other tortoises else he would never be able to explain away the demeaning treatment. Dying or not, there are things a self-respecting tortoise should never do.

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