The interrogating officer massaged his forehead. “You do realize that breaking and entering is a crime, don’t you, uh—” He looked down at his clipboard. “—Mr. Malwitz?”
“Your arbitrary laws dealing with principled absolutes aren’t flexible enough to take into account artistic endeavor. This is the stuff of life. The state’s legalistic framework encroaches on the very spirit of defending life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Rules strangle creativity.”
The officer’s eyes contorted in pain. “I’m going to need some coffee. Do you want a cup?” As he slid back and pushed himself up from his chair, the metal legs screeched on the tiled floor.
Mr. Malwitz flinched from the noise. “No, thank you. I don’t believe in putting chemicals like caffeine in my body. I find that, when I brush my teeth, that stimulates my morning more than any cup of Joe.”
“Of course.” The officer left the interrogation room and entered the one next over. “Damn it. I hate being stuck in a room with a nut job. I feel like they’ve got what they wanted: reality shrunk to two people—-with a seemingly even footing on what’s right and what’s wrong. This asshole thinks he’s the Tooth Fairy, yet he’s talking to me like I’m his student.” He looked at his colleague earnestly. “Frank, I need someone else in there with me when I’m talking to him.”
“Listen to me closely now, Larry. I’m your friend. I’m not fucking with you. I just got word that three little girls have been found killed, and their teeth were missing. We’ve got reason to believe it was Malwitz. This guy doesn’t just break into houses. He’s a killer, and we need to find out who and where the other victims are.”
“No… I refuse to go back in there alone with that sick motherfucker.”
“What makes you think the two of us being in there is going to solve anything? The chief assigned you this role, and you barely lasted a minute.” Frank diverted eye contact. “If we both go in there, he may feel ganged up on and he’ll lose whatever trust he’s built up with you. If that happens, we can’t reverse time to see what could have been accomplished with this approach.”
“I can’t do it right now. It was bad enough before I knew about the girls.”
Frank relaxed his posture. “I get it. You know what? Fuck it. Let him stay frosty in there for a few hours. Let’s get out of here.”
“Do you think the chief would approve of that?”
“You’ve earned it, and I’m hungry. I’m in the mood for a good hot dog, with diced onions and yellow mustard.”
“Sure. Why the hell not?” Larry got out his keys. “I’ll drive.”
A green mist poured out of the vents. It slowly descended. Time began to churn slower. Each moment was a cog locking and unlocking in a system of gears, always losing momentum.
Frank turned to see Larry was a hissing, four-foot-tall lizard with red eyes.
Larry tried to ask Frank what was going on, but only worms came out of his mouth. The floor tiles looked like television screens on static.
A bright green light emerged from the light fixture above them. It lowered itself gradually and declared: “Attention: Mr. Malwitz must be allowed to kill one more child. Release him.”
Frank shook his head. “What the hell is happening?”
“We have temporarily altered your state of consciousness so that you can hear and see us.”
Larry still couldn’t speak. Too many worms came out. He felt that, if he kept his lips sealed tight enough, maybe they’d stop generating. It didn’t help in the slightest.
Frank closed his eyes. He was frightened what else he might see. Everything moved in unnatural ways. “Please, stop.”
“You must pay attention: Free Mr. Malwitz.”
“He’s a murderer.” It was a struggle for Frank to keep his balance with his eyes shut.
“We know. If he doesn’t kill Jessica Blake, she will accidentally destroy the Earth.”
“Accidentally?”
“She’ll psychically implode the Earth. She needs to die.”
Larry swallowed the worms and stood in triumph. “No. The Tooth Fairy is a bad man. We won’t release him. I won’t let Jessica Blake or any other girl suffer that man’s cruel torture for anything: not even the fate of our planet.”
The green orb brightened. “Doesn’t that seem irrational to you? There are billions of humans who live meaningful lives. Would you sacrifice all of them—-including Jessica—-for one?”
Frank’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected to hear Larry’s voice, and he was pleasantly surprised to see he wasn’t a lizard-man any more. “Larry is right. No girl should be made to suffer that way. If the universe is going to back us into this corner, then I choose the dignified route. The Earth imploding sounds pretty quick and painless anyway.” He grinned. “Besides, maybe you’re wrong and my partner and I are just tripping on some psychedelic smoke bomb.”
“Yeah!” Larry raised a finger in accusation. “How do we know this isn’t a break-out attempt? Who did you say you were again?”
The orb altered from green to a yellow hue, then transformed into a pyramid. “We are a hyper-intelligent, multi-dimensional collective that polices many space-time matrices. It is in everybody’s self-interest if the human race was not destroyed yet.”
“And why is that?”
“And why should we trust you that you are what you say you are?” Frank added.
The yellow pyramid shape-shifted into a doughnut of gold. “Humanity has such a rich diversity of pain and beauty that it’s a universally appreciated art.” The doughnut divided into three, creating a triquetrous knot. Its color became a dark red.
“You didn’t answer why we should trust you.” Frank, crossing his arms, looked at Larry.
“I have no way of proving what I had to say. The council of nineteen voted that only you two should have the capability of stopping the Earth’s demise-—and only in this way.”
“It seems to me,” Larry said, “that this council of nineteen is full of shit, and so are you. Now stop releasing your noxious fumes. I’ve made my decision.”
The triple-doughnut returned to being a sphere. “Do you agree with him, Frank?”
“I do.” He patted his belly. “And I’m still hungry for a hot dog with diced onions and yellow mustard.”
Larry smiled and nodded.
Daniel J. Neumann is a science fiction novelist and poet as well as a freelance writer, editor, and social media specialist. You can check out more of his ideas at danieljneumann.com.
Tags: Daniel J. Neumann, flash fiction, short stories, tooth fairy