“Thought you were a mathematician.”
“I am, indeed,” said Flick, “but that doesn’t preclude my acquiring knowledge in other fields. In fact, it enhances it. Mathematics engenders an overall sense of intellectual inquisitiveness and creative problem solving and is the undisputed ruler of academia.”
“You’re interested in the world.”
“In the meaningful aspects of the world.”
“Ah.”
“I don’t expect you to fully grasp it,” said Flick. “But once you’re out of here, give it some thought and you may glean a bit of insight.”
“Thanks for the encouragement,” said Milo.
“So,” said Flick, “you’re undoubtedly wondering why I’ve summoned you.”
Milo said nothing.
Flick said, “That’s not going to work, you’re curious and showing it. And let me emphasize that I use the term intentionally. Summoned. I called, you arrived, obedient as a trained poodle. With a sidekick so you can appear more authoritative but that does nothing to alter the basics.”
Dismissive smile in my direction. I was ready for it and had looked away.
Flick frowned. “Would you care to ask?”
Milo said, “Ask what?”
“Why I’ve summoned you?”
“This isn’t a game, Cameron. If you have something to say, say it. If not, see you at trial.”
“Now that you mention it,” said Flick. “That’swhy you’re here. To become educated about the trial. I’m putting you on my list as a defense witness and thought it would be a gracious notion to inform you so that you can prepare your testimony.”
“You want me to be on your side.”
Flick said, “It’s not a matter of what I want. It’s what will transpire. You’ll be on the defense list and that fact will be noted. Once you’ve parroted the prosecution case as their unsurprising pawn, I’ll have my way with you and get to the core.”
Licking his lips on “have my way.”
Milo said, “Ah.”
“Milo, Milo, Milo,” said Flick, “you can posture all you like but you will help me, despite yourself. Here’s why: A. You’re more aware than any juror of my intentions and we will explore that in great detail.Including the heroism/criminal dichotomy I’ve just cited. B. You’re aware of the precision of my shots. A single, precisely placed bullet that managed to sever the carotid artery, the jugular vein, and the trachea. A triumph of marksmanship aimed—pun intended—on reducing needless pain.”
Milo said, “You engaged in humane slaughter.”
“If you must,” said Cameron Flick. “But that’s selling me short. Not far from where I grew up there was a slaughterhouse. Cows and bulls dispatched daily so the world could have burgers. When the wind was right, their lowing and moaning could be heard for miles. Traveling along with the stink.”
Another lip-lick. Violence and sexuality melded early.
“As a child, I’d go over there to catch a glimpse of how the poor bovines were actually processed. Quite a mundane but nonetheless bloody routine. Hoisted, shackled, a shotgun shell to the skull, then the butchers would get busy with their long knives whether or not the animal’s chest was still heaving.”
Milo said, “Did that turn you into a vegetarian?”
Flick’s lips pursed. Genuinely perplexed. “Why would it? I’m merely pointing out that my military mission was maximally humane, far beyond anything offered to animals or humans. And that the targeted enemy had in every case committed a heinous act.”
“You think if you get me to say those things you’ll be acquitted.”
“If not acquitted, I’ll be offered a brief, relatively benign sentence, which my good behavior will shorten further. In the meantime, a time-limited incarceration will be easier on me than on other inmates. I’ll engage in my studies.”
“Ph.D. in math.”
