...but...
SOMEWHERE IN PARAGON CITY, the “City of Heroes”, July 22rd, 2004
Where am I?
Do you know where you are?
Where the hell am I?
Do you know your name?
River.
You think you are by a river?
No, that’s my name.
Your name is River?
River. River Dane.
Good, that’s a start Mr. Dane.
Where is the stuff?
Who the fuck are you?
Dr. Wylde, Mr. Dane. Camille Wylde, we found you…
Where is my stuff?
By stuff if you are referring to…
Where the hell is the stuff!?
The Superadine has been given to the proper authorities…
What are you, cops? Am I under arrest?
I told you already, Mr. Dane, I am a doctor…
I don’t need a goddamned doctor, I need my stuff…
The Superadine you have been taking nearly killed you. You were shooting it directly, according to the track marks on your arms and the blood tests we ran on you…
You ran blood tests?
We found you twitching on the street in front of the statue of Atlas in Atlas Park. Just taking it in those quantities orally would have turned you into one of the Trolls in less than a week, but to shoot it directly…
What?
…would have killed you. Your body has already begun Troll transformation, but it manifested itself in quite a different way. Altered your body chemistry, your brain chemistry…
So, what? I don’t feel any different. Hell, I feel better than I have in years…
Thirsty. I’m thirsty as hell…
That’s because of the cleanout we did of your system. We’ve removed most of the drug from your body, but your altered genetic code….that we couldn’t do anything about.
So…what’s wrong with me? And why am I so damned thirsty?
You have been fed intravenously for two weeks.
TWO WEEKS?? I’ve been unconscious for two weeks?
Mr. Dane, the amount of Superadine you had shot into your veins should have killed you. We have been sustaining your life for two weeks….thirteen days, four hours, actually.
Why?
I wanted to die, you bitch...
It is my oath as a doctor…
To hell with your oath! Why didn’t you let me die?
Why did you want to kill yourself, Mr. Dane? And why such a cowardly fashion as overdosing?
Don’t you judge me, you smug bitch!
Relax, Mr. Dane. I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.
It sure as fuck was.
Do you remember the day you OD’d? What was going on in your mind?
Mind? I had no mind.
Try to remember, I need to know how much you took. And what strain it was. Where did you pick it up? Because what it did to you, genetically…
What DID it do to me, what are you hinting at, lady?
First, talk to me. Then, I’ll tell you about what you did to yourself.
Fine. I talk, then you talk. Is this being taped?
Yes.
I don’t want this shit on tape.
It is not for use against you in court. There will be no prosecution, not even for possession. You hardly had any of it on you, you nearly shot it all.
No prosecution.
For what, being under the influence? The courts have no time for that. Not after the Rikti invasion.
Then this tape is for?
Research.
Fine. Start your tape.
It has been recording since you woke.
Without my consent?
Mr. Dane. You owe your life to us. There is no consent. We own you now.
Own?
Where did start looking for Superadine on the night of July 9th, 2004?
Own?
Please answer the question, Mr. Dane.
Fine. But when this is over, we’re going to talk about this ‘own’ shit.
We will talk about a great many things, I imagine, Mr. Dane. But first. July 9th.
Ok, ok. July 9th. Skyway City…
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