BATTER 5

Baron flashed a gentle smile and sat down across from him. It felt as if an eternity had passed since they last sat face-to-face like this. The Boss, his bandaged wrist still in cuffs, looked up at Baron with eyes red and swollen from crying. A brief silence followed. Finally, Baron spoke.

“Hey there, kiddo.”

Having already been confronted by several other detectives, the Boss looked completely cowed. He hesitated for a long while before asking in a cracked voice.

“Ar… are you a policeman too, Mister…?”

“That’s right. I’m a policeman.”

“Did you… did you find my mommy?”

His voice was hoarse from terror and exhaustion. His tone was innocent, and his word choice was exactly like that of a little boy who truly knew nothing. Instead of feeling pity, Baron burst out laughing. He just couldn’t help himself!

This Boss had run thirty-five entertainment establishments across the city, exploiting his own kind in sexual and violent ways for a cheap price. He had aggressively distributed narcotics, unverified or smuggled medical drugs from Mars, and liquor that violated every food safety law imaginable to keep the citizens addicted.

How much better would it have been if he had remained satisfied with the position of the conquered, just as he had been in bed? His customers were the most vulnerable, and his products were the most vulnerable. Baron rubbed his mouth with his hand to stifle his laughter. Yes, cry. Cry like a baby.

Whether this was intentional or an accident, Boss… I don’t feel a shred of pity for you.

Baron waited for the Boss to stop crying. He tapped the table rhythmically, humming the melody of a favorite song under his breath. He kept his gaze fixed sharply on the Boss, and when the sobbing finally subsided, he asked in a kind tone.

“Do you know what today’s date is?”

“Why are you asking me that?”

Look at him. Even with his mind gone from losing his mother, he was still quite sharp.

“It’s an important matter if we’re going to find your mommy. What day do you think it is today?”

When told it was for the investigation, the fellow mumbled.

“April 12th.”

“And the year?”

When asked for the year, the Boss tilted his head as if he found it truly strange. Still, he offered an answer.

“2235…?”

“I see.”

It was a date from twenty-one years ago. Baron tapped the desk twice, quick and sharp as if deep in thought, and then stood up from his chair.

“We’ll work hard on it, but we might not be able to find your mommy right away. On the other hand, the more you help us, the faster we might find her.”

“Really…?”

The Boss looked up at Baron with expectant eyes. To this, Baron merely offered a smile. Just as he had when he told the man he loved him.

“Yeah.”

The moment he stepped out and closed the interrogation room door, Baron spoke up.

“The Boss is from the South American Union. There was a civil war there twenty-one years ago.”

Too many people had died or gone missing back then, and the chaotic federal government had been paralyzed. Liz’s attention shifted to him. Baron explained, tracing back his memories of his time as Paul.

“He was a diligent villain, you know, but for exactly two days a year, he wouldn’t touch a drop of alcohol and would lock himself away in a back room. June 3rd. And…”

“April 13th, 2235. The date the first official bombing occurred.”

Liz answered intuitively. Baron snapped his fingers with a sharp crack.

“The Boss’s mother died that day, and his father died about a month and a half later.”

Technically, he’d gone missing, but since he never turned up again, it was essentially the same as being dead. A subtle flicker of emotion crossed Liz’s habitually dry expression. Baron shrugged.

“It’s a common story in this line of work, isn’t it? Don’t feel too bad for him, Liz.”

“Who said I felt bad?”

Liz’s gaze was sharp. Baron asked with a beaming smile.

“What about the memories of the other executives? What happened after the last dates they remember?”

A spark flickered in Liz’s dark eyes like an electric short. Baron laughed and playfully pretended to lean on his colleague’s shoulder.

“Anyway, will you have dinner with me? All this talking has made me hungry.”

“I figured as much, so I ordered takeout. It should be at your desk by now.”

“Ah, bliss. What’s the menu?”

“Chow mein.”

“I’m not really in a chow mein mood today…”

Liz walked away quickly, leaving her colleague behind to pretend-cry. In truth, Baron could stomach just about anything. In the end, his dinner was Chinese-style stir-fried noodles. The fact that the shrimp in this dish were real shrimp was enough to be moved by. Baron slurped up a mouthful of the salty noodles and proposed a question.

“Okay, let’s summarize. Our amnesiacs have varying levels of cognitive ability and memory loss. Unless it’s a coincidence, the Boss’s memory and cognitive functions have reverted to a time before a traumatic injury. Assuming this is correct, what method did they use? Drugs, surgery, hypnosis?”

“There are such drugs and procedures. We’ve already requested a toxicology screen, so we’ll know more once that’s back. But whatever it was, unless they were just randomly wiping out chunks of memory, they would’ve needed a professional. Even if it was just some unlicensed quack. It’s a very delicate skill.”

“At least it wasn’t any method previously reported. Man, this shrimp is actually decent.”

The only thing scientists can’t create in a lab these days is God. Though maybe they’ve already done that, too. Still, why did “real” food from a real ocean and real fields feel better? Baron chewed and swallowed a piece of springy shrimp meat and offered a new hypothesis.

“Maybe it’s mass food poisoning?”

“Haha.”

Liz let out a laugh while maintaining a deadpan face. Baron laughed back at that dry expression.

“You look like an android with a glitch. And the food poisoning thing was a fairly serious suggestion.”

“I laughed seriously, too.”

“Do you really think ‘serious’ and ‘laugh’ can belong in the same sentence?” Baron argued pointlessly. While the unfunny joke floated around one-sidedly, the stir-fried noodles nearly hit the bottom. It was a decent meal. The deduction continued even as they briskly cleared the table.

“Is the common contact for the amnesiacs the lawyer? Was there any suspicious behavior while he was with them?”

“I swear, there was none. Same goes for the physical search. We checked him thoroughly both when he entered and when he left.”

“Right… No matter how much you want to claim diminished responsibility, there’s no lawyer who would actually diminish his client’s responsibility by making them lose their mind. Unless this phenomenon is temporary.”

“I’ve kept that in mind too. For now, we have to wait for the test results…”

“So for the time being, we wait?”

Baron looked down at his empty paper plate. Stray bits of sauce were smeared across its surface.

“Come to think of it, did those guys eat?”

“Yeah, a while ago. It was just before the interrogation.”

“What did you feed them? Chow mein?”

“What, do you think today is Thanksgiving? I gave them the standard capsules. We can’t interrogate them if they’re passing out from malnutrition.”

“Ugh, those taste terrible. They smell like shit, too. I tried one once, and that godawful smell lingered for hours.”

“I know.”

“Like… like someone puked after drinking too much, then dried it and turned it into a powder…”

“Stop with the shitty descriptions.”

The capsules provided essential nutrients and calories for life in two pills a day. This meant taste was not guaranteed. Baron shuddered, recalling the taste of the capsules he’d tried a few times. Calling it the taste of dried puke powder was no exaggeration. In fact, since the smell and taste stayed in your mouth for hours after ingestion, calling it “the worst” was fitting. Baron winked at Liz.

“I’m gonna go toss the trash.”

“Let Jerry do it.”

“I need the exercise.”