The Interrogator

Once more the Inspector was led through a maze of corridors. In silence he followed the Representative, who seemed anxious about what was to follow: He still spoke with the imitative voice, but gone was the relaxed confidence, it became awkward; punctuated by silences. He didn’t know how to accommodate the Inspector’s disagreeable nature. All that he could do was promise there would be an end to the confusion, but the Inspector was beginning to suspect that the Representative didn’t know very much about the Company.

“The Company’s a delicate place,” lectured the Representative, “There’re lots of formalities, because of our complex, experimental nature…”

“I understand Representative, very clearly. It’s the other things which confuses me. I can respect someone with no difficulty. 

But to pretend a dog is a man, to call a child a “proto-worker”? Can’t you see the difference?”

“Perhaps,” replied the Representative, “but you’ll see eventually there’s no real difference between these things: it’s but the same logic taken a bit further, and that’s what the Future is �" going a bit further.”  His voice changed into a stricter imitation of the Man in White: “It’s but the fooled notion of a child to think he can go alone; we must know the value of others.”

The Inspector responded to this brazen moralising with a stern silence; he didn’t appreciate the insinuations that the fault lay with him. Though the Inspector was willing to alter his behaviour, he would so only if it was reasonable; He would need to get along if he was to conclude his Inspection with any legitimacy. The Representative lapsed likewise into silence, like a parrot who had exhausted its reserves of imitation.

At the end of a long corridor stood a door with a glazed-glass window. A metal plate above read: “The Interrogation room.”

“If you’ll take a seat inside, Inspector” said the Representative, “The Interrogator will be with you shortly.”

“Are you not coming with me?”

“No, but I’ll wait here. There’s no reason why I should follow. The Interrogator is versed in the difficulty that some face in 

the Company, he’ll explain everything.”

It was clear the Representative had no desire to find himself in a precarious position again. “And likewise,” he continued, trying to sure up his reasoning, “I’d just be sitting in the corner like a spare part.”

“Have you told him I was coming?”

“He’ll know.” said the Representative forebodingly, “It’s all a matter of perspective,” he tapped his temple with his finger.  

“Just try to get a different perspective… move a bit left or right, that’s what I believe.”

“What should I expect?” asked the Inspector, recalling the Representative’s tendency to leave him uninformed.

“Good luck, Inspector.” Said the Representative with a smile, “Welcome to the Future.”

Seeing nothing for it the Inspector entered the Interrogation Room.

Inside was a little box room, empty aside from a fold-up table and two chairs placed in the centre. After a little pause, to survey the room, the Inspector seated himself on the chair which gave vantage of the door.

                Before long he grew restless and began to look around, searching. He felt an awareness that something was blatantly out of place, yet he couldn’t discern exactly what it was.

                Presently, the silence was interrupted by a faint sound of scratching coming from the walls. As the Inspector strained his ear to listen it stopped, only to start again when his mind returned to wandering. Eventually he gave himself to understand that it was nothing but the rush of water through pipes, or perhaps someone working in an adjoining room. He returned to his thoughts, restless, there was something off about this Company, but what? … again, the sound, a faint scratching, like a rat in the wall. Something surreal followed: a little door hidden in the wall opened up, and a grotesque creature climbed out --  A little man proceeded to scurry out like a beast on all fours, his a*s high in the air, he almost seemed to gallop as he began to circle the table, like a cavalry round a stranger in days of old, his feet and hands patting the floor with each stride. The Inspector watched startled, concerned, overwhelmed by grotesque curiosity.

                Eventually the galloping developed into scurrying, utterly disorientating the Inspector. Finally the strange fellow stopped his inexplicable manoeuvring and clambered onto the chair opposite the Inspector; saying not a word.

This was the Interrogator guessed the Inspector, getting a good look at him: He was perhaps the most wretched creature which the pantheon of human possibilities could assemble; a disgusting sight that destroyed the appetite, unclean in the most unsubtle way; every crevice of his body gathered with grime and gunk; he didn’t so much as clear the sand from his eyes. His nails were long and coated with dirt, completely despicable in every conceivable aspect. A sinister, cold look gazed from hollowed eyes; an underground man who had never seen the light of day, having lived all its life in a well.

He lent a mistrustful eye to the Inspector, as if never seeing another human being before; His head turned so that only one eye watched the Inspector fully, while he removed from his pocket a sheet of paper, and from over his ear a pen. He never ceased staring at the Inspector, who grew uncomfortable and shifted in his seat. “You’re the Interrogator?” he ventured, not sure whether this creature could fathom him.

“Perhaps,” came a voice ugly and deformed, as if his development into adulthood had been maliciously derailed and he was left an unformed thing: “But you are certainly the Inspector, yes, I have never seen you before. And you are sitting in my office, so you must be �" him.”

                The Inspector felt the impression that the Interrogator was a dangerous beast which the Representative had offered a sacrifice to in order to subdue, yes, he was a sacrifice to this fellow.

 “Inspector, I am going to ask you a few questions, and I would like you to answer them very quickly. Do not be startled, it is just a formality. First and foremost, why are you here?”

“I’m here to Inspect the Company.”

“I see, and what does that entail?”

The Inspector thought for a moment: “It necessarily requires that I examine all the moving parts of the Company, as it were, to ensure they’re in line with legal standards and requirements.”

“And what do you do… exactly? Do you … let us say, look at the company… closely?” the Interrogator screwed his eyes and leaned in subtly. He looked as though he were not so concerned about the answer the Inspector gave as he was about the Inspector’s reaction to the question.

“I suppose you could say it’s something like that. Though it entails a comparison �" to the standards. And that’s how I measure its sufficiency.”

The Interrogator chuckled, then glanced up quickly with a very sinister look in his eye, before looking down again, just as quickly. He returned his eye to the paper, “Yes, very good, very good,” he said, in a low voice, almost to himself. He seemed to be thinking of something. He eyed the sheet with distance, as though he was thinking about his thoughts. “And do you, eh…. Do you recall a specific incident that took place an hour before now, in the eh… while conducting your inspection?”

The Inspector thought for a moment, the question struck him as somewhat out of place: “Well I could perhaps name a few incidents that’ve occurred during my inspection.”

“Ah, I see…” said the Interrogator, and he chuckled again, but lowly, menacingly, “I presume that your life may be described as a series of incidents? Surely you will recall an incident taking place earlier. Perhaps there were a number of incidents…  let us take these incidents and speak of them in an abstract let us say generalised way and say that all these incidents are but one and let us call these incidents The incident. �" just to simplify matters, that is!”

“Alright,” said the Inspector, shifting himself in his chair uncomfortably, “That’s fine.”

“Good, good,” said the Interrogator, grabbing the sheet of paper before him, and going silent for a moment. He began to tap the edge of the paper on the table, “Would it …bother you, Inspector, if I were to say, that when The incident took place, you were in The Vicinity?”

“Well… I suppose that would be fine-- but what’s the point of these questions? What’re you getting at?”

“Inspector, do not worry!” seized the Interrogator, and his smile was wide and friendly, “It is all just a formality, really there is nothing… �" but you would find not fault in what I have just mentioned?”

“No, of course, I was surely present. It’s just that I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

The Interrogator scribed in the margins of his sheet �" he had about five or six sheets arrayed in a pile before him. He thought for a moment, and then smiled again, “Forget I ever mentioned it �" I mean the incident, or the vicinity. It is just a little thing that happened to you I imagine, nothing important. An accident more than likely. We will return to more appropriate questions. Questions that will not trouble you.” The interrogator made to shuffle the sheets on the table before him, as if he were finding a different question sheet, but really he had not changed the sheets at all; he looked briefly at the other papers, before returning to the first one. He ticked a box with his pen, and then, after a moment, he ticked another box. 

“And so you have met the Man in White?”

“Yes, I met him at the reception. I’ve since been passed onto his representative.”

The Interrogator began to chuckle, as if the idea of the Inspector being led about by the Representative was humorous. He quickly composed himself, before breaking again into a spout of chuckling, loud and conspicuous. He took a brief glance at the Inspector before he returned to a stern, professional look. “Yes, yes … the Representative.”  The Interrogator grimaced, 

“So you have met the Representative of the Man in White, and you have met the Man in White too, and I imagine this is the first thing that you have encountered in the Company that has struck you as strange, that we all have representatives? Can you tell me about what you thought about that encounter? Did it make you… wonder?”

“Yes, it was all quite strange. And really I’m glad that you‘ve brought this up. I recall three receptions areas as well �" it was all a bit of a shock. But also there was an incident at the intercom �" the welcoming committee? And that left a sour taste in my mouth, all these things seem so….”

The Interrogator waved his hand dismissively, “The receptions are just … an experiment; do not worry about them. Would you say that you are getting used to the Company?” he asked genuinely, “Everyone finds it strange at first.”

“No, not really. I’m certainly more aware of how things are �" but I wouldn’t say I’m getting used to it.”

A grave silence ensued; It implied there was something wrong with the Inspector feeling this way. “You mentioned an incident earlier…” began the Interrogator suddenly, knitting his brows for a moment. He began to twirl his pen, the head of which he had dug into the table. He watched it as he spoke, “An intercom incident” He said with a calm smile, “and this intercom fellow, who I know, -- I presume that you did not like him, but that is neither here nor there. Though I don’t like him either �" forget I said that though. What I would like to know is this: were you the one who first initiated the incident?” The interrogator’s eyes shot up with a strange quizzical look took to his face, as though to gauge to Inspector in some way.

The Inspector paused and cleared his throat. The room was remarkably still: “Well maybe,… I needed to enter the Company to conduct my inspection, and I couldn’t do so without being allowed entry, obviously. So it would be true to say I initiated it.”

“Would you mind if I called you, The Perpetrator of The Incident, or would that be incorrect?”

“Well no, I wouldn’t like to be called that. The language is a bit too, negative �" I didn’t perpetrate anything. I was asked absurd questions. He proceeded to insult me. It got out of hand.”

“Yet you were in The Vicinity, and did you not say that you initiated The Incident?  You would say then that the intercom officer was The Perpetrator? But was he not simply conducting his role, carrying out his protocols and procedures? What then can be said of you but that you were The Perpetrator of The Incident? As for the insults, they are not relevant for our concern is who perpetrated The Incident, that is, who caused it to come about.”

 “You’re framing the situation to make me look bad. I don’t appreciate that.”

“Give me a moment, just a second,” said the Interrogator, almost hushing him “It is not what you think it is. Nothing will come of this beyond … a certain understanding. You see, I am just trying to convey to you how The Incident would appear to an outside observer.” The inspector began to shake his head disagreeably, “Just a moment Inspector, I will explain it. Just imagine, perhaps, that you are The Perpetrator, for just a moment �" if you will �" if you will.”

“I will not.” Said the Inspector, “You’re working against me, clear as day.”

“I am not working against yourself, Inspector. I am trying to help you understand.”

“Understand what?”

“The Company, and how it works.”

“I don’t need help understanding it. I know exactly what’s happening. I have registered the facts of the matter quite clearly. You are playing word games with me, mind games,  trying to manipulate me.”

“Inspector do not take offence, please!  This is all just a formality. If you do not like this approach, we will change it. I merely wished to highlight the curious nature of this affair; do you not find it curious how the logic of the matter is so clear, and yet you denounce it? By all logic you would be the perpetrator, yet when you are backed into a corner, you flip the table and cry havoc? But let us leave that aside for now, let us move on to something else.”

“Yes, let’s move onto something else.”

The Interrogator smiled again, a genuine smile this time, as though recollecting something: “Let us examine the nature of your Inspection. It entails, evidently, the asking of numerous question; surely you understand the nature of questions? Their directness, their ambiguity at times? I could be referring to any number of things with any question I ask. Perhaps I myself struggle to understand what I am asking. But who is it who decides that? Is it me or you?”

“You’re complicating matters immensely,” replied the Inspector. “Questions are simple; Difficulty arises only when one party seeks to mislead the other.”

The interrogator brushed this aside: “To you, perhaps, things must be so simple. And yet you struggle with the answers given by members of the Company. But let us say that an answer given to a specific question is correct, but let us say also, that though it is correct, it is not right, in the moral sense of the word.”

“What’re you trying to say?” said the Inspector.

“I am saying that in this Company it is not sufficient for an answer to merely be correct, it must also be right. What I mean to say is that there is more complexity to the matter at hand. You must be informed of this surely? You will be forgiven if you are not; Tell me Inspector, have you ever considered whether the questions you asked were right?” 

“The morality of a question does not override my right to ask it.”

“So you are immoral?” said the Interrogator musingly, ignoring everything else that had been said, “It is easy now to see where difficulty lay in The Incident from before. You are immoral, and that is the cause. You are only concerned with your brutish obsession for direct answers, never stopping to think whether the questions you ask are right. Inspector, in this Company you must show a little more presence of mind. Perhaps then the number of incidents will decrease. Let us return to the argument from before, very briefly, simply to highlight something. Consider that an incident has occurred, and there is a perpetrator--”

“Did you know that the Hiring Officer is a dog?” interrupted the Inspector, altogether sick of the euphemistic tiptoeing about.

“He is…”  and the Interrogator hawked phlegm into the back of his throat, but didn’t spit, “a mutt… but… deserving of respect.” He said these last few words with gritted teeth, and with such spite that the Inspector could only hold him in disdain despite his clear acquiescence to his view. “Nevertheless; There is something to be said about your behaviour. Do you understand inspector that there is something that must be understood? An unseen thing that must be attended to; There is a clear protocol of behaviour.” The Interrogator spat on the floor, and his spit brown and lumpy. The Inspector had to look away, “It is hard to make you… understand. There is… a contract between … professionals. Or at least those who wish to be known as professionals. I believe there is a procedure before entry that should have notified you of this respect protocol?”

“How can you possibly go on about respect? �" did you know I had to climb through a tunnel--”

Here the Interrogator couldn’t contain himself; his face, upon recognition of what the Inspector had said, bloomed like a red balloon before bursting into a hail of laughter; wretched, mocking laughter. Indecent, horrifying. He couldn’t withhold the sheer delight, and just when he’d caught his breath, he began to laugh again, his lips spluttering with putrid spittle, and his eyes holding tears of rapture. “Now do you understand inspector? Now do you … see?”

The Inspector turned red with embarrassment, he was angry: “I see you hold the word respect very lightly and that you’re a despicable hypocrite. But two can play at that game: If I were to say that you should not scurry like a beast? That you look completely ridiculous galloping about like a fool.”

The Interrogator’s face became very grave; He didn’t like being mocked: “…Respect,” he said, yet even he didn’t believe it; He seemed to relish in the word as if it were a cover for some perverse fascination of his. His eyes shone with a dark, sinister delight, as if he held within his hands the thread of fate, as if it gave him untold power. “One must Respect … the other. And yet… And yet… I know how hard it is to respect … mutts. But believe me, it is something you must do �" here. It is a rule of conduct, unseen, yet, unhidden, clear in view. I am willing to look past your denouncement of my scurrying because I know you struggle to understand these basic protocols.”

“How are such a hypocrite?” said the Inspector.

Again, the Interrogator was very serious: “Inspector you wear this grey suit, and affect this air of decency and dignity yet you climbed through that tunnel, coated with mud, on your knees like a dog? And yet… and yet, I must respect you! Those are the rules! Do you understand? That is the contract. And I can laugh at you �" though how could you know that I was laughing at you and not something else? …This would all be very clear cut if you were not implicated in it. You see, you are not worthy of respect because you climbed through that tunnel like the very dogs you despise. And perhaps I too, am unworthy of respect, and yet we must get along respecting each other, like the fine gentlemen we both are, or, at the very least, pretend to be. Truth is, Inspector, if you got down and all fours, and scurried about, no one would bat an eye. They would hold their silence because they are forced to respect you. They don’t care who you are so long as you don’t bother them. Surely you are not so stupid as to misunderstand this? And now that this façade of civility has collapsed, I may ask why you bother with your Inspection at all? Who are you to pass judgement? With your pathetic little notepad, and your rules? What are your rules if I break them? Perhaps the Company is the perfect rendition of the rules of the future… tell me Inspector, if I asked you to inspect yourself, what would you return with? Would you say that you would pass your own inspection? And what if we are all lying to you? Perhaps I am the only one you can trust in this place because I am the only one you know you cannot trust. Everyone else will claim your trust and then stab you in the back; before I stab you in the back I will tell you I am going to do it."

“Why do you crawl on all fours like a beast?” Inquired the Inspector, who didn’t see a reason for carrying on with a farcical front of respect.

“You ask why I scurry out?” asked the Interrogator, relishing in the opportunity to explain his perverse reasoning.  

“Maybe general interest motivates the question, or I wish to know how it came about. Perhaps what motivates my question doesn’t matter. Perhaps it does not matter how you answer it either, maybe it simply is.”

“You are trying to confuse me?” the Interrogator said, not happy with being mocked. “Inspector, maybe there is no reason. Wouldn’t that drive you mad? Perhaps I think it is completely normal behaviour. Entirely natural, that is. Maybe I believe it is so self-evident that it is beyond the grasp of words to explain?”

“So you cannot provide a reason for your scurrying? Everything has a reason for its existence, a cause. I can tell you why I walk on both legs despite it being self-evident. Firstly it is more efficient secondly because nature clearly dictates that I walk on two legs from my fundamental anatomy.”

The Interrogator smiled viciously: “To me? I scurry because it makes me feel free. Though I cannot say what that means exactly because I have never felt free. Everything is cold and damp, and miserable, perhaps that is why I scurry out? Because I feel like a rat in this place, this prison …The Future offers me freedom. There I will not have to scurry like a rat to conjure the feeling of freedom. But for the time being, I cannot obtain that freedom, so I must scurry. Would you have me live without freedom? Am I not entitled to the expression of how I feel? And this nature you allude to, I am afraid she has abandoned me: I know no master beyond these four walls.” The Interrogator paused, and continued with a reconciliatory tone: “Let me ask you Inspector, why you ask such hurtful questions; what are you trying to find? What does it matter if I scurry out? I am not hurting anyone. Have you done this before-- Have you asked a man why his nose is longer than average, why a woman has shaved her head?”

“This is altogether different. I have never met a man who crawled about on all fours. Nor have I had to pretend that a dog was a man.”

“And so you lump me in with the dog? Do you know what is so great about this Company? It is that we must respect each other. Otherwise it would be very easy for me to launch myself across this table and grab you. But you can go on asking your stupid questions, and I can continue my scurrying, and neither of us can do very much about the other. Because we must respect one another… I would ask you not to relate me to that mutt ever again.”

“Very well,” said the Inspector reasonably, “I apologise. Forgive me for relating you to the dog. Just understand that I feel both things are unique to this Company, and that’s why I lumped them together. Let’s change the subject matter. I was told that the Company manufactures the Future. What does that mean?”

“Man is a scoundrel. How do we feed a scoundrel? There is so much wisdom in words, don’t you think? The Future is hard to understand, but you want a simple answer�"”

In an instant, a barrage of noise came into the room; once more, a door, hitherto imperceptible and seamless, flew violently ajar, slamming into the wall as it hinged. Both the Inspector and the Interrogator jumped from fright as a large man waddled his way out but caught his foot on the threshold, losing his balance and falling forward, striking his head against the edge of the table. A scream rang out, accompanied by the sound of falling plaster and nuggets of debris from where the door had forcefully struck the wall. Inspector was still reeling from the shock when the rather large man, who appeared unconscious, face down on the floor, suddenly go to his feet, pulled a chair from the small space in the wall �" where he had evidently been sitting all this time listening in, and seated himself adjacent to the Interrogator.

The Interrogator was positively livid, “You damned fool! What kind of entrance was that? How the hell are you supposed to inspire fear after that?”

The man apologised profusely, “There’s an elevation to the threshold which I didn’t account for!” There was a large cut on his forehead, and he walked with a limp, having fell oddly on his knee -- and this was the reason he had waited on the floor, so he attested, because he was unsure whether he had broken anything.

Just as the Interrogator leaned over to check whether the man’s leg was alright, he got up, intent on closing the door. But there was something wrong with it -- it wouldn’t close fully. The man spent what seemed like an eternity tinkering with the door, trying to motion it correctly. At last the Interrogator burst with rage: “Just leave it as it is!” he cried. 

The Inspector watched this grotesque occurrence play out with discretion. At last some sense settled on the scene and everyone was seated.

For some reason, the Interrogator rounded on the Inspector: “I am only so angry because of your inconsideration Inspector! You should have never mentioned my scurrying! Now my emotions are all twisted up.” he then added, “Let us pretend that this did not happen.” The Associate sat by mutely, he seemed a childish sort of being, a simpleton. He did nothing else.

“I’m done pretending” said the Inspector, “What’s the meaning of this farce, who is he?”

“He is my Representative; he is here to aid me in my interrogation: To provoke a sense of immediacy.”

“This wont help you.”

At once the Interrogator sprang into life, wretched, perfidious life: “What a spiteful thing you are! You climb through a tunnel and then barge into the Company, disturbing its gentle functioning with a long list of nonsensical procedures and pointless rules, tramping about saying you are going to shut the place down because you cannot understand it? You peer intrusively into every single face you find, dissecting them, judging them, placing them all in a little hierarchy of usefulness and when they retort ignobly you cry injustice and play victim! Give me a break Inspector, you are no better than anyone else, spluttering and grumbling over the vague answers given to your equally vague questions. How can you be so stupid to not understand what the Future is? You think you are better than me, but I can tell you that you would not have the strength to endure the torment that I have; You would not even scurry! You would slitter along like a snake because the blows would lay you so low that it would be only way you could communicate the deprivation that your experience has imposed on your state of mind! Alas, nothing will avail of your ignorance. You are an obsessive purist trying to stamp out all deviancy, yet all the while you are confounded by what a lazy eye wouldn’t find difficult to catch!”

The Interrogator latched onto another idea: “And your questions! Yes now I understand, your questions are so vague because they must exist separate from everything so as to be held aloft, not in common with the rest of us. O, the high and mighty Inspector with his little grey suit and his notepad and all your rules!” The Interrogator spat once more. “I would not deny that there is some perversion in what I am but one cannot help but be fascinated at the disturbing machinations of one’s own mind, how these sinister thoughts come scurrying out! What am I to do but listen to them?” The Interrogator gave a sky, perverse smile, showing off his broken, brown teeth: “What would happen, Inspector, if you found that your inspection could not be resolved? That is what I am dying to know! What if there was no solution to the problem you faced? Where would you go? Would you remain in the Company, crawling around on all fours, searching for an answer? You are only so confident because you are so stupid; all that I can see is arrogance because I know your situation is far more precarious than you are aware of!”

The Inspector replied in a respectful, orderly manner: “If the Company cannot provide an explanation for its existence, then it will fail the inspection.”

The Interrogator laughed, “Does not the fault lie with you? You are the one saying you cannot understand anything!”

“Failure is a resolution,” said the Inspector, “Perhaps the most definite one that I could give. In no way can I at present justify this place. Especially after all that I’ve seen.”

“No, Inspector! What I am saying is this: “Why continue with your inspection if you cannot justify it? What makes you think you come to understand this Company?”

“I suppose it all hinges on the future,” said the Inspector, “On what that’s supposed to be,”

The Interrogator began to chuckle ominously.

Presently, the Interrogation came to an abrupt end. Just below the table there came a knocking. It seemed there was a door beneath them and someone was trying to get through. No doubt another associate of the Interrogator intent on disorientating the Inspector, or some other vague, deranged purpose.

Upon recognising this absurdity, the Inspector got to his feet; he had wasted quite enough time with this nonsense.

But the Interrogator didn’t want him to leave�"there was more he wanted to say. He seized the Inspector’s hand as he was walking past, imploringly, trying to pull him closer: “Stay Inspector!” he begged, “Just stay a little longer! Please! There is so much left unsaid �" I promise leniency! Leniency!” But the Inspector pulled away, “I’m done here.”

Laughably, the Interrogator began to threaten him, promising “Future consequences” should he not remain: “My associate -- another associate, he will fix us! … You will stand trial Inspector! You will stand trial!” But the Inspector was already outside.

 

Author's Note

Did you like it

Reviews

[Thaprodigalsun]

So, I think it was very well written! Spelling and grammar was mostly excellent and your ability to describe was second to none. The descriptions of uncleanliness and the sound in the walls were clear standouts. I also think you nailed giving each of the small cast a distinct voice or cadence. The story very much had a Kafka feeling to it, which works for it and against it, in my opinion. It makes the work stand out as almost experimental, which is neat, but could also be off-putting as the reader is just kind of thrown into the world and it's lore with little introduction to it all. But if that's the style you're going for, definitely nailing it. Either way, a very competent read and though I feel it had an ending, I'd be interested to see where what life was like for the Inspector outside of his role.

[BeethovenFeller]

Thanks for the insight, I'm glad you liked the extract!