Connecticut, Hartford: Troy's House
Clyde had left too quickly for me to catch up, and I think that was his plan in the first place. The first sign of hostile reactions means that Clyde wants to keep his special friend away from me as far as necessary. I get it, he wants to protect me, and that means seeing me as little as he could. I had made it home around 23:00 hours or so, finding that the neighbor's dog has made a mess of my newspaper again. I don't care too much, I have other things on my mind. The front door's lock clicks open as I place and turn my key into the tumblers and step into the dark living room, not really sure what to do next.
I shut the door and turn on the lights. I'm not feeling sleepy yet, but there isn't much to do to occupy my time. The television flicks on, but mostly just for some background noise; I don't really watch T.V. I throw myself lazily on the couch, staring blankly at the screen. The program is showing this cartoon that I've seen sometimes, but never really paid attention to. It's just a blue hedgehog running around the place, calling people too slow and scarfing down chilly dogs. I don't get it, and I don't care to learn either. I've forgotten that I still have my phone on me, so I get spooked when it rings in my pocket. I pull it out and see that Clyde is calling and answer quickly.
"Clyde?" I start.
"Where are you right now?"
"Um, home. Why?"
"Because I couldn't tell if you followed me home or not. The other Troy is here telling me that he was real. I had to call to be sure."
Manipulation, Fake Troy? That's bad news. "Don't listen to him, Clyde! Anyone that doesn't like me obviously has malicious intentions!"
"That sounds conceited." He pauses for a moment, "Are you watching Sonic?"
"What the hell is a Sonic?"
"You know, Sonic. That blue hedgehog that runs really fast. His sidekick is a little fox with two tails."
"Oh," I say while turning off the television, "you could hear it over the phone?"
"No. It's a little weird, but I just had a feeling that you were watching Sonic. In my opinion, I think all foxes should be sidekicks in general."
"Ha, what golden comedy you own," I say sarcastically. This is weird, having a random thought about somebody shouldn't be this accurate. "Hey Clyde, can I ask you something?"
"Shoot."
"When I came home, what was the first thing I saw?" He stays silent for a moment, and I think that he's going to come back with a How the hell should I know? comment. Instead...
"You...found...your newspaper torn apart by the neighbor's dog." He sounds as shocked to say it as much as I am to hear it. What the hell's going on here?
*** *** ***
Ispio Head Quarters: The Next Morning
"Get it out!" I shout in Dr. Nivan's face while clutching his lab jacket, "Get it out! Get it out! Get it out!"
"Let go of me you filthy fur-ball!" he says as he smacks my hands away. "I can't do anything about it right now!"
Clyde is standing quietly behind me, letting me fight for him. He hasn't said a word all morning, and I'm beginning to worry about him deeply. Carlotta barges through the clinic's doors looking fiery and furious.
She sets her burning eyes on me. "Troy, are you not familiar with handling confidential information!? You have done the exact opposite of what you were directed to."
"Adams!" I meekly squeak, losing my voice from sheer terror. "I needed-"
"No," she interrupts, "there is no excuse this time! I had made it perfectly clear how this problem was supposed to be treated, but you just compromised everything! The plans, the treatments, the results, the-"
Clyde places a hand on her shoulder. "Adams, the very fact that Troy decided to tell me shows that he cares more about my safety than Ispio does."
She seems blindsided to hear Clyde make a statement like that. He barely talks at all to her from the start, but calling her out as a cold person is just uncharacteristic of him. "Clyde," she says, turning around to face him, "There was a plan. You weren't in any real danger, I promise you that-"
"I'm not mad, Adams. I can understand your perspective. I just wish you could've put a little more faith into me, rather than thinking I couldn't handle this."
For the first time since high school, Carlotta actually looks guilty. She slumps her head down and glues her eyes to the floor in silence, "I'm... I uh..." She looks back at Clyde, fixing her posture to her usual business authoritarian. "I apologize for not trusting you. You've been an excellent agent, and I should've been treating you like one." Not only does Clyde manage to get Carlotta to show her humanity, but he also manages to get a sorry out of her too! I thought I had the silver tongue around here.
"Listen," says Clyde, "I'm reporting to you first-hand that this thing is dangerous. It has the power to mess with reality. It pushed Troy, the real Troy." He looks at me with sorrowful eyes, apologizing to me with facial expressions rather than words. He acts so cold to me sometimes, so a gesticular like that is heart-warming to see; especially considering that's not his thing.
"Yeah," I say, "so we need that ghost to go bye-bye real soon!"
Adams turns to Dr. Nivans. "How far along are you on a cure?"
Nivans scoffs, "We've only been working on it for five days, a cure won't come out overnight."
"C'mon Doc, you've got all this science stuff and technological do-dads to play with! How long could it actually take?" I ask.
"You arrogant anthro, you've got no idea how medicine works!"
Adams shoos me away from him. "That's enough, Troy! The last thing you want to do is make the only man who's got a chance to cure Clyde angry at you." She pushes me out of the door, and Clyde walks through on his own, taking his place by my side. "You two give Nivans some space, and only bother him if he asks to see you."
I grunt in annoyance, "Fine, but what if we get hurt or something?"
"Find a public hospital," The door slams on our faces, and we're left without orders or any hope to cling on to.
"You really shouldn't be so condescending towards Nivans," Clyde says, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"Ah, what do you know. You're mentally sick." Okay, I know, that was mean. You don't have to point that out. Maybe I'm just in a bad mood is all. "So, what's next?"
He looks down at me. "Archer is next."