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“You- two- are- useless!”
Cavendish flinches at every clap. His boss is leaning over the desk, scowling at him. “All you had to do, all you had to do, was transport one damn frog mutant. How did you mess that up?!”
Cavendish looks down at the floor. “It was, erm, rather slippery. Sir.”
“Very slippery.” Dakota agrees. “We did try to catch it, but it kicked Cavendish in the face and slipped through our arms.”
“I don’t care!” Their boss slams his hands down onto the desk. They both jump. “I told you that was your last chance.”
He takes a deep breath. “But, I’m giving you one more. Here is your new assignment.” He slides a folder over the desk to them. Cavendish picks it up and scans it.
“The Jinx?” He reads the title, frowning.
“Oh boy.” Dakota’s face goes noticeably paler. “Isn’t that the one people are always dying on?”
Cavendish gapes at his partner, then at their boss. “How dangerous is this monster?”
“Extremely dangerous, it causes rampant destruction wherever it goes. In terms of how likely it is to kill you- practically none. It hasn’t shown any signs of wanting to, nor would it likely have the ability. I would he surprised if even you could get killed by it.” Their boss explains.
Cavendish ignores the insult. “But then how do so many employees die while assigned to it, sir?”
“Because if this one escapes, we dispose of whoever was supposed to be keeping it in.” Their boss explains casually, ignoring the horror growing on the faces of his least favourite employees. “It is easily recaptured when it gets out, but due to it’s appearance it has a high likelihood of tricking or manipulating it’s guards into letting it escape. The high penalty encourages people not to fall for that.”
He laughs. “So, I wouldn’t mess up this time, alright?”
“What does it look like?” Dakota asks, imagining a monstrous puppy or something. Or perhaps one of those monsters that looks like an attractive person to seduce you. They dealt with one of those once. That didn’t end well.
“It looks like… ah.” Cavendish opens the folder and goes very quiet. “Yes, I can see why people are so easily manipulated by him. It.”
“Why?” Dakota asks, leaning over. His eyes widen. “Uh, that’s a child.”
The picture is of a young looking boy, probably not even in high school. He looks very normal, especially compared to the weird monsters and mutants the duo have dealt with while employed in this organisation. Dakota can’t see anything abnormal about him. He is young and small and covered in various bruises and scars.
“Yup, a child.” Their boss says casually. “We’re not exactly sure how it works, but it seems to affect probability. This monster’s presence drastically affects the chances of things going wrong. That’s why the containment procedures are so stringent. If he gets out, he could ruin everything.”
“Is he- it- a real child? Or does it simply take on the appearance of one as a disguise?” Cavendish asks, staying professional despite feeling really rather uncomfortable.
“Oh, it does seem to be a real child. The only major difference in behaviour is a lack of the typical fear a child of that age might have to the dangerous events it causes: although that doesn’t mean it can’t be frightened.” Their boss chuckles coldly. “My advice would be to maintain a safe distance, avoid the splash zone, but act like you are dealing with a normal child. However you see fit, whether kind or unkind. We don’t have child protection laws here, so you aren’t getting in trouble whatever you do.” He laughs again.
Dakota really doesn’t like their boss’s laugh, it is cruel and cold like a sharp icicle. And immediately even that frozen imitation of humour is gone, replaced by a dark scowl. “What you will get in trouble for is letting it escape. So don’t let your guard down, and don’t let yourself be manipulated. Remember that whether it looks like a scared child or not, it doesn’t care about you, or the world, and letting it out will spell disaster.”
Cavendish and Dakota just stand and stare at him, shocked by everything they were just told. Their boss bangs on the table again, irritated. “Dismissed!”
———
Dakota unfolds their site map. “Ok, sector 005.” He says, beginning to lead the way.
“This is ridiculous! He gave us this assignment purely to get rid of us! I would rather by fired than die because I failed to keep a… keep a…” Cavendish trails off. “I know that the Jinx is dangerous but I still find the idea of keeping a young child locked up rather uncomfortable.”
“Yeah, I feel really bad.” Dakota agrees, brows furrowed. “But I’m sure that they don’t treat him badly.”
———
They arrive at the heavy metal doors marked Sector 005. The sector is huge, but somehow only has this one monster inside of it. The Jinx.
They understand that once they see the containment procedures. Helmets, fireproof jumpsuits, steel toed boots, and other safety equipment, for a start. Then layers and layers of airlocks, so you can’t get through until the door behind you is closed. Plenty of guards so even if the door systems broke, no one would get through anyway.
The colours of the walls change as they get closer to the main containment chamber. They started out blue, then green, then yellow, then orange, then red. And now they have reached a black corridor, and there is a huge yellow sign on the doors ahead.
“Level 6 Containment.” Dakota reads.
“Good heavens, I thought there were only five levels.” Cavendish says. “And look at all of those warnings! It has warning symbols for every possible hazard.”
Dakota takes a deep breath as he pulls his visor down over his eyes. “We’re ready.” He calls out, and slowly the door begins to open.
———
The room is large and mostly empty. The walls and floors are white, and the walls are tall. But there are holes and cracks in the floor and walls, repaired but still obvious. Other than that, the only thing in the room is a cage.
It is looks cramped, only a bit longer than a meter. And Dakota would have to duck if he was inside it. There is a blanket strewn on the floor, and a jug of water. And sitting in the cage is a small boy.
He is resting his head against the metal bars, but he looks over when Cavendish and Dakota enter. They can see the fear flash through his eyes as they enter. He doesn’t move, staying sat where he is.
“Hey, kid.” Dakota raises a hand in greeting. The kid waves back. He looks thin.
“Hi.” He says. “I’m Milo.”
There was something in the folder about that. Dakota casts his mind back. The kid would introduce himself as Milo, which was his name before he was retrieved, and they aren’t supposed to call him that. They are instructed to refer to him as Jinx if they have to use a name, although it’s noted that ‘other forms of address are permitted as long as they are not it’s old name, or anything similar to this’.
“Hey kid.” Dakota goes with after an awkwardly long pause. None of the monsters he has been assigned to were anything like this. Even the sentient ones (he is once again reminded of that seductive demon type monster) were clearly inhuman. This boy looks like a normal child. Dakota feels weird as he is studied by big, sad brown eyes. He can see why so many employees have tried to break this kid out.
Cavendish looks even more uncomfortable if possible, his urge to be distant and professional at war with his urge to be polite. He ends up not saying anything, simply nodding with his hands behind his back.
“What happened to the last ones?” The boy asks.
“They were transferred. Promoted, I believe.” Cavendish says. Dakota knows that Cavendish is frustrated by that. He and Cavendish have been demoted and demoted again, until they were finally given the death trap job.
“Oh. That’s good.” The boy says. “What are your names?”
“I’m Dakota, that’s Cavendish.” Dakota says. “Chill, Cavendish, we’re allowed to tell him that.”
He approaches slowly, remembering the suggestion to keep an adequate buffer zone between himself and the Jinx. Cavendish follows, turning to the checklist in the folder. He hands it to Dakota. “Ok kid, just a couple questions, then we’ll leave you be.” He says. Most of it is the usual well-being questions they need to answer on monsters. In fact it’s actually easier, because he knows what a human should look like to be healthy, while with other monsters it can be literally anything.
So the kid looks healthy, probably a little thin but not malnourished, he has injuries but nothing severe. He reads down the list, ticking the boxes. While he does, he finds his chest feels funny again. Everything meets the standards the checklist requires, but it still doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel right to keep a child in a cage, without a bed, and without any kind of enrichment.
He can’t stop thinking about that cage. It just feels unbelievably cruel. Even if the kid needs to be kept inside for the safety of others, why a cage? He’s clearly a child, he doesn’t deserve that, this is wrong. Once glance back at Cavendish shows him a tense stance, shaky hands. He knows his partner feels the same
The last question asks about the emotional state of the jinx. Does he looks agitated or angry, has he made an attempt to attack them?
How could he do that through the bars of the cage? He couldn’t even fit a hand through. Dakota ticks no, then closes the folder. “Right, we’ll leave you alone now.”
“No!” The child jumps so suddenly that both of them jump too. “Sorry, I mean… can’t you stay for a bit? I won’t talk if you don’t want me to, I just miss having people around and you’re much nicer than the last two. They called me a monster a lot.”
Dakota’s heart aches, looking at the hope in the boy’s eyes, mixing with pure sadness. He suddenly knows that if he stays here a second longer he is going to be joining the long list of people who were killed over this kid. “Sorry kid, no can do. We’ll be back.” He says, then gets up and leaves without looking back. It doesn’t matter if he looks or not, because he can imagine the look on the boy’s face and it hurts him even more.
———
The doors slide shut, loudly and firmly. And Milo is alone again.
He rests his head back against the bars of the cage, while hugging his knees tightly. His throat is tight, his arms are trembling.
He is glad that the last two are gone, they were horrible. While they were there, every time the door opened he would curl up tighter and just try to ignore them. It didn’t work. Their insults and cruelty was relentless. He wished that his cage had proper walls so he couldn’t see him, rather than bars so he could never get away from them. So he just had to sit there while their eyes and words bore into him.
The pair before that were kind and clearly guilty. Like Cavendish and Dakota. While the cruel ones stayed longer than they needed to so they could be mean to him, the kind ones stayed so they could talk to him. They started calling him Milo. And then one day they unlocked his cage and started hurrying him out, and for the first time in ages he felt hopeful.
And then he was thrown back in his cage and the next day the cruel people were there. And they made it blatantly clear that it was his fault, that the kind ones died because of him. They told him it over and over while he crouched on the floor of the cage and shook and cried. They taunted him for the tears and laughed while he sobbed. They poked their fingers in through the cage to prod him.
And that’s not even thinking about the people before that, pairs who were cruel or kind or indifferent, who left either because they were promoted, or because they tried to help him.
He wishes Cavendish and Dakota stayed. Even if they were indifferent, even if they stayed silent, he is so lonely. He is so sick of being treated like a monster, just a job to be checked on before being left in a cage by himself. He wants to go home. He just wants to go home.
He uses the blanket soak up tears as he huddles on the floor of the cage.
———
They don’t talk about it while they make their way back through the airlock system. They don’t talk about it while they put away their safety equipment. They don’t talk about it while they hand in the folder or eat in the canteen or get on with their paperwork.
They don’t talk about it until they are in the car. “That’s a child. Just a child, and they’ve put him in a cage like a dangerous monster. I’ve seen actual monsters kept in better enclosures than that.” Dakota spits.
“And he wanted us to stay with him, even though we’re keeping him contained, just because we aren’t actively being cruel towards him.” Cavendish grips the wheel so tight his knuckles go white. “We have to do something, Dakota, this isn’t right. We can’t allow this to continue to happen.”
Dakota furrows his brows, sitting back in his chair. “We need to get him out of there. Whatever it takes.”
———
“Hello!” Milo says when Cavendish and Dakota come in the next day. They can see him simultaneously perk up and shrink back.
“Hi Milo.” Dakota says. And that has an impact. Milo’s eyes widen, and then another emotion floods in. It looks like he might start crying right there and then, but he doesn’t. Today while Dakota fills in the checklist, he talks to the child. He manages to make him laugh. The kid makes him laugh too- he has some great stories about things that have actually happened to him, and he is clearly desperate to talk to someone. It hurts Dakota to see how happy the basic kindness seems to make him.
And while he does that, Cavendish is taking notes on the room and the security.
———
The day after that, Milo is having a bad day (even worse than normal). He is quiet and shaking and he just wants to hide. When Cavendish and Dakota come in, he pulls his blanket tighter around himself. He doesn’t want to be seen, he doesn’t want to be stared at through the bars.
Dakota asks him what’s wrong. He can’t explain. Words don’t work. He just pulls the blanket over his head, but he knows the eyes are still there and it hurts.
Dakota sits down with back to the cage and turns away from the upset boy. He talks quietly and gently, and after a while Milo takes the blanket away and peeks out.
“Hey Milo.” Dakota turns a bit to smile at him, and Milo smiles back.
———
The fourth day of Jinx Duty (as their colleagues call it derisively) Cavendish has pretty detailed notes on the room and is working on how to get through the airlock system.
The fifth day, Dakota notices the way Milo is hugging himself and desperately wishes that he could just hug the kid, wondering when was the last time someone hugged him. But he can’t, so he settles for sticking a finger through the bars.
He doesn’t miss how Milo flinches when he does that, and anger flashes through him, directed at whoever was assigned to Milo last. He and Cavendish have vowed to find out who it was.
Then Milo reaches out to curl his finger around Dakota’s, and Dakota smiles. He sits and talks to him until the kid rests his head against the bars, and closes his eyes, and then drifts off. Protectiveness rushes through him. He would die for this kid. One glance at Cavendish shows him that his partner feels the same.
———
After the sixth day, Cavendish has a plan.
And on the seventh day, they put it into action.
They start off like normal. Dakota fills in the checklist while talking casually to Milo. When Dakota ticks the last box, that’s the signal. Cavendish removes a device from his jacket and throws it at the ground. A shockwave echoes around the room. The lights flicker off and the doors slowly open.
“What’s going on?” Milo asks.
Dakota removes the key from his pocket and unlocks the cage. He reaches out a hand for Milo to take. “We’re getting you out of here.” He tells the boy. “Come on, we need to hurry.”
Milo cautiously takes his hand and let’s himself be pulled to his feet. Dakota’s hands are warm and soft, and he wishes he could keep holding on forever. He has missed touches like that. “The last time someone tried to help me escape, they got killed.” He says, shuddering at the memory. He would rather be left in the cage with Cavendish and Dakota coming to see him every day, comforting him and talking to him, than have a new pair come in tomorrow to tell him that they died because of him.
“We’re not gonna get killed.” Dakota says gently. “We have a plan.”
“We are going to rescue you, Milo.” Cavendish comes around to his other side, eyes serious but comforting. “It’s going to be alright, I promise.”
Milo stands between them for a moment, trembling, before launching at Dakota. Dakota puts his arms around the kid and squeezes, firm but gentle. Cavendish joins them at the other side. Milo squeezes tightly and closes his eyes and soaks it up, tears pricking at his eyes.
“Ok, let’s get out of here.” Dakota says. And they turn to run for the doors, with Milo’s trembling hands held firmly. They need to get him out. No matter how impossible this looks.