Brian Saves the World, Maybe

Chapter 7 - Twists

Brian sat on a hay bale, sipping from a bottle of water Dale had given him, wondering if these sudden headaches were going to be a regular thing now.

TV, do you know what happened?

A change in your brain.

There was a pause. Brian had expected TV to say more.

Um, okay. Care to elaborate on that?

"Who do you work for!" Dale shouted. The Observer cop now sat with his back to a hay bale, a bandage on his head. Dale was walking around as he asked questions, apparently trying to look menacing. The officer's gun was tucked in his belt.

"You can see the uniform," The Observer said. "You boys need to let me go. The longer you keep me here, the worse it will be for you."

Dale looked at the name tag on the Observer's chest. "Watkins. Why did you pull us over, Officer Watkins?"

"I received a report about a suspicious person at the park."

"Suspicious, how?"

"A lady reported that a man had threatened her with a shoe."

Dale turned his back to the Observer, and shot a quick, nervous glance at his feet. "That's absurd," he said with a forced laugh, "and, anyway, what's that got to do with us?"

The Observer glared. "The lady gave us your license plate number. I saw your plate matched up."

Brian grimaced. Dale's fancy license plate trick hadn't worked after all.

Dale's eyes widened briefly, his back still turned to the Observer. "Uh-huh. Tell me. How did you find us here? You seemed to know exactly where to look."

The Observer glanced from Dale over to Brian, but said nothing.

Dale narrowed his eyes, and turned back to the officer. "What if I told you we know you aren't just a cop? That you're a spy?"

The Observer cursed. "What are you talking about?"

"We know who you are. What you are."

Brian was growing tired of this exchange. His head was pounding, and he didn't think beating around the bush was going to do any good. "We know you're an Observer," Brian blurted. "We know about the Borae, and their plans."

Dale looked sharply at Brian.

The Observer's eyes widened for a moment, but he remained silent.

Dale said he was going to check around outside and stepped out, clearly agitated that Brian had interfered with his interrogation.

The Observer looked at Brian. "What's your name?"

Brian ignored him, while the cop just sat there, staring.

TV, what do you make of this guy? ... TV?

After a few seconds, TV finally said, Ask him about the cafeteria.

What? TV didn't answer.

Is that all you have to say, TV? That makes zero sense! Aw, screw it. "Tell me about the cafeteria."

The Observer looked like he was taken off guard. "You know about the cafeteria?"

Brian didn't respond. It appeared as if the Observer were trying to read him.

The Observer finally said, "The food is bad as usual, and we are running low. We hope to get a delivery soon." He looked at Brian expectantly.

What the heck was that about, TV?

"Are you... listening to someone?" the Observer suddenly asked.

This time, Brian was the one taken off guard. "Excuse me?"

"Are you receiving messages, messages in your head?" The Observer stammered.

Brian's jaw dropped. TV, does he know about you? What do I say?

Another stabbing pain in Brian's head sent him reeling. The pain was more intense this time. He rolled on the barn floor, groaning. Brian thought TV might have been trying to tell him something, but all he could focus on at that moment was the pain. And then everything drifted away.

***

Brian opened his eyes. Dale was sitting next to him.

"You okay, Brian?" he said, offering him another bottle of water. Dale seemed to think a bottle of water could cure all ills.

"I think so," he said slowly.

Dale helped him sit up. "We're going to need to get you checked out."

Brian winced at the thought of going to an ER.

***
INCOMING MESSAGE:

Startup sequence initialized. Please report to nearest facility immediately for maintenance procedures.

END MESSAGE
***

Brian could somehow both hear and see this message in his mind. TV, what was that? Was that you?

***
INCOMING MESSAGE:

Startup sequence initialized. Please report to nearest facility immediately for maintenance procedures.

END MESSAGE
***

These messages began coming soon after you met the Observer at the fountain. I cannot suppress them any longer. I am sorry, Brian.

What? TV, you're not making any sense.

Brian. You are an Observer.