a conversation

[helloneighbor]

[On the night of February 28th, just before midnight, your television set turns on with a pop! Blaring static, the snowy image gradually begins to gain clarity and definition, and the harsh white noise begins to slowly — but not completely — wind down to a dull, hissing drone. Like a radio trying to tune into the right station, two familiar voices in the middle of conversation rise above the noise.]

	—only have one job. How hard can it really be to make sure those idiots stay out of trouble? I'm serious, Dale. Help me understand. Because from where I'm standing, you'd think I ordered you to boil the ocean.
	It hasn't been hard.
	Then how did they find the shelter? Who told them, Dale?
	I think you already know.
	[A sharp crack, not unlike the snap of a branch, rings out. The gasp that accompanies it is swallowed up by the white noise.]
	You've always been so good at taking responsibility. Disappointing. [He sighs.] Well, the good news is the lab was cleared out. Nothing down there anymore. Shame that the test subjects got loose, but... They won't be running laps anytime soon.
	[Thickly:] You should have just killed them.
	Maybe. [There's a faint impression of a shrug through the static.] Probably. Don't worry, I'll be having a conversation about that too. In the meantime, we have bigger fish to fry. What are you going to do about the rest of them?
	Security's been raised around Town Hall, the station — anywhere that could be a place of interest. They're going to go looking for answers, there's no way around that. But they won't get far if we're there to meet them.
	Why give them the chance? Test data showed they responded well to Tranquilization. All they need is one good push over the edge and— [He snaps his fingers.] That's it.
	That's not how I do things.
	Obviously. Well, if you won't, I'll just get someone who can.
	[A derisive scoff.] What, like— [He goes silent. His realization audibly dawns on him.] You don't mean—
	Mm-hmm.
	No. You can't be serious. If you let that freak out, their good will, any chance we have of containing this — that's it. It's over.
	I don't want their good will, Harding. I want them out of my fucking town. If I can't have that, I'll take their brains leaking out of their ears, no problem. Misbehaving children need to be punished. Now, there are a few other... pressing matters that need my attention. We'll talk more about this later. [The outline of Clarke's hand gives a flippant little wave.] You can go.
	[There's a long, uncomfortable moment of silence, broken only by the sound of footsteps. They stop, and Harding speaks up again, his voice very quiet.]
	You never said ş̶̨̧̢̧̥̞͇̪̘͕̪̻̺̼̭͈̹͓̤̖̱͖̹͔̝̳̘͎̥̺̪̠͕̝̝͈͈̼̹̀̀́̈́̕͠ͅṫ̵̢̪̯̟̙͔̜́̿̾̄̈́̽͑͒̍̏̑̂͌͗̉͑̓̊̄̐̊̿̆̈͐̅̇̑͆̃̆͘̚̚͠͠͠a̶̡̨̛̘̬͉̞͉̠̝̺͓͍̤͚̭̝̦͙̘̭̜̹͓̹̺̜̹̳̲̺̦̤̺̤̘̹̎̈̓̽̂̾̽̌̾̔̈̍̈̾̈́͊̊̈́̑͛͌̓̂̂̓̎̔͘̚͜ṫ̸̨̢̨̧̛̗͚͕̻͚͇͖͍͔̺̙͙͇̤̦̙͕̥̺̻͚͈̹̼͈̼͇̳̳̪͕̥̪͗̉̔͒̾̀́̂̑̾͌͛̃̎̐́̆̀̕͜͜ͅi̸̛̛̺̗̦̭̹̫̩̥̲̤̘̲̬̹͊̒͊̎̋̐͌̍̂́̂́͐̅̇͆̃̊͂́̈͆͋̾̈́̍͑̎̈́̓̀͆̈̃́̅̿̊̉̌̈́̑͊̀̓̆̏̃͂̾̚̚͘͠͝͠͝͝͠͝c̶̨̨̧̢͕͙͉͙̗̟̺̝͍͔͎̟̲̺͈̫̥͍̬͔͕̠̩͕͍̰̱̟͇̠͖̮̺̩̯͈̟̲̱͉̖͎͎̝̙̥͍̻̞̘͎̖̲͑͒͊͋̿̒̔̄̈́̈́̉̐̿̀̌̐͛̉̓͌̃̀̾̕͘͘̕͘̚  was there.
	What?
	[As if reacting to the heated tone Harding's voice takes on, the static begins to rise in volume again.]
	ş̶̨̧̢̧̥̞͇̪̘͕̪̻̺̼̭͈̹͓̤̖̱͖̹͔̝̳̘͎̥̺̪̠͕̝̝͈͈̼̹̀̀́̈́̕͠ͅṫ̵̢̪̯̟̙͔̜́̿̾̄̈́̽͑͒̍̏̑̂͌͗̉͑̓̊̄̐̊̿̆̈͐̅̇̑͆̃̆͘̚̚͠͠͠a̶̡̨̛̘̬͉̞͉̠̝̺͓͍̤͚̭̝̦͙̘̭̜̹͓̹̺̜̹̳̲̺̦̤̺̤̘̹̎̈̓̽̂̾̽̌̾̔̈̍̈̾̈́͊̊̈́̑͛͌̓̂̂̓̎̔͘̚͜ṫ̸̨̢̨̧̛̗͚͕̻͚͇͖͍͔̺̙͙͇̤̦̙͕̥̺̻͚͈̹̼͈̼͇̳̳̪͕̥̪͗̉̔͒̾̀́̂̑̾͌͛̃̎̐́̆̀̕͜͜ͅi̸̛̛̺̗̦̭̹̫̩̥̲̤̘̲̬̹͊̒͊̎̋̐͌̍̂́̂́͐̅̇͆̃̊͂́̈͆͋̾̈́̍͑̎̈́̓̀͆̈̃́̅̿̊̉̌̈́̑͊̀̓̆̏̃͂̾̚̚͘͠͝͠͝͝͠͝c̶̨̨̧̢͕͙͉͙̗̟̺̝͍͔͎̟̲̺͈̫̥͍̬͔͕̠̩͕͍̰̱̟͇̠͖̮̺̩̯͈̟̲̱͉̖͎͎̝̙̥͍̻̞̘͎̖̲͑͒͊͋̿̒̔̄̈́̈́̉̐̿̀̌̐͛̉̓͌̃̀̾̕͘͘̕͘̚  was down there. All this time, doing all that sick shit to them. And you never said a word. Was I supposed to find out about that myself?
	Technically, you didn't. I didn't hide anything from you. You were going to find out eventually.
	Not like this.
	[Clarke makes a dry noise and opens his arms wide.]
	Happy Valentine's Day.

[Harding and Clarke's figures fade back into the static. The television switches itself back off.]