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(Content note: This is another Tobias story. Tobias, it seems, has ended up as my main schadenfreude puppet. There is nothing particularly sexy about this story, I don't think. It is a story of moral justice, instead. Read the tags carefully.)

The End of the Tunnel

Doctor Prosari listened, as Mary complained about Tobias for the fourth time. The lion was sympathetic, but after she was done, he repeated his promise to do more He would try to think of something else.

But after she left, he knew his ideas were running short. He already had Tobias escorted at all times, and tried to make sure his shift made him interact only with males, but that was statistically impossible to make perfect. In response, Tobias just got more and more subtle about his abuse to the females he did see, like Mary. All he had to do now was look at her, or make a subtle gesture no one but her would notice, and that by itself would almost undo her. How Tobias got so much power over her in such a short period of time wasn't entirely clear to him, but that skill was what sent him to prison in the first place.

Dr. Prosari re-read the report, again, not for guidance, but for reassurance. Its conclusions were quite clear: there was nothing that could be done. In the estimation of the three psychologists who had examined him, not even chemical castration would cure Tobias. For even if his desire for contact with the opposite sex might be lessened, his disrespect for them would brood. And it was that, they asserted, that was what caused him to commit his crimes, and continued to make him aggressive towards females.

There was only one thing more he could do, thought Dr. Prosari. It would be illegal, unethical, and would probably ruin him if anyone even found out, but ...

There was a knock at his door. He shoved the report back into his desk, and pulled out a copy of a much more recent letter. Trying to cover his sense of disgust with a smile, he stated, "enter."

The heavy wooden door opened, and in walked a mutt dog in forest green scrubs, hands cuffed behind his back, escorted by a labrador taller and thinner than he was. The prisoner's heavy black ears showed that he was a little nervous. "You wanted to see me, Doc?" he asked.

"I have some good news, Tobias," he said with his feigned smile, putting the letter on the desk. "This says that, because of your exemplary service to science, the parole board will reduce the remainder of your house arrest to observation, after you complete this last mission."

The guard took the letter, and held it up to Tobias' nose. He probably didn't read the entire first paragraph of the full page before he smiled. "Really? That's great, Doc."

"So if you get through one more, then you get to leave the house again, and you get paid. All that money to start a new life with."

"I'm looking forward to it," he said with a smile. "In fact, I already talked to someone about investing it."

"Really?" asked the Doctor politely, honestly trying to see the best in this serial rapist to maintain his facade of complacency.

"Yeah. He talked about managing money, making it grow, and making sure it went where I wanted if something went wrong. You know, all those risks you keep talking about."

"That's a good idea, Tobias," stated the lion, projecting extra physician's calm. "You never know what's going to happen."

"And Doc? You might as well know: I've decided that because you and Mr. Barton are so smart, so good at what you do -- I talked to my lawyer, and he made sure, if something happens to me on this last mission, your company oughta have it all."

The lion swallowed. That was quite a surprise, and a rather ominous one. "Well, um," he stammered, "I... I don't know what to say, Tobias," he answered truthfully.

"I mean, science is just the right thing to do. You know, if I actually did something with my life, I'd do that. Know what I mean? Might even have to start my own company one of these days."

Probably going to have lots of female employees, thought Dr. Prosari.

A thought that seemed to make his emotional grip slip, because Tobias asked, "you okay, Doc?"

"Oh, uh, yes," sighed the lion, relaxing back into his chair -- unaware until that moment he was sitting up straight. "Anyway, you'd better get suited up. It'll only be another 3 or 4 hours."

"Right," answered Tobias happily, as he left the office genuinely happy.

And as the door closed, Dr. Prosari decided. At the thought of all the females Tobias would hurt, all the money he would waste, all of the places he would surely try to escape to... he had to be stopped, after all.

And if he did it right, he would never get caught.

***

Four hours later, Dr. Prosari was in the room with a patient, explaining the procedure, as another nurse in another room did the same. It was blinded, so he didn't know whether it would be this patient or the other that got the active capsule, until a coin toss in his office in 15 minutes.

"So the key thing to remember," he repeated for the second time, "is that this pill is expected to be a supplement, to help us determine what, if anything, we missed. Okay?"

The leopard in the chair nodded slowly. After a short pause, he asked sleepily, "how will I know if I got the real thing or not?"

"You won't until I call you tomorrow morning," Dr. Prosari answered. "If you have a problem, then feel free to call. I expect the pill shouldn'n cause too much discomfort, but it seems to vary patient to patient."

"Okay." The patient seemed a little hesitant through his drowsiness. "I hope I get it."

"So do I," reassured Dr. Prosari with a smile. "Now then, you have done the standard prep again, yes?"

"Yeah. That stuff tasted awful."

"I know, but we have to be able to see in there. But with this capsule, you can eat about 3-4 hours after you take it, unlike the procedure."

"Good. I'm quite hungry. ... Uh, how does that thing work, exactly?"

Dr. Prosari smiled as he recited the standard answer. "It's a long story, and I'm afraid I'm under Non-disclosure on a lot of it. It's a really sophisticated piece of technology, of course, but what you should imagine is a little furson inside there who can examine everything, do basic tests, and send the data back to us. Just make sure you keep the radio relay by your bed, and don't move around too much, and it will do its job." He patted the small backpack on the desk.

"So... nanotech? Computers?"

"That sort of thing, yes."

The leopard nodded again. " suppose if it means you'll know better what's wrong with me, it's worth it."

Dr. Prosari saw the discomfort on his face. "I can tell you, this will be a big help. Because Rajdahl's Disease and Kerrig's Disease both look very similar, even on the inside. The extra data provided by this capsule can help us quite a bit in telling them apart, with a chemical analysis."

The leopard nodded.

Dr. Prosari saw it as beyond his power to get him to like the idea, but perhaps at least he could feel better about it after a while. "Any more questions?" he concluded.

"No."

"Okay then, let's go to the exam room, and begin."

***

Once Tobias had strapped himself in, and he felt the container he was in bobbing, he called "radio check."

"Affirmative," said another voice back.

"Okay, I'm all strapped in.. One last time, let's do this."

He had to wait a couple minutes, but he felt himself tilt, spin, and then heard a great rushing sound -- a sound more like an ocean than the tiny amount of water it actually was, because the sound waves were their original size, unlike his own atoms. As always, he closed his eyes in the dim glow of his console, and said, "wheeee!"

"Which ride is it this time?" asked the voice at the other end.

"Heh heh. I don't know, but it seems to have a lot more spin than usual... okay, I think I've landed," he stated, as he felt the steel frame bump, and gauges spike, showing a very high acidity.

"This is Dr. Prosari," stated a second voice, warped downard in pitch from a tenor to a baritone, "I have the data link on my end."

"Good. And say, doc? Is my patient a guy or a girl?"

"A guy," he answered.

"Oh come on! Why can't you let this one be a girl? It's the last one!"

"Because if I did, would you really be thinking about your job, or would you spend all your time imagining what she looked like on the outside?"

Tobias sighed. "I suppose you have a point, Doc," he sheepishly answered. Unspoken, of course, would be that he would not have his mind elsewhere, but he wouldn't have both hands on the console, either.

"I'll be going home soon," the Doctor continued, "but Dr. Erickson here will be watching the data come in, and will advise you on particular procedures when the time comes."

"Right."

"Good luck, Tobias."

Tobias took this opportunity to take a nap. There was nothing he could do until after the capsule returned to the dry area, and the console was programmed to make loud noises when that happened, not to mention Dr. Erickson barking orders at him. So, he adjusted the straps on his harness, pulled the headrest flat, closed his eyes... and imagined himself on a quiet lake, only a wave or two, here or there, and a little bit of motion.

And maybe there were a couple of females on the boat, in bikini's...

BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP--

Tobias dragged himself from sleep, as he noticed the motion had gone from drifting around in the bottom of a lake, to just moving slowly along the back of a snake.

He sat up, turned off the console, and after a yawn, said into the radio, "Dr. Erickson? You there?"

"Yes, Tobias."

"I've landed."

"Okay, good. First thing's first, do an examination of the ilium for scarring."

"Roger that," he said as he got out of the harness, "I'll have it done in 10 minutes."

He went over to the seal, unlocked it, and then pulled a lever on the bottom of the sphere up toward himself. He pulled until sphere around him rolled onto its back, and its hinge opened about 15 degrees. Then, using the flashlight attached at the top of his suit like a mining helmet, he climbed out, and carefully upwards on the shifting wall of tissue. After going past a little bit of muck, he found the knotted bundle he wanted, which to him seemed almost 10 feet high. He ran his gloves over it, poked at it a little bit, and checked the color: it seemed okay.

"No scarring," he reported, "but it's a little softer than others I've seen."

"Noted. Anything unusual in the surrounding tissue?"

Tobias got the cleaning rag -- a mop without a handle -- out of his toolbelt, picked a couple spots, and wiped off the thin layer of mucus and goop from the wall, one spot after another. Each time, he checked their color, and also used a small device to take a tissue sample which he perceived to be the size of a dime. To the patient, it was probably smaller than a grain of sand.

"I think it's pretty clear up here, Doc. I'll send you the results of the culture."

Tobias returned to the pod, closed it, and put each of the sample containers into slots inside console according to procedure. The computer then scanned them, did who knows what, and sent data back.

"Okay, I'm getting the data," answered Dr. Erickson. "Looks good. Okay, keep moving along -- but don't push ahead too fast, or you will give him a stomach ache."

"Yes sir."

6 hours later, repeating the same procedure dozens of times, Tobias completed his last survey. After sending the data, and checking that Dr. Erickson got a picture, he got back into the capsule.

There was only one thing to do now: wait.

That was quite hard for Tobias. He was generally a restless can-do type -- the type who would undertake such a dangerous mission, even for its good pay. But at the end of every mission, there was the plain and simple fact that the patient was not compelled to let the capsule exit at any particular time. In fact, the large majority of his patients slept a full 8-hour night, letting their involuntary reflexes move Tobias along, and not allow his escape until the next morning. He looked at the clock, concluded the patient was asleep, and decided that having another longer nap would not be a bad idea.

So, he relaxed, and put himself back on that boat -- this time with four females, who would have to fight for him.

***

The next morning, Dr. Prosari woke up on the early side. While he was usually restless when his experiments were going on, today he was also short on sleep. It was hard to sleep while convincing himself to complete his plan.

He got to the office half an hour earlier than usual, about 6 AM, and looked over the data. Dr. Erickson himself had long since gone home, leaving the computer and the radio quiet. Dr. Prosari tried to forget about the radio, and about what he was going to do; he just tried to examine the data in an unbiased way.

The data, as he would expect, did clear up the picture. The tissue samples were clear: the patient definitely had Rajdahl's disease. The antibody series showed that, as well as the depth of the inflammation. He typed up the summary of the data, -- and re-typed it, for the next several hours, trying very hard to keep his mind on it. He just needed something to do, in order to fill the time until he decided to actually commit his crime.

At 8:30 AM, he caved, and decided that it was time, just to get it over with. He took the two patients' information, tore off two corners of a sheet of paper, and wrote down each telephone number down. He then turned the two pieces over, and swirled them around on his desk, with his eyes shut, spinning them one hand to the other. He lost track of which was which -- so that this could be, in good conscience, considered an accident.

Once he had satisfied himself that he knew not which was which, he grabbed the phone number on his left, read it, and dialed it. As it rang, he felt the dice of the universe rolling for the fate of Tobias. He had a 50% chance of being killed, and 50% chance of living to rape again.

The voice on the other end was sleepy. "Hello?" it grunted.

"Hello, This is Dr. Prosari. I was just calling to see how you --"

"Not good, doc!" he growled. "I told your assistant about the terrible cramps, and he wouldn't do anything!"

"I'm sorry about that," calmly continued Dr. Prosari, as his heart began to race. "But it's over. I'm calling to inform you that you got the placebo. I will schedule your appointment wi--"

"I knew it!" he yelled into the phone, "I put up with all the pain and suffering for nothing! Thanks a lot Doc!" The phone went dead.

***

BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP--

Tobias slowly opened his eyes -- but then felt gravity had shifted from his chest to his head, and he was now upside down, which got him awake much faster.

Free at last, he thought. First back to the lab, then money... and freedom.

But before he could even consider that, the world spun yet again, and he entered freefall for a brief moment, before an impact so large, he was thrown against the console.

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ--

"What the hell!" he yelled, as the computer notified him of another problem: he was submerged in water.

He grabbed the radio instantly. "Doc! Doc! What's going on?!"

But instead of an answer, his console replied: LINK TERMINATED.

A great force bumped against the outside of his ball, causing a loud clank, and making it roll a little on some surface.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit..." He muttered, trying to figure out what was going on.

He knew that he didn't have much oxygen left. His pressurized suit was all he would get, because the oxygen molecules were over 100 times too large for his lungs to process. But he couldn't stay here. He had to see what was going on. It didn't matter if it blew the secret of his size. He had to escape this capsule and get someone's attention, or he would die.

He pulled himself out of the harness, crawled along the side wall, switched off main power on the console, and pulled up on the lever again. It was hard to open this time; something heavy was weighing down on on the capsule, and keeping it from rolling. He pulled with all his might, and that finally got it to open enough that water started leaking in through a crack.

He relaxed and took a breath, then pulled it again, transmitting tremendous force through the hydraulic mechanism of the hinge. That was barely enough to get it to rise to a trickle -- but once it did, enough water soon accumulated in the bottom that the pressure started to equalize. It was a rather sudden moment when the air bubble rose, escaped through the gap in the hinge, and in so doing, lifted it open. The water rushed in, and almost knocked Tobias over with its force.

The water was clear, and the outside was dimly lit. It was hard for him to see, as he swam out of the capsule, onto an egg-white surface... of a toilet bowl.

He looked up just in time in the light reflecting in pools and waves off the surface to see an immense turd the size of a car emerge from a gigantic tailhole.

"No!" he yelled, as it splashed down above to him, creating a small wave which knocked him toward the back of the bowl. He tried to get a grip on the wall, but he couldn't. It was too slick. He swam to the surface of the pool, and saw what he expected to see: no way up. He would have to jump or climb what seemed 30 feet in the air to get onto the seat, and pull himself out. It was impossible.

Another turd dropped. He swam over to it, thankful his suit was airtight, and tried to climb up on it -- only to have another splat right next to him, a corner of hitting him in the head as it fell. Tobias was knocked off, and when he landed in the water, felt a little dizzy. He sank most of the way to the bottom with other pieces of shit before he snapped out of his daze, and swam back up to the surface of the giant, artificial lake, head throbbing. He just had to get up and out of there...

He saw the massive creature he'd been sent through wipe -- and tried to grab onto the end of the hanging toilet paper, but it wasn't low enough. It was dropped into the bowl, on top of him, and pushed him under water. He managed to rip a hole in the material that seemed like the weight of his shirt, only to have another strip land on him. Tobias knew he was almost done, and he had to get up there...

But once he managed to get to the surface and see again, the creature's butt was gone. "Noooo!" cried Tobias, tears coming to his eyes. That risk of death, the one which he had signed for when he went on his first mission, was now coming to roost, at last. He would be flushed, and then suffocate when his already-low oxygen ran out.

A rip-current started in the bowl, but there was nothing he could do. He was pulled in, down, and then through into darkness by the unstoppable force of the water. There was no hope now. Eyes still trailing tears, Tobias slid his arm out of the suit arm, and pulled the sedative needle from a pocket sewn to the inside of the suit's chest. He closed his eyes, winced, and and stabbed himself in the arm. He felt the cold medicine enter his veins.

As he fell asleep, never to awaken, he thought of those beautiful girls, one last time in thoughts only fit for a dying rapist.

***

Dr. Prosari managed to get through the morning, but the moment he left the building for lunch, he cracked. He rushed home, and bawled into his pillow for what seemed like half an hour. Once he could breathe again, he called everyone who could console him.

First, Dr. Eckerson, who told him that it was luck which kept this from happening already. Next, the company lawyer, who assured him that his mistake of dialing the wrong number was covered under Tobias' wavier, and that she would make sure the prison system didn't ask for his body. But it wasn't until Dr. Grund from psychology, one of his long-time friends, talked him into meeting at a cafe after hours that he could actually process what he was being told.

"These things happen," she said. "Look, if you insist on blaming yourself, through whatever subconscious mechanism, fine. Do that. I can't stop you. But it's happened. Take some time off, to deal with it. Think about it, obsess about it, do what you need to do to make peace with yourself. Then come back, and continue to develop the technology which has much bigger ramifications for thousands if not millions more."

It was only with this thought, this realignment of his priorities, that Dr. Prosari was able to say anything. "It's terrible to say," gasped Prosari, still barely able to speak, "but a couple hours before, I wanted him dead. He was a serial rapist of females. A menace. Sometimes, I was convinced there was no more to his life that just the thing that got him put in prison..."

Dr. Grund just listened.

"And so... I wanted him to die. And I got my wish," Prosari sobbed, taking a deep breath to keep more tears from escaping.

"If that's really what you think," offered Dr. Grund, "then be happy. Know that many more females are safer without him. Know that his death will benefit you with money. And know that, because you didn't murder him to get it, you can enjoy those things guilt free."

"I guess I didn't murder him, did I?" repeated Rosari, his mind gradually drifting toward the idea.

"You called the wrong number, not put a knife in his chest," Grund pointed out. "If anything, it's your patient who ought to be responsible for his death."

Prosari took a deep breath and thought this over for a moment, before he nodded. "You know, you have a point there," he mulled. That way of looking at it never having occurred to him even in the midst of his former plotting.

"Just think about that for a while. I'm sure you'll feel better before you know it."

Prosari nodded. "I'm sure I will."

That was the plan, after all.

The End.