“Tested him, duh,” Rognard answered, as if explaining the obvious.
“I thought you said you wanted the Transformat only, why did you give him the virus?!”
Rognard, sorry, Singar looked nonchalant. He sighed deeply. “Yes, it’s true I wanted only the Transformat, and I did take it from him, but, you see, the Transformat doesn’t work for Jones as well as it does for you.”
“What?”James said. How would Rognard know anything about the Transformat, especially how well or not it worked for James.
“You see, I can touch Jones’ Transformat, feel it, and even wear it, though I haven’t tried yet. But I can’t touch yours. It almost burnt my fingers off that morning I was trying to get it off. This leads to the conclusion that you have the main Transformat. You are the key of it.”
Was this guy speaking English?
“Well, then why did you test him with the virus?” James asked. He was almost screaming.
Singar shrugged. “I was just checking what would happen should I use it on him whilst he wore the Transformat. But-“He looked at Singar disgustedly, like he wasn’t the one who did this to him. “Well, Jones here yielded unsatisfying results. I’m betting, that it would work cleverly n you, with, ah, interesting results.”
Singar clapped again, and this time, a Germ presented him with a syringe. A green liquid tossed around in it. With a pang, James realized it was the virus. Singar wasn’t bluffing. He really was going to test him.
“Oh, you’re in trouble,” Yetu sang teasingly, digging the point of his gun so deep into James’ neck, as if he thought he could strike gold.
“Ow!” James yelped. “That hurts, filthy, or is your ponytail tailed too tight?” By the way, filthy was the universal insult for Germs n the Inside. Everybody used it for every Germ, every time.
Singar approached James slowly, letting the tip of the needle catch the light and glint menacingly. “Don’t stick that thing in me.” James warned. But Singar was probably not terrified of some teenager tied up on the ground alone.
Yetu hugged James from behind tightly. James squirmed and tried to break free, but, as filthy and stupid as Yetu was, he was strong.
Singar was now so close. The needle of the syringe was poised over James’ neck. Don’t-stick-it-in-me.” James said through gritted teeth. But Singar emptied the green stuff into his neck.
He stepped back quickly, looking at James curiously, like a scientist waiting for his pet fish to sprout legs.
At first, nothing happened. Even James was curious, anxious about what was going to happen.