"This was a reasonable deduction, yet it still left me feeling somewhat dazed. Like at daybreak, when the sky had only just begun to lighten—there were always people who could not adapt to the brightness and instead found the profound darkness of night more reassuring. Rodriguez did not seem to feel that way. He adapted quickly, but perhaps he had immersed himself more deeply than I had during those dark years. Those thrilling adventures, enough to fill a memoir, had drifted away like smoke and clouds. When I spoke of them with him, we treated them as mere jokes, and only through scattered fragments could I glimpse faint traces of them. Was that why he treated cases with such calmness and indifference? No one knew. Even though we could be called friends, I could not say for certain. This solitary gentleman was like Gotham's morning fog—veiled and impossible to fathom."
"I'll have Milos and Pelota brought in for questioning," Gordon said. "With Brainiac around, neither of them can run. But don't place any hopes on their testimony. Brainiac strictly prohibits torture, and even softer forms of coercion are off-limits. We don't have much room to maneuver. It would be best if we had solid evidence to pry their mouths open."
"What a pain," Jonathan said. "Take down the surveillance cameras in the Gotham Police Department's ventilation system Maintenance Room, and we'll have an answer tonight."
"Then don't even think about leaving your Nature Reserve again," Schiller said coldly. "Brainiac."
Brainiac gave two beeps in agreement. Jonathan rolled his eyes dramatically, looked Schiller up and down, and said, "Fine then, Great Detective Rodriguez. Let's see what you can deduce."
"I'm sorry, but you are not my assistant, Mr. Fris. Let's return to the office. I need to think this over properly."