《Suffer Wardens》
Chapter 1
¡°This shouldn¡¯t be. We¡¯ve followed protocol, her re-training is complete, why hasn¡¯t this SCI score come down? If anything, it¡¯s steadily risen.¡±
¡°Relax. Simulating the future is an imprecise science. Plus, the time immediately following re-training is usually the most volatile. Remember Henry? His numbers never really settled and he¡¯s been here for what? 1,200 years? Gentle as a lamb the whole time. You really think he¡¯s gonna escape back to Earth and behead the Pope now?¡±
¡°I know I know, it¡¯s not about the numbers. ¡®Stopping one to save two billion is right, stopping one to save two is equally right.¡¯ It¡¯s just reassuring to get confirmation that we are doing what¡¯s right, especially when we pick them up so young and innocent.¡±
¡°Hey now, you¡¯re not going all Minority Report on me, are you?¡±
¡°Minority Report? Is that another one of those ridiculous video games you love so much? With the amount of violence portrayed in those things, I sometimes wonder if we should have just let Fyodor launch those nukes.¡±
¡°Nah, it¡¯s a movie, also violent of course. We are talking about Earthlings after all. I¡¯m sure you¡¯d hate it.¡±
¡°Probably. Though I suppose if every planet evolved as peacefully as Lennor we¡¯d be out of work.¡±
¡°And there would be no use for your precious SCI numbers! How would we ever know that we¡¯re doing the right thing?¡±
¡°Ugh, sarcasm. You need a vacation. How about getting some real culture instead of obsessing over Earth? Have you felt the latest vibrando compilation from Es¡¯kar? It¡¯s transcendentally beautiful what humanoids can accomplish once they¡¯ve evolved past all that intra-species competition.¡±
¡°You know well enough that it¡¯s all a necessary part of the process. Why not enjoy the unique creations of the planet to which you¡¯ve been assigned?¡±
¡°I¡¯m well-versed in the arts and entertainment Earthlings have produced. It¡¯s just so...primitive.¡±
¡°Oh come on, who doesn¡¯t love a story of someone overcoming all odds to triumph over evil? Earthlings have created some of the best versions of those in the galaxy!¡±
¡°When an entire species tells the same exact story over and over again for millennia, something good is bound to be produced. What¡¯s that saying about a room full of monkeys with typing machines?¡±
¡°Not sure. Sounds like something a Rigellian would say.¡±
¡°Well an Earthling couldn¡¯t have come up with something so clever, that much is certain.¡±
It had been months since Sheila arrived at the facility, probably. Or maybe prison was a better word for it. Or space station. Sheila didn¡¯t really know where she was. Or when. But she knew that she wasn¡¯t in her old world. Here, everything was different. The ambiance was minimal and practical, yet sophisticated. There were no lights to be seen anywhere. Her room was lit of course, allowing her to see just fine, but there were no lamps, no bulbs, no distinguishable sources of light. It was as if the air itself glowed. The walls also hinted that this place was alien, or very technologically advanced. Probably both. The wall was decorated with scenes of beautiful landscapes portrayed through a cross between what looked like a window and a painting but with no discernible lines of delineation between the ¡°wall¡± and the ¡°window¡± which only left Sheila with a feeling of confusion when she tried to contemplate what exactly she was looking at or through. The scenes through the ¡°windows¡± would change regularly too, although Sheila could never quite recall what the previous scene looked like, only that the current one was new and even more serene and beautiful than the last.
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Whenever Sheila tried to reconstruct how she got here in her mind, she remembered being home playing with her brother and his friends, or at least trying to play with them. They were teasing her for being a chicken because she was too frightened to jump off the roof of the shed, which was the only way the boys would allow her to join them.
¡°Prove you¡¯re brave enough and then you can come to the skate park with us,¡± they told her.
Sheila didn¡¯t even want to go to the skate park but she¡¯d always had a strong need for acceptance. To have a group of her own friends who all liked doing what Sheila liked to do, that was her ultimate dream. Maybe if she could show her brother¡¯s friends that she was fun and cool she could have that. However, as was inevitably the case with those she sought approval from, be it her classmates or her brother¡¯s friends or her mother, she was never quite good enough. And even when she knew how to be good enough, she was either too scared or too incompetent to be good enough.
With their ridicule ringing in her ears as her brother and his friends rode their bikes away, Sheila sought refuge in her mind by imagining her ultimate fantasy. She imagined, as she often would, that she could simply press a button and make them do whatever she wanted, force them to turn around and come back and be her friend. If only she could be the one who everyone loved, if only she could be the one to decide who was worthy of her time and attention, if only she could make the mean ones pay.
And that was as far as she could remember. The next thing she knew she was here, in this room of hers that she hadn¡¯t left since she arrived, although it was so warmly appealing that she never felt the urge to leave it.
Her memory of home, of her previous life where she never quite fit in, felt so long ago. Sheila did fit in here, she received plenty of love and attention now, albeit from strangely tall and slender people who were always wearing body suits and masks. And perhaps it wasn¡¯t quite love that they gave Sheila, but it was as close to it as she¡¯d ever known.
These masked men and women seemed to really care about her well-being, in fact they seemed to be constantly with her, asking her questions, giving her tests, teaching her all sorts of information and skills. Frightened as she was when she first arrived, Sheila quickly grew to enjoy her new life, one day she simply decided to make the best of her current situation and from that point on she was content.
Her daily routine was consistent but never boring. For instance, the teaching sessions here were thoroughly engaging, a sharp contrast from being in class back home where she couldn¡¯t help but daydream constantly. With these masked teachers, if she began to lose interest in the current topic she could simply ask to do what she felt like doing and the teachers were always accommodating. It was somewhat surprising to Sheila to realize that she actually very much liked to learn as long as she was being taught things that were of interest to her.
Nearly every lesson was focused on Sheila¡¯s feelings. ¡°How would you feel if your brother walked through the door right now?¡± The teachers would often ask at the beginning of the day. Whatever response Sheila gave would in turn lead to a lesson about a particular philosophy or technique that could be used to reframe whichever emotion she was feeling as a simple thought, not something that could control her actions in any way. And Sheila insatiably devoured this knowledge. Finally she realized, if she could only control her response to a negative situation, there was no need to control the situation itself, or the people who caused her to feel bad. A transformation occurred within her. Sheila felt like a new person, she felt confident, like she could do anything she set her mind to. She couldn¡¯t wait to get back home and show everyone her new self.
The door to Sheila¡¯s room silently slid open and in walked 2 masked teachers, as they had done many times since Sheila arrived.
¡°We¡¯re going to be introducing some new activities for you to engage in Sheila, is that something you¡¯d be interested in?¡±, asked a particularly motherly masked teacher.
¡°There¡¯s nothing more I¡¯d rather do! How exciting to try something new!¡± replied Sheila as a glimmer of a confusing thought passed through her consciousness leaving a fleeting sense of dread that quickly resolved again into excited anticipation for the new activity. The mental fortitude training she¡¯d received over the past several months helped her recognize dread as an unhelpful negative emotion and to let it pass without dwelling on it or letting it control her actions.
¡°Sheila, I¡¯d like to introduce you to Henry,¡± said the motherly masked teacher.
Chapter 2
Sheila found herself in a new room, one that was bigger and divided into several distinct areas. One section contained a few dining tables and chairs. A group of people were sitting around one of the tables and were eating, talking, and laughing with each other. There was another section with rows of large plush chairs in a row, all facing a gigantic television. Beneath the TV was an expansive bookcase filled from end to end with movies. There was a full-size soccer field that was illuminated with the distinct yellowish-white of the mid-afternoon sun, though here too no source of light could be identified.
¡°Nice to meet you Sheila,¡± said the man standing in front of her, arm outstretched for a handshake. He was an adult, much older than Sheila but not old by any means. Based on Sheila¡¯s limited life experience, she could only place his age as being somewhere between ¡°old enough to drive a car¡± and ¡°younger than Mom¡±. He had dark hair, dark eyes, and golden complexion with a long thin face that made his smile seem impossibly wide, which in turn radiated an unmistakable feeling of warmth and trust.
¡°Nice to meet you,¡± replied Sheila timidly. Seeing another person who wasn¡¯t wearing a mask and body suit brought back all of Sheila¡¯s old insecurities and embarrassingly awkward ticks. Her face blazed red and a sheen of sweat formed on her skin, she instinctively bit her upper lip with her lower teeth and couldn¡¯t help but look down at the floor. She wanted nothing more than to immediately disappear back to her room, alone.
The door to Sheila¡¯s room slid open and the same motherly teacher entered. Sheila felt calm and content, eager for today¡¯s lesson.
In her consistently calming, reassuring voice, the teacher said ¡°Sheila, the man you met, Henry, wants to get to know you. He wants to be your friend. Will you let him come in and talk to you?¡±
The memory of meeting Henry suddenly returned, although here in her room where it was only Sheila and her teacher, she was able to more easily recall her mental fortitude training and could analyze the interaction from a less emotional perspective. She had acted childish, even rude, to someone who seemed to be perfectly nice. In the moment she completely forgot everything she¡¯d been taught about dealing with negative emotions. It seemed like everyone she had met in her previous life, anyone who didn¡¯t wear a mask, existed just to antagonize her. She had all but forgotten how stressful and embarrassing life was back home until it all came rushing back as she stood in front of Henry. An image of her brother¡¯s malignant face flashed across her mind and then in an instant she was pushing her negative emotions away and once again felt content.
¡°I think that would be fine,¡± said Sheila. ¡°I should probably apologize for how I acted, right?¡±
¡°That¡¯s up to you, Sheila. What do you feel like doing?¡±, came the motherly response.
Sheila felt a strong desire to apologize and ask for forgiveness well up inside of her. Suddenly she desperately wanted to see Henry again, if only to say sorry.
¡°I¡¯d like to see Henry now, please.¡±
Sheila always looked forward to her dates with Henry. That¡¯s what Henry called them anyway. ¡°If we¡¯re both going to feel extremely nervous while we awkwardly get to know each other over meals and movies then that¡¯s the best word I can think of to describe it,¡± he¡¯d say. Although their relationship much more closely resembled a mentor/mentee bond. Henry had been here for a long time and knew how things worked, he¡¯d told Sheila. He felt it was his duty to take her under his wing and provide support and companionship during her time here. Sheila too felt an obligation to learn from Henry, even humoring him when he occasionally came across as condescending. By now Sheila couldn¡¯t even remember what it was like when she didn¡¯t feel comfortable around Henry. He was the only other real person she spoke to who wasn¡¯t wearing a mask, but more importantly, Henry was Sheila¡¯s first real friend. He seemed to genuinely enjoy her company, they shared many of the same interests (despite disagreeing on which Harry Potter book was best), and it didn¡¯t hurt that he was rather handsome and unfailingly charming.
¡°I told you before! The Shawshank Redemption is age-restricted for me. The TV knows that I¡¯m watching it somehow,¡± Sheila said to Henry as they sat in the middle of the empty soccer field, enjoying the warmth of the sun that wasn¡¯t there.
¡°I don¡¯t remember you saying that. Are you sure you didn¡¯t tell it to your other, even best-er friend?¡± Henry quipped with a grin.
Sheila playfully smacked his arm and dramatically rolled her eyes then plucked two blades of grass and absent-mindedly began twisting them around each other. She thought of how grateful she was for this friendship, this place, this life. She lazily smiled and then her face grew thoughtful and serious.
¡°You know Henry, I don¡¯t want to spend time with anyone else. Ever. I see the others around, enjoying themselves and each other¡¯s company, and I feel no desire to get to know them. I only want to be with you.¡±
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Sheila felt surprised by her own candid words. She¡¯d lived her entire life so guarded, always putting on a front, trying to please or impress whoever was in her company. She had never felt so at ease with someone to confess such a deep and meaningful feeling. Her cheeks warmed and she knew she was blushing, but she was okay with it. Henry was a true friend. He could know everything about her and that was alright.
Sheila looked up from her entwined blades of grass and saw Henry staring deep into her eyes, his face confessed a seriousness that she had never quite seen.
¡°Sheila, you deserve everything you desire. If there is ever anything I can do to help you, in any way, I promise I will do it.¡±
Sheila felt her cheeks blaze hot red and her breath became short as she gazed back into Henry¡¯s dark dilated eyes. His face suddenly relaxed and his familiar wide smile stretched over his face.
¡°Of course you¡¯ll have to dump that best-er friend of yours who you¡¯re always ditching me for!¡±
The tension between them evaporated immediately and Sheila threw the blades of grass into Henry¡¯s face with a smile.
¡°We both know that¡¯s never gonna happen! I think I hear him calling now!,¡± Sheila playfully retorted as she drew her hand up and cupped her ear in a dramatic fashion. ¡°Yes? What is it best-est friend? Oh you agree that Prisoner of Azkaban is the best Harry Potter and anyone who thinks otherwise is a dolt?¡±
Henry playfully pushed Sheila and they both fell to the grass and looked up at the ceiling that resembled the sky.
¡°Speaking of other friends,¡± said Henry. ¡°Before we met up today I caught one of the masked people looking through the movie collection and we started chatting. Turns out he¡¯s a huge movie buff and he¡¯s never seen Memento! Can you believe it?¡±
¡°Umm I don¡¯t know, I think that one¡¯s age restricted for me too,¡± said Sheila. ¡°Although I¡¯m kind of surprised that the maskers like movies. They always seem so...professional. It¡¯s hard to imagine them relaxing and having fun.¡±
¡°Oh most of them have a fun side, you just need to ask. But I know what you mean. I¡¯ve never come across one who seemed like they wanted to just hang out and watch movies. And this guy totally does! He said he was gonna get me from my room later when he had some free time. I think it should be pretty fun.¡±
¡°Well I¡¯m happy for you,¡± Sheila said. But she didn¡¯t mean it. In fact she didn¡¯t like the idea at all. How dare this masker come and try to befriend Henry! Henry was hers! And the nerve of Henry to just go along with it without so much as asking Sheila if she was okay with him spending time with someone else!
¡°How would you feel if your mother walked through the door right now?¡± The masked teacher had briskly entered Sheila¡¯s room and blurted the question without pretense to start the lesson for the day. Sheila looked toward the door to her room from where she was sitting, cross-legged on the floor.
¡°I would feel¡,¡± she began before trailing off as she attempted to fully visualize her mother striding into the room. Sheila imagined her mother striding toward her, the pronounced bags under her eyes, her dark hair wrapped into a loose bun, her jaw clenched and eyes focused. A slow and steady tightening formed in Sheila¡¯s chest and a sensation of shame and guilt began to gather in her mind. Sheila drew her focus into herself and took a deep breath while remembering that these emotions did not control her if she didn¡¯t let them. She began to relax as the tightness released from her chest and she told herself that she had nothing to feel shameful about. The door to her room slid open silently.
¡°How would you feel if your brother¡¯s friend Jeremy walked through the door right now?¡±, asked the masked teacher to start the lesson for the day. Sheila and the teacher were sitting across from each other at a wooden desk with nothing on it. The lessons here never involved books or paper or computers, they were always simply conversations between student and teacher. Sheila¡¯s back was to the door so she closed her eyes and visualized that the door had silently opened and Jeremy was approaching her from behind. Anger and embarrassment welled up for a moment until Sheila regained control and allowed the emotions to pass. After all, this very hypothetical question had been regularly asked of her so she knew what kind of emotional response to expect and had been getting better at handling it. ¡°I would¡, ¡± tap tap tap. Sheila, startled by someone tapping her shoulder to get her attention turned to look and saw Jeremy standing behind her. He was dressed in the blue shorts and orange tee-shirt he was wearing the last time Sheila saw him and the memory of his genuine amusement and laughter at her pain rushed back into her consciousness.
¡°How! You? No!¡± said Sheila as she stood up from her chair and backed away from Jeremy, slightly stumbling as she stepped.
¡°Hi Sheila,¡± he said as he smiled.
The emotions she had visualized just a moment earlier began welling up inside her. Somehow, in her stupefied state, she remembered her mental fortitude training. She allowed herself to pause and collect herself. As she exhaled, the incapacitating anger and embarrassment began to subside. She wasn¡¯t able to completely relax, but she could regain her composure. She stopped backing away and stood still, looking directly back at Jeremy.
¡°Hi Jeremy,¡± she replied.
¡°Excellent! Excellent! Excellent!¡± exclaimed the masked teacher. ¡°I knew you could do it!¡±
Jeremy simply vanished away in a blink. A hologram or illusion, Sheila guessed. Some trick of the technology of this strange place. A test. And she passed.
¡°You¡¯ve made wonderful progress Sheila. I¡¯m so happy for you!¡± Said the teacher.
Sheila gave up an uneasy smile as she looked at the blank masked face. Feeling slightly shaken at the whole experience, Sheila asked, ¡°Can I see Henry now?¡±
Chapter 3
Chapter 3
Sheila and Henry were sitting next to each other in the big plush chairs in front of the TV. The credits were rolling on Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.
¡°Oh I forgot to tell you,¡± Sheila said. ¡°They had my Aunt Jenny walk in today. You know what I said to her?¡±
¡°Considering how many times you¡¯ve asked your hologram mother to do a handstand, I don¡¯t know, did you tell her to hop on one foot and flap her arms like a chicken?¡± came Henry¡¯s reply with a yawn.
¡°Haha, no but I think I will next time. I asked her if I should watch Shawshank Redemption.¡±
¡°Now you¡¯re asking the important questions. We¡¯ll truly know whether hologram Aunt Jenny has any taste in movies.¡±
¡°She said ¡®no¡¯¡± Sheila said. ¡°I always liked Aunt Jenny, I trust her opinion.¡± A wry smile spread over Sheila¡¯s face and she looked at Henry from the corner of her eye.
¡°Well that settles it. None of your holographic family has any sense of quality. I see where you get your affinity for Prisoner of Azkaban from.¡±
¡°I thought you¡¯d like that.¡± Sheila turned to face Henry. ¡°I think that settles our theory about the holograms though, they will answer a yes or no question but it¡¯s always the answer you don¡¯t want to hear. Remember when I told you about asking ¡®my brother¡¯ if he loved me and he said ¡®no¡¯? As hurt as I was at the time, the funny thing is, when I was thinking about it later, I actually felt relieved. How could he have been so cruel to me all the time if he did love me?¡±
¡°Well it was just a hologram whose purpose is to strain your emotions, that doesn¡¯t necessarily mean your real brother feels that way,¡± Henry replied.
¡°I know it¡¯s not actually him, but it made me think. Maybe my brother really didn¡¯t love me. Maybe my mom didn¡¯t either. And that thought makes me feel so much better, it¡¯s liberating. Why should I waste my energy worrying about what they think of me if they don¡¯t even love me?¡± Said Sheila.
¡°That¡¯s really sad, Sheila. I hope your mother and brother do love you. But even if they don¡¯t, you¡¯ve always got me. I promise I¡¯m not going anywhere. No one is more important to me than you.¡± Henry said.
¡°I know Henry. I really appreciate you,¡± said Sheila. ¡°Now, are you ready for the best movie in the series? Nay, the best movie in the world?¡±
¡°I think you¡¯ll have to watch this one alone, I can¡¯t do three in a row. Besides, I¡¯ve got plans later.¡± Henry said slyly with a grin.
¡°Oh yeah? Watching movies with a masker?¡± Asked Sheila.
¡°Whoa that¡¯s a creepily good guess. Yeah I am, I saw a masker looking through the movie collection and we started chatting. Turns out he¡¯s a huge movie buff and he¡¯s never seen The Bourne Identity!¡± Henry said.
A strong sense of jealousy surged within Sheila. Again, Henry was going to be spending time with someone else and didn¡¯t so much as ask if Sheila was okay with it!
¡°Hey, you¡¯re not jealous are you? No one is more important to me than you, Sheila. If there is anything I can do for you, I¡¯ll do it, just say the word.¡± Henry said. He had noticed Sheila¡¯s face turning red and her jaw clenching.
Sheila relaxed. She knew that it was irrational to try to control someone¡¯s every action. And what harm is there in letting Henry watch a movie with a masker? He must have his daily share of teaching lessons with maskers just like Sheila did and she didn¡¯t feel jealous of that.
¡°No Henry, of course you can watch the movie with the masker.¡± It took every iota of self control for Sheila to keep her emotions in check and get the words out.
¡°I knew you¡¯d understand!¡± Said Henry with a wide smile. ¡°I¡¯m gonna grab some food, I¡¯ll be right over in the mess if you miss me too much.¡± Henry squeezed Sheila¡¯s hand and walked toward the dining area.
Sheila, now alone, decided that a movie should distract her enough to calm down again and crawled in front of the bookcase of movies. She pulled Chamber of Secrets out of the player and put it back in the case and then grabbed Prisoner of Azkaban from the shelf. As Sheila opened the case and reached down to grab the disc, she stopped short, shocked at the discovery of a folded, yellow piece of paper resting on the disc. Sheila looked around to see if anyone was nearby. There was a group of people playing soccer across the way and a woman reading alone in a bean bag next to the endless bookcases in the library section but no one close enough to pay any attention to what was happening in front of the TV.
Sheila hesitantly picked up the paper and set the case down on the floor. She couldn¡¯t remember the last time she¡¯d seen paper. She had convinced herself that this place was so futuristic that paper was simply obsolete. Yet here was a folded note, inside the case of her favorite movie. She turned her back to the rest of the room to hide her handling of the seemingly forbidden artifact and carefully unfolded it. A message was written in pencil across the page, it read:
YOU DON¡¯T BELONG HERE. I DON¡¯T KNOW HOW BUT I WILL GET US OUT
Sheila sat staring at the note for a moment, trying to process what it could mean. Who wrote it? Get out of where? Who is ¡°us¡±? Was the note even intended for her? Was she being held here against her will? No. This place had been so comfortable, so welcoming that she had never really considered leaving it. It had been a long time since she entertained such an idea. Thinking about the possibility she was some sort of captive gave her a deep sense of dread and disgust and was one of the first emotional control victories she had experienced during her early mental fortitude training sessions. She easily recalled her emotional control expertise once again to level herself out so she could analyze this situation.
¡°Maybe I should tell a masker about this,¡± Sheila thought to herself. ¡°But if this note is legitimate and is meant for me then the maskers must be the ones keeping us here. Whoever ¡°us¡± is.¡±
The only person Sheila had any contact with that wasn¡¯t a masker was Henry.
¡°This must be Henry¡¯s doing. It¡¯s probably a prank actually.¡± Sheila felt herself relax at that thought. Besides, she liked it here. The maskers were always so kind and accommodating, she enjoyed her learning sessions, she had plenty of time for recreation, and she regularly enjoyed the company of her first and only true friend, Henry. Plus, Henry obviously liked it here too. There was never any talk between them about ¡°getting out¡± or even doing anything that wasn¡¯t there in the infinitely enjoyable recreation room. Still, it was odd and shocking.
¡°I bet this is a test. Just like my holographic mother,¡± Sheila thought. ¡°They¡¯re trying to see if I can remain in control when confronted with something odd and shocking. Well, I¡¯m not gonna play along this time. I bet I¡¯m ¡®supposed to¡¯ run to a masker and confess what I¡¯ve found and then I¡¯ll be praised and rewarded.¡±
The potential praise and adulation from her masker teachers was extremely appealing to Sheila however and she was nearly compelled to get up straight away and go tell the nearest masker she could find. But recently Sheila had been practicing applying her mental fortitude techniques to positive emotions as well. The thought had occurred to her one day when she and Henry were sarcastically teasing each other and she couldn¡¯t keep a straight face when trying to pretend that she disliked a movie or book that Henry was gushing over. So she leveled herself out once again, closed the case, and went to find Henry to ask him about it but he wasn¡¯t in the mess area.
¡°Focus on your breathing. Find your center. Your thoughts do not control you,¡± Sheila whispered to herself as she crouched in front of the TV holding the open movie case for 50 First Dates. Earlier that day Henry had insisted that she watch it despite her protests on the grounds that sappy love stories never really interested her. They seemed so unrealistic. Besides, Henry wasn¡¯t even able to watch it with her. He couldn¡¯t say why, just that he really had to do something important but he wanted nothing more than to hear what Sheila thought about the movie, even to the point of making her promise him that she would watch it. And there in the case was the reason, another folded sheet of paper. It had been some time since she found the last one and she had all but convinced herself that it was a test from the maskers after Henry seemed genuinely oblivious, even claiming that he hadn¡¯t seen a physical piece of paper in his entire life. Sheila popped in the movie and it began to play as she secretively unfolded the note.
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STAY CALM. FOLLOW THE OPEN DOORS. I WILL WAKE YOU UP.
Wake up? The thought of sleep hadn¡¯t crossed Sheila¡¯s mind since¡ever. In fact, Sheila couldn¡¯t remember the last time she saw a bed. There must be one in her room, she thought. But as she tried to picture it and, no, there was just¡the room. Sometimes there was a desk she used for her studies, sometimes there wasn¡¯t, there was always the silently sliding door, and the strange ever-changing walls, but never a bed. Curious.
Sheila¡¯s thoughts then turned from sleep to other mundane, routine tasks that she performed back at home, before she arrived here. She did eat here, occasionally, though she never actually felt hungry. Eating was always a social event, an excuse to hang out with Henry, but never was done out of necessity. She also never went to the bathroom. She never brushed her teeth or her hair, never had to clean her room. As she revisited her memories she couldn¡¯t even remember a single occurrence of discomfort, boredom, or pain that lasted more than a few seconds. She tried to remember something more recent. Her mind told her that she must have woken up this morning, had breakfast, used the bathroom, then walked here to the rec room. She intuitively knew she had done these things this morning, it was a matter of fact. But when she really tried to piece together her day, step-by-step, she couldn¡¯t.
Sheila¡¯s mind began to whirl. What was happening to her that she couldn¡¯t remember walking from her room to this room just moments before? Or was it hours before? Was she last here yesterday or was it last week? What was ¡°yesterday¡± if she couldn¡¯t remember going to sleep and waking up?
Something was wrong. Something was wrong with Sheila¡¯s mind. ¡°I must be crazy. I must be in an insane asylum, or a coma. Do I have amnesia?¡± She thought. She slammed the movie case closed and wildly spun around and stood up. She had to find Henry. Somehow he was connected to all of this, he knew what was going on. She frantically headed to the rec room calling for him, ¡°HENRY? HENRY!¡±
Sheila blearily opened her eyes. She was lying on her back in a bed. The room was dark except for a soft yellow glow that emanated from an open doorway across the drab concrete floor. Sheila sat up and immediately noticed that this wasn¡¯t her room. This one was much smaller and the walls were plain. In fact there was nothing in this room except for the bed, which was firm and had no sheets or blankets. As she swung her legs over the bed she felt an odd sensation in her mouth: she was thirsty. Sheila couldn¡¯t remember the last time she was thirsty and as she tried to think about where to find water, a headache progressively intensified behind her eyes.
STAY CALM. FOLLOW THE OPEN DOORS. I WILL WAKE YOU UP.
The memory of the note Sheila found flashed into her consciousness. The door to her room opened into what looked like a dark hallway. She took a deep breath and calmed her emotions, although she mostly felt groggy, confused, and curious. She stood up out of her bed and walked out of the room. The hallway stretched far in either direction until eventually curving away, breaking the line of sight. It was lined with closed doors, each displaying a number and every 10th door or so, a light fixture illuminated the corridor just enough for Sheila to see her way through the otherwise dark hallway.
Sheila turned right out of her room and walked. The doors that lined the hallway gave no indication of their contents and Sheila wondered what the numbers meant. As her bare feet pattered on the cold hard floor, carrying her further down the seemingly endless corridor, she eventually saw a new source of light spilling into the hallway from the left side. An open door. Excitedly Sheila picked up her pace and made her way to it. Peering in, Sheila found a wide rectangular room with more doors lining it. In this room the floor was carpeted and the walls were colored a warm reddish brown. Artwork hung between the doors and toward one end was a sitting area with a couch, chairs, and cabinets that housed books, lamps, and a houseplant as well as a long table with several chairs arranged on one side so they faced the middle of the room. The doors off of this room weren¡¯t numbered like in the hallway behind her but instead were marked with strange characters that Sheila couldn¡¯t make out. As she stepped into the room, the walls changed from their solid singular color into one of the familiar yet ever unique landscape scenes from her usual room. The couches, cabinets, paintings, and lamps vanished in an instant. All of the doors that were once visible were now gone as well except for the usual single door on the wall Sheila was facing. If Sheila hadn¡¯t just seen the room as it was seconds before, there would be no way she could distinguish this room from her own familiar room where she¡¯d been living these past months. Or was it years by now?
The door in front of her sat open. Sheila half expected a masker to enter and ask her about an emotionally fraught hypothetical situation, but none did. After standing there with her breath held for what felt like minutes, Sheila walked toward the opening. Making her way toward the door with the intention to walk through it was utterly peculiar. She couldn¡¯t remember ever walking through the door out of her room.
¡°Deep breaths, keep calm. This is probably a dream,¡± Sheila whispered to herself. But this was definitely not a dream. This was more real than any experience she could remember since she¡¯d arrived here.
On the other side of the door was yet another room. It was expansive and mostly dark except for the wall to Sheila¡¯s right, the entirety of which was made up of screens which cast a harsh white glow bright enough to illuminate the row of desks that sat facing it. The desks had on them what Sheila guessed were computers, except instead of the usual plastic and glass that made up a computer monitor in Sheila¡¯s memory, these were two panes of extremely thin transparent glass. Also atop the desks were physical books, files, and papers. But Sheila only peered across the room for an instant before being captivated by what was displayed on the countless screens on the wall. Each one portrayed a room that looked like the one Sheila woke up in just a few minutes before. Small, drab, a single bed and nothing else, and a person. Every one of whom was asleep on the bed in the same position, face up with their hands crossed and resting on their chest.
Sheila walked up to the wall of screens to get a better look and analyzed one at random. Beneath the video feed of the room with a sleeping man was some information: ¡°488 - Flavius Romulus Augustus - SCI: 0¡±. She looked at the screen next to it which displayed the expected scene of a tiny room with a person sleeping: ¡°1962 - Fyodor Jonins - SCI: 0¡±. After inspecting several more screens only to find the same unhelpful information displayed upon them, Sheila walked over to one of the desks in the center of the room. As she rounded the desk, the wall of screens caught her eye once more. There were several larger screens grouped together among the rest and Sheila instantly recognized what they displayed, it was the rec room from various angles. The areas that were often occupied by the other residents: the soccer field, the mess, the gaming corner, sat empty and still. However, in the TV area Sheila saw movement. Abandoning her exploration of the desk, she walked closer to the wall of screens to get a better look. The screen showed that the camera was angled so as to view the plush chairs of the seating area but not the TV itself and there in plain view, looking directly at the camera, seemingly straight into Sheila¡¯s eyes, was Henry. He was holding up a sign with a crudely written message on it, it read
SAY OUT LOUD ¡°SECTOR 35E LIGHTS DIM¡±
Henry looked anxious and was taking deep breaths, no doubt in an attempt to calm himself. He was repeatedly looking over his shoulder to what Sheila now noticed was a man sleeping in one of the plush TV chairs, the seat next to him was littered with wine bottles and food wrappers.
¡°Sector 35E, lights dim,¡± Sheila pronounced. The lighting in the TV area darkened and Henry looked relieved as he excitedly put the sign down. He stepped closer to where the camera must have been located until Sheila could only see the top of his head.
¡°Sheila! Is that you? It worked!¡± Came an excited whisper from the wall of screens. ¡°I can¡¯t hear you but listen up, there¡¯s not much time. I¡¯ve been learning more and more about this place we¡¯re in. It¡¯s some kind of¡space prison. We¡¯re being held captive here but I don¡¯t know why. They, the maskers, can control our minds. They have a device, like a remote control, that allows them to manipulate our emotions, erase our memories, make sure we¡¯re always content with our current situation and never want to leave.¡±
Sheila simultaneously couldn¡¯t believe what she was hearing and knew that it was true. Too many things didn¡¯t add up about this place. Why didn¡¯t she ever remember something as simple as walking from one room to another, or going to the bathroom? Why is she so content and happy here despite having been abducted from her family and subjected to continual emotional stress testing? They were controlling her mind, making her do whatever they wanted and she was perfectly happy going along with it all. A deep smoldering anger kindled in her belly. The natural trust of the maskers she¡¯d developed throughout her time here was misplaced. They didn¡¯t love and respect her, they were her captors, they were experimenting on her.
A groan sounded from the wall of screens and Sheila saw the sleeping man behind Henry stir. Only now she noticed that he wasn¡¯t an ordinary man, this person was too tall and slender and his eyes, despite being closed, were extremely large. Additionally, he had no nose, no hair, no lips, though there was a line where one would expect a mouth to be. Stirring awake in his chair, after presumably passing out from too much wine, was a masker.
¡°As long as we¡¯re dumb and happy,¡± Henry continued hurriedly, ¡°they keep us alive, but if we¡¯re not, they execute us. Sheila I¡I think¡Listen, I have to go but tell the computer to ¡®list the highest SCI scores¡¯ and then go back to bed immediately! I¡¯m going to get us out of here. In the meantime keep calm and act normally. I love you.¡±
On the screen, Sheila saw Henry hurriedly fall into a chair next to the masker and pretend to be asleep. The masker opened his giant eyes revealing no defining features such as pupils but rather a solid, deep black. He sat up and looked at Henry then looked directly at the camera. Sheila started, it looked as though the masker was peering through the screen directly at her. Sheila¡¯s face flushed hot and sweat formed across her forehead as she quickly ducked away from the screen.
Sheila, crouched in front of the wall of screens, took a deep breath. ¡°He probably can¡¯t see you, relax. Get back to the cell.¡± Sheila said to herself and hurried to the door from where she came. Just before crossing the threshold she stopped, remembering what Henry told her. She turned back.
¡°List the highest SCI scores,¡± she announced in a shaky voice.
The wall of screens resolved into a single display that showed an immeasurably long list of text. It was a list of the data that was displayed under each screen, a number, a name, and an SCI score. Next to each entry in bold red letters was the word TERMINATED.
Sheila could glean nothing from the data except that everyone on it had an SCI score that was significantly higher than zero, whatever that meant, and everyone on it was dead. Looking up the list to the top of the wall, Sheila could see that the first entry on the list was too high up to be read but instead of bold red letters where the rest of the entries showed TERMINATED, this entry had bold green letters.
¡°Show the highest SCI score,¡± Sheila commanded.
The list scrolled so the first entry was now in the middle of the screen, low enough so Sheila could read it.
2020 - Sheila Goddard - SCI: 6,943,432,927 DETAINED
Sheila hurried out of the surveillance room and found her way back to her firm, sheet-less bed where she laid down and felt an immediate overwhelming exhaustion come over her.
Chapter 4
Sheila found herself in the rec area and her thoughts, as they always did when she was here, went to Henry. She had a strong compulsion to find him, as she always did, but this time was different. Something was wrong and urgent. As she tried to recall what it was she remembered a dream she had. Doors. Rooms. Names. It was hard to piece it together, as dreams always were, but it was significant and its impact was resonating into her waking life. It was an odd feeling; she hadn¡¯t thought about her dreams much in a long time. Apparently she¡¯d been sleeping deeply recently. But last night¡No, the dream wasn¡¯t from last night. It was an old dream. She dreamt it¡When did she dream it? When did she sleep last? Where did she sleep? How did she get here?
A wave of dreaded realization flooded Sheila starting at her head and cresting at her heart and lungs before splashing into numb tingles down her legs into her feet. What she remembered was no dream.
Sheila breathed deeply and tried to settle her emotions. It worked. She was able to replace her dismay with determined focus. She had to get out of this place and Henry was her only way. How long ago was that night? How many memories since had been erased by these monsters? At least they hadn¡¯t erased her memory of the night, and here she was safely in the rec room, so it was likely that her secret galavant was still in fact secret.
¡°Is everything all right Sheila?¡± Asked a masker tenderly who was standing just behind her. Had she¡it been there the whole time?
¡°Oh, yes of course!¡± Sheila replied cheerily. ¡°I was just thinking of our lesson earlier.¡± Sheila flashed a bright eyed wide smile at the masker. ¡°Now, where is Hen-hen?¡± Sheila had never called Henry, or anyone, by that name and worried she¡¯d given herself away.
The masker stood staring for a half-second too long, its blank metallic face revealing nothing. ¡°Have fun dear,¡± finally came the response.
Sheila skipped off toward the soccer field and shouted ¡°Thanks¡± over her shoulder. The soccer field was occupied on one half by a contingent of about 6 other people who were playing some form of game that apparently didn¡¯t require the whole field. A quick scan of the rec room revealed that Henry wasn¡¯t in his usual places. Sheila gave a more concerted effort, looking closely at each human in the room, none of which paid her any attention, just as she had never done. They all seemed so happy, blissfully passing the time doing whatever the maskers made them think was a good idea. Sheila couldn¡¯t help but allow a sneer to form on her face but only for a moment. Then she remembered the notes in the movie cases. Perhaps Henry left her another one.
The Harry Potter movie cases contained nothing but their respective discs, as did 50 First Dates. Sheila checked Memento, Shawshank Redemption, and several others that Henry had mentioned to her in their numerous conversations. Sheila longingly remembered their times together. Their conversations of no consequence, of laughter and teasing, of silly ideas. To be back on the soccer field, lying next to each other in the grass, unaware that they were¡here.
¡°Looks like my excellent taste in movies is finally rubbing off on you. You¡¯ve pretty much got an all-time top-ten list there,¡± came the familiar voice of Sheila¡¯s friend. Just as the dread had coursed through her body moments before, warm, soothing relief unfolded from her ears down into her heart.
Sheila jumped to her feet and wrapped her arms around Henry, squeezing with all her might.
¡°Keep calm, keep calm,¡± Henry whispered. ¡°They monitor our emotional state, intervene when we get worked up.¡±
¡°I thought I might never see you again,¡± Sheila said almost inaudibly into Henry¡¯s ear as tears welled up in her eyes. ¡°Something seems off, I think the maskers might be suspicious. How long has it been since¡¡±
¡°I don¡¯t know but I suspect the same thing. I think it¡¯s been a while. And I haven¡¯t seen my masker friend who I used to watch movies with since,¡± Henry whispered back. ¡°Let¡¯s watch a movie!¡± Henry announced cheerfully as he pulled away from their embrace.
Henry sat down in front of the cabinet of movies below the TV and motioned for Sheila to join him. He pulled a movie out and started reading the synopsis on the back of the case. He quickly put it down on the floor and grabbed another one. Sheila noticed that he wasn¡¯t looking at the case at all but was looking at the movies in the cabinet. He then reached for the cabinet once more but this time reached through the space he¡¯d just made and grabbed something from behind the row of movies. He pulled his arm back revealing a stack of paper scraps and a felt pen. He immediately began scribbling on one.
THEY CAN¡¯T SEE US HERE.
Sure enough, Sheila remembered noticing the angle of the camera when she was in the surveillance room. Henry was hurriedly scribbling more.
I CAN GET US OUT. PLAN IS IN CHICKEN RUN.
Sheila thought it was a little on the nose but was excited and happy to know that Henry was serious about escaping. He was serious about her. And he knew how to do it.
¡°Tell me you¡¯ve seen the Michael Keaton Batman movies! They¡¯re too good to miss,¡± Henry said aloud. A diversion no doubt.
¡°Umm, is that the one with Arnold Schwarzenegger as the villain?¡± Sheila played along as she grabbed a scrap of paper and the pen from Henry.
WHEN?
¡°That¡¯s one of them, yeah, but there are three! You¡¯re in for a treat, young lady!¡± Henry said as he scratched his missive.
NOT SURE. SOON. READ PLAN. BE READY. STAY CALM.
Henry looked deep and earnestly into Sheila¡¯s eyes. Sheila gave a single nod in reply. Henry then put the paper and pen back behind the movies and put a disc into the player before making his way to his usual chair in front of the TV.
They couldn¡¯t reveal any indication of their plot, not even through their emotions. Fortunately for the two of them, they had received countless hours of emotional control training.
As the movie ended, Henry asked Sheila to put in the second in the series. She replaced the disc and then looked back at Henry who gave her a nod and looked toward the left side of the movie cabinet.
¡°I don¡¯t see the Schwarzenegger one here, maybe someone put it back in the wrong place, I¡¯m gonna look for it,¡± said Sheila loudly.
Chicken Run was near the end of the cabinet, placed among some movies that Sheila had never heard of and looked very 70s. She opened the case to find it was practically overflowing with papers. In reality, Sheila quickly realized, it was only a few documents, but they were full-sized sheets of paper, not the scraps they¡¯d been using previously. The first sheet was an official looking memo that displayed a diagram and descriptive text with numbered instructions. Though the text wasn¡¯t in English, or any Earth language probably, the diagram clearly illustrated what looked to Sheila like a teleportation machine. It showed a platform, upon which there was a person standing in the middle of a circle, a terminal with a pad of keys was fixed to the outside of the platform. The numbered list was short and had closer, detailed illustrations for each step. It appeared as though one simply stood on the platform, entered where they wanted to go in the terminal, and pressed the big red button. Easy.
The next document was a densely formatted grid of letters, symbols, and numbers. About a third of the way down the document someone had circled some of the text. It read ¡°Earth: 7483720730¡±.
The third and final document was a map. It revealed a huge grid of rooms of various shapes and sizes. Toward the bottom of the map was a large circular array of tiny rectangles. The cells. In pen, a line was drawn from one of the tiny rooms, down the corridor, and through 3 different rooms where it ended in with an X. Sheila spent a moment memorizing the information. Earth¡¯s code would be the most difficult, followed by the escape route. Working the teleportation machine appeared to be intuitive enough not to give Sheila worry.
As she tried to memorize the information as quickly as possible, Sheila turned the documents over so she could quiz herself. The teleportation machine diagram was on the bottom and thus revealed its backside when the pile turned over. Sheila saw another illustrated diagram. This one showed a cube that had a display and a key pad on one side. The cube was shown being held in a hand, revealing its relatively small size. Again there were numbered instructions with detailed illustrations for each step. First, it looked like you were supposed to point one end at a person. The next step showed the keypad in detail, next to which was another list. Numbered codes with indecipherable text next to them. The third and final step contained an illustration of a person with waves radiating from their head. This was the mind control device.
¡°AHEM-HEM-HEM! SHEILA!¡± Henry shouted, startling her. Sheila abruptly turned around to find a masker standing over her looking down.
¡°What the fuck is that?¡± It asked gruffly. The masker then pulled a small cube from its body suit. With a sudden jerk, the masker was lurching toward the TV which sent the cube flying out of its hand. Henry was standing where the masker had been with his hand outstretched.
¡°I said it would be soon, didn''t I?¡± Henry quipped with a familiar smirk. Astonished, Sheila grabbed Henry¡¯s hand and hopped to her feet.
She quickly turned back to pick up the documents and smoothly snatched the cube where it had rolled on the floor next to her. ¡°We¡¯re gonna need these,¡± Sheila said, and then they were running.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
As Sheila and Henry sprinted, hand-in-hand, away from the TV area toward the soccer field, the group of people who were playing there all immediately fell limp to the ground. Then the features of the floor, the walls, and the ceiling all dissolved away and were replaced by a tumult of vivid, moving colors. It was impossible to discern between the floor, wall, and ceiling; and thus Sheila lost her footing. So determined not to lose her grip on the mind-control cube and documents, she let go of Henry¡¯s hand instead and used it to support herself in the fall. She hurriedly stood back up ready to continue running but as she looked up she saw that Henry too had fallen, except he wasn¡¯t getting back up. Sheila reached down and grabbed his arm to help him to his feet. As soon as she touched him, he startled awake but was clearly in a state of confusion.
¡°Get up Henry! We have to get out of here!¡± cried Sheila.
¡°Huh? Where are we? Weren¡¯t we just watching a mov¡¡± Henry trailed off as a look of sudden realization dawned on his face. ¡°Is it the day? I don¡¯t remember finishing everything.¡±
¡°It¡¯s the day whether you¡¯re ready or not, now get up!¡± Sheila exclaimed as she yanked Henry to his feet and they continued running into the formless swirl of colors and shapes.
¡°Do you know how to get out of here?¡± Sheila asked between heavy breaths.
¡°The far side of the soccer field. Directly behind the goal is a door that leads to the surveillance rooms or whatever they are,¡± Henry replied, similarly out of breath.
¡°That¡¯s not particularly helpful now that the soccer field decided to go psychedelic,¡± yelled Sheila.
Just then, a solid square of light appeared to the duo¡¯s left and 3 maskers hurriedly entered the color-swirling room and headed directly toward Sheila and Henry. One was holding out a mind-control cube in their direction while frantically pressing buttons on it but almost immediately gave up and slipped it into a pocket.
With nowhere to run, Sheila and Henry stopped and faced the approaching group.
¡°That¡¯s it, easy. There¡¯s nowhere to run. We are not going to harm you. Please give us the cube you¡¯re holding and we¡¯ll all just go back to our happy little lives,¡± said the masker in the middle, now approaching with more caution.
Henry turned to Sheila and they looked into each other¡¯s eyes. Henry¡¯s face showed the same deep seriousness as that day on the soccer field when he told her he would do anything for her, and he moved his face closer to hers. Sheila felt a lump in her throat, butterflies in her stomach, and her face somehow felt simultaneously hot and cold. She closed her eyes.
¡°Run. Get out. Go home.¡± Henry whispered. His warm breath on Sheila¡¯s ear was intoxicating. She wanted nothing but to spend eternity with him. It didn¡¯t matter where, or under which circumstances. They could be prisoners in the darkest dungeons of Azkaban, as long as they were together. ¡°When I wake up, tell me to reach for the pocket and grab the cube.¡±
¡°No I don¡¯t want to leave you¡¡± Sheila began to say but as the words were leaving her mouth Henry was already in motion. He leapt forward with force, still keeping contact with Sheila¡¯s hand until he was already airborne, hurling his body toward the group of maskers. As soon as Henry¡¯s hand left Sheila¡¯s, his body went completely limp, however his momentum carried him with full force directly into the masker on the left, crashing into him with a thud, they both fell in a heap to the ground. Everyone froze, startled at the unexpected tackle. On top of the masker on the ground, Henry snapped up his previously limp head and looked around with a confused look on his face.
¡°Henr¡the pocket! Go for the pocket!¡± shouted Sheila. ¡°Grab the cube!¡± The other two maskers suddenly moved to help their fallen comrade and Sheila took her opportunity to run toward the doorway from where they came. She could hear the struggle occurring behind her as she sprinted, including a loud, painful groan that was cut short by a sharp crack. Sheila allowed herself a glance back and saw that Henry was up on his feet in a fight with two maskers, the third lying still on the floor beside them.
Finally Sheila made it through the doorway and found herself in a much more comprehensible room. Seeing no-one around, she slowed her sprint to a fast walk and pulled out the map. She took an educated guess as to where her current location was and committed to memory the route to what was hopefully the way out of this prison.
Having passed down a long corridor and a few rooms furnished with desks, and computer screens. Sheila found her destination. The platform from the diagram. She hurriedly pulled up the paper that contained what was apparently the code for Earth and began typing in the code on the keypad. But when it came time to enter the final number, she hesitated, her finger hovering shakily over the 0 key. Her mind was fixated on Henry. She couldn¡¯t leave him here, could she? It was his idea to distract the maskers so she could escape. Henry would want her to go. But why live a life on Earth without him? Could she ever feel fulfilled? Could she love someone again?
¡°I guess I could make anyone love me with this mind-control cube,¡± she thought incredulously. Sheila closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm her emotions. And, standing on the platform, pressed the 0 key.
But nothing happened. A small display above the keypad showed the numbers Sheila had entered and she double-checked them against the papers. The code was correct. Could the paper be wrong? There was no way to know what the paper with the Earth code was even referring to. It could be something entirely unrelated to this teleportation platform, if that was what this machine even was. Sheila felt a simultaneous wave of dread and embarrassment and crumpled to her knees in dismay. It was all for nothing. She could have lived her whole life here in happiness with Henry by her side. A life without suffering, every need met. The world¡¯s entire library of knowledge and entertainment at her fingertips. And she threw it all away. The bold red text ¡°TERMINATED¡± flashed in her mind. Sheila wept.
Barely holding on to the mind-control cube and with the alien documents strewn on the floor around her, Sheila suddenly remembered something. There was a final step to the teleportation process. The big red button! Sheila jumped up and inspected the keypad again, but there was no red button, just keys with numbers and symbols and a display that still showed the code for Earth. Scanning the room, she quickly saw it. Next to the door on the other side of the room, a red button under a glass cover. The teleporter required two people to operate it. Sheila immediately started looking for objects to throw to press the button but also needed to break its glass cover. As soon as she stepped off the platform toward the button, the door slid open with a hiss. It was Henry! And someone else? A masker followed closely behind as they both entered the room.
Henry was standing slightly in front of the masker and was wearing handcuffs. His face was bloody and bruised and his clothes¡Sheila had never really noticed his clothes before¡were in tatters. The masker behind him also looked battered and bruised but was in obvious control of the situation as he had in his hands what Sheila could only surmise to be a weapon of some sort. And yet, Henry somehow looked relieved; and with his broad smile revealing a missing tooth he said, ¡°I thought I¡¯d never see you again.¡±
It was the most beautiful thing Sheila had ever seen.
¡°Sheila, you have to listen to me. You have to stay. We can stay here and be happy together. It¡¯s not what you think, I was wrong.¡± said Henry. ¡°There¡¯s something I have to tell you that¡¯s going to be hard to hear but you need to know.¡±
Sheila¡¯s eyes shifted from Henry to the masker and then to the red button.
¡°We¡¯re here for a reason. These people, ¡°the maskers¡±, they watch over Earth. They protect it. They protect us.¡±
The masker eased its posture, looked at Sheila and nodded.
¡°We have technology,¡± said the masker, who Sheila recognized as the tender, motherly masker that taught her every day for what seemed like years. ¡°Advanced technology that can simulate the future on Earth. We simulate all possible futures and assign a percentage of probability to each. If there¡¯s a high likelihood that something will lead to the extinction of the human race, we intervene.¡±
¡°So I¡destroy the human race? That seems impossible.¡± Sheila replied shakily.
¡°They assign a number,¡± Henry said. ¡°They call it an SCI number. It represents the number of lives you¡¯re responsible for destroying. Yours¡yours is the highest they¡¯ve ever seen.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t believe it. I could never¡¡± Sheila said softly. How could someone as meek and socially inept as her cause so much death? ¡°So it must be an accident that I cause, or a butterfly effect thing, right? I make someone late and 20 years later that results in them becoming the next Hitler.¡±
¡°The simulations are accurate and take into account the complex interactions of each human life, including what effect our actions will have on the future, but we do not attempt to find root causes or alter unrelated aspects of a world. It is much more prudent to, when possible, simply remove the person who performs the act. In your case, there was a 99% chance you would be responsible for billions of deaths.¡± Said the masker in a tone as if she and Sheila were back in a study session discussing Dostoevsky or Planck.
¡°So I do it. I perform the act.¡± Sheila said as she looked down at the floor, still in disbelief.
¡°It¡¯s okay Sheila,¡± said Henry. ¡°I¡¯m here for the same reason, everyone is. They take us and they rehabilitate us. They turn us into good people while allowing us to live without suffering."
¡°Against our will,¡± said Sheila meagerly. She was still processing all of this. It must be true. Or it was at least as good of a reason as any to abduct someone from their home and put them in a space prison. And Sheila¡¯s number. The highest ever. With a 99% probability. The memory of the monitors in the surveillance room showing her name at the top of the list with an SCI score of a zillion. But suddenly something else flashed in Sheila¡¯s memory.
TERMINATED
Everyone else on the list was dead. And the SCI score on every other bedroom she saw that night was zero.
¡°You say you bring us here to rehabilitate us. I¡¯ve been here a while, why is my number still so high?¡± asked Sheila defiantly. The masker took a few steps forward.
¡°Rehabilitation takes time,¡± she said.
¡°Henry, how can you know they won¡¯t hurt us?¡± Sheila exclaimed beseechingly. ¡°How can you know they haven¡¯t already and simply erased our memory of it? Who knows what they¡¯ve done to us. They¡¯re probably lying about everything!¡±
Sheila¡¯s voice rose in volume and intensity and an almost forgotten feeling welled in her chest. A deep resentment toward those who mistreated her, those who lied to her, those who didn¡¯t care about her, and out of the long-dormant resentment arose an overwhelming desire for retribution, respect, control.
¡°Although if a case proves impossible to rehab,¡± continued the masker, ¡°there are alternative options.¡± The instant she finished her sentence, the masker raised her weapon and fired. There was a bright flash but the shot didn¡¯t make much noise. Sheila felt as the world went into slow motion. A thought ran through her head, ¡°it¡¯s curious that with all the technology to this alien species, they can make their guns quiet but they can¡¯t make a gun that doesn¡¯t make a bright flash.¡± A warm sensation steadily grew in her upper right chest. When Sheila looked down she noticed she was bleeding. She also noticed she was falling backward to the floor. Sheila landed with a numb thud on the teleporter platform.
¡°NNNOOOOOO!¡± shouted Henry, and he threw himself onto the masker.
Sheila could hear the sounds of struggle but didn¡¯t have the strength to lift her head. She could just make out the red button across the room, so close yet utterly out of reach. She then saw a bright flash, followed by two more. The room was silent for a moment. Then Henry groaned. It was like music to Sheila¡¯s ears. A moment later a hand appeared, reaching up from the floor. It was two hands, handcuffed. But they were across the room. Sheila wanted so bad for those hands, for Henry, to be there next to her, reaching for her. She longed to be with him again, lying on the grass of the soccer field, watching movies and eating junk food for hours on end, feeling his warm breath on her ear. Instead, Henry¡¯s bloodied, handcuffed hands were reaching up from what might as well have been the other side of the galaxy. The hands lifted the glass cover, and collapsed onto the red button.
The only person Sheila ever loved, the only person who ever loved Sheila, was dead. This wasn¡¯t right. This wasn¡¯t fair. Sheila was ripped from her home against her will, was brainwashed and mind-controlled, then had the only person she cared for murdered, all because a computer simulation said there was a chance that she would destroy the world.
The room began to look fuzzy. White light beamed around Sheila from above and below. She was going back to Earth. Back to all of the people that never loved her no matter how hard she tried. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the mind-control cube, her face a determined shadow of crimson rage. Then she teleported away.