Chapter 5
She woke up to another day, gazing into the mirror, confused at what she saw.
Is that me?
Elaine examined her hair, her eyes, her shoulders, her breasts. She never liked to pause in front of the mirror while she was in the nude, but something today made her pause, made her look at what her eyes always avoided.
“The absence of memory does strange things to a person,” she could remember Todd telling her, on one of her first days in the prison. “Your mind builds up imaginary conspiracies to explain the loss. It’s the Manipulator suppressing your memories. Your mind can’t help but try to fight it, and in waging that battle, it turns the Manipulator into an enemy.”
Some mornings she would consciously fight this unseen adversary, this machine, this computer that kept a part of herself hidden. This morning, she closed her eyes and concentrated. She sought to . . . remember, her first kiss. Her first heartache. The first time she killed—
What?
And this would happen, every time she did. While she couldn’t remember her childhood, her maturation into an adult, she expected, probably naively so, that what lay hidden was something normal and acceptable, that she wouldn’t be a counselor if her past was filled with all manner of trauma. But there it was, every time she fought against the Manipulator. An errant thought, an unexpected question.
“You need to focus, on yourself, when you grow confused,” Todd had told her. “You need to stand in front of the mirror, and reaffirm your identity. State your name, believe in yourself, and the doubt and anxiety will fade.”
She did just that, focusing on her image in the mirror. Her skin was smooth, all of uniform shade and hue, except for underneath her right elbow. It was darker, the skin a little rougher, a few cuts in front of the bend. How did I get those? She tried to think back, but couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t remember. I . . . I am Elaine? She nodded to herself. I am Elaine. I am Elaine. I may not know my past, but this is who I am. I am a doctor, named Elaine. She straightened up, lifting her chin high. On the sink was a bottle filled with yellow pills. She opened it, and took one, with a small glass of water. Wonder what we’d do without the stims. Sure couldn’t make it through a day without ‘em. She glanced at a clock on the wall. Damn am I late!
She hurriedly dressed, and moved quickly past the checkpoints that separated the doctor’s quarters from the main prison. There were three detectors, each one attuned to search for different materials. She usually flew by them, but today, Colin was on duty.
His face was like some organic form of camouflage that now would enable him to hide behind blue flowers. His left eye was still terribly swollen, and his right arm was in a thick cast. But his mouth was fine, and that was turned into a wide, maniacal grin.
“Hello Lainey, why, it’s good to see you this morning!”
“Hello Colin. Are you feeling any better?” Though in truth she couldn’t care less, as she felt he got what he deserved.
“Oh a little, a little,” he said distantly. “Now come on, step on through the machine.”
She stepped through, and as she passed under the plastic hood, she saw Colin reach out his hand. The machine went off, sounding a small alarm.
“Oh my! Are you bringing contraband in again, Lainey?”
“Come on, this isn’t funny! Just do your damned job.”
“I am, Lainey, I am.” He was full of mock regret. “Well, try again—maybe it was just an error on the part of the machine.”
She stepped through again, and he also held out his hand, setting off the machine.
“Again?! Why this is serious Lainey.”
“What’s in your hand?!”
“Nothing!” He opened his hand, and indeed, it was empty. “Well, sure would be a shame if I had to order a strip search.”
She cursed him under her breath. On the one hand, she couldn’t survive in the prison without the guards, who often did quell the tougher inmates. On the other hand, most times she felt the guards were little better than the prisoners. Every day she thanked Holis they weren’t allowed to carry guns, for many more would surely have died.
“What do you want?” Her voice was soft and sweet, but her eyes were made of molten lead.
“Me? Hmmm . . . I don’t know. Maybe you could suggest some things, and if I like them, I’ll let you go. How’s that?”
“What do you want, money?”
Colin paused, wrinkling his nose. “No, not this time.”
“Food?”
He shook his head in the negative.
“What the fuck do you want!” she yelled, and Colin immediately tried to silence her.
“Fine, Lainey,” he grumbled, the silly grin vanishing in an instant. “Well, you have Ronald in your group today, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, Ronald walked in on something he shouldn’t have.”
Gossip got around quick, especially about one of the guards. “You and Luke?”
Colin gritted his teeth. “Yeah, well, he needs to remember who’s got the big black stick. You need to turn your head after the group’s done, as I hold back Ronald. Just keep on going. You understand?”
Ronald wasn’t one Elaine knew too much about. He was one of the few whose crime she didn’t know. All the same, he was usually polite to her in the halls, and when she had to walk past the lines of cell doors, and the other prisoners leered and catcalled at her, he respected her, nodding his head as she passed by.
“What if he gets the best of you? You’ve already been beaten up once.”
“That faggot fool? What is he, sixty? Always so fuckin’ quiet. No, he’s goin’ down, and goin’ down easy. You understand?”
“Fine.”
Colin stepped back, and grudgingly allowed Elaine to pass through.
All through the group, Elaine was trying to figure out a way to warn Ronald. It was difficult, as Colin stood directly behind him, his narrow cruel eyes boring down on his head. It was a group with several new members, and most of the session was spent getting acquainted.
“So, Mark, we’re coming up on the holidays. Is there something you liked to do at this time of year?”
He shrugged. A man in his late forties, she quickly learned Mark didn’t say much, and mostly kept to himself, like most of the prisoners in her group. To share of oneself meant to acknowledge there was life before the prison—a life they would never go back to. But it was her job to provide an emotional balance, and integrating some of their past lives into the present was one of the best ways. Which was ironic, seeing as she had no past life to draw upon.
“Did you ever join in any chants, or put up any decorations where you lived?”
“I sung, a little,” he mumbled in a low, gravelly voice. “A few of us might get some booze and sit in the park, drinkin’ and singin’.”
“Well, we could do that here, without the liquor. Who else would like to join in a chant?”
A few of the others raised their hands—enough for a majority.
“Well that’s great!” cried Elaine with forced enthusiasm. “Let me cue up one of the melodies, and we can sing along.”
She turned to a small synthesizer she kept in her office, and slowly pulled up a few melodies, wracking her brain as to how to warn Ronald. She had less than twenty minutes to do it.
“Alright,” she said, turning back, “let’s break up into two groups. Mark; you, James and Matthew sit over there, and take the lower register. Ronald; you and Thomas come over here, and we’ll take the upper, as I can’t sing as low as you men can.”
They broke up into the two groups, and Colin folded his arms and stood in a nearby corner. Elaine turned on the synthesizer, and soon a metronome beat out a slow pace.
“Let me print out some lyrics.” She went on her computer, which drew Colin’s eyes. She had debated inserting a message in the lyrics, but he afforded her no privacy. The sheets spewed out of the printer, and she handed them to the two groups. “Are you
ready? Alright, here it goes!”
“Sing of the day that Holis smiled on us,
giving our kin the wisdom
Sing of the light Holis shone on us
giving our kin their destiny
Kill, kill, the Rell my friend
Make them repent their evil ways
Kill, kill, the Rell my love
and bring our children peace.”
The chant went on and on, as it was a long chronicle of atonement and redemption. Colin kept his eyes on Ronald, which allowed Elaine to write something carefully on the lyrics. Finally the song came to an end.
“Alright, would we like to try one more? Great. Ronald, you shred these, while I print up some new ones.”
Ronald went over to the shredder, and inserted the leaves of paper. She handed out the new pages, glancing over at Ronald to see if he read them, but he seemed distracted. Colin started for a moment after he shredded the paper, but relaxed as they sang the next song, which ended far too quickly for Elaine. The bell rang signaling the end of the session. Colin smiled at her, who knew she had lost.
“Alright everyone, it was good to meet you! Our next session is in two days. Think about what you might like to do then.” She watched, as Colin kept Ronald back with his baton, and the others hurried out of the room. She was about to say something, when Colin gestured her to leave. Colin was so eager to start, he couldn’t even wait until Elaine was out of earshot before pummeling Ronald with his baton. She closed the door firmly and then leaned back against it.
“Don’t worry, Ronald can take care of himself,” said Matthew, who lingered for a moment, as the other prisoners waited for Colin to come out and escort them back to their cells.
“How did you know?”
“It’s a small prison. You hear a lot of things. Like that little incident with you, Ian and the eual.”
Elaine was taken aback at his knowledge. “What of it?”
Suddenly Colin came out of the room, beaming with a wide smile, pushing Ronald in front who held his head low.
“All you fools—get in line!”
Matthew stayed for a moment longer, as Colin gave Ronald more grief. For the first time, Elaine noticed how kind and gentle his eyes were. He had a thick goatee, and bushy eyebrows, with long hair that covered most of his eyes. He spoke quickly, knowing time was short. “The euals are susceptible to strong mental suggestion. They weren’t always food dispensers, you know.”
“Come on, Matthew,” shouted Colin, slamming his baton against a wall. “Back in line!”
As he walked into line, something about his manner of walking—tall, proud, erect, touched something in her mind. For a moment, it was as if a cloud was pulled back, allowing her to see what truly was. In that instant, she knew Matthew could be no prisoner, for no prisoner walked like that. No prisoner held themselves with such honest dignity, such nobility.
It was lunchtime again, time for the truce between guard and inmate. It was one of two times in every day that tensions eased, as food was the only thing on anyone’s mind. The more Elaine lived and worked in the facility, the more she thought the Manipulator probably enhanced the pleasurable aspect of eating, nulling violent impulses.
On her way over she stopped by Doctor Elestor’s office, asking about John. She didn’t see him in any of the beds when she got there, but Elestor assured her he was progressing fine. Something about his mannerisms, even his tone of voice raised more questions than he answered, but she knew she could do little about it.
As she got into the cafeteria, Elaine’s mind was focused on what Matthew told her earlier. She did a cursory search of the euals, and found what he told her was true. They were converted military euals, used to ferry supplies to and from the battlefield. They were created to be sympathetic to the emotions of the soldiers, that if they came across a wounded soldier that was near death, they would sense his mental anguish, and stay by his or her side. And while they were given orders or commands, they were meant to be influenced by the extreme needs of frontline commanders. As such, their central processors defaulted to strong needs, overriding less important commands.
Elaine couldn’t wait to test out her suspicions. She got a tray of food quickly, nodding to the eual numbered MT-389, then sat at a table near the food line, waiting for her favorite inmate.
“Hey Lainey,” waved Michael, who was sitting at a far table, “come sit here!”
“I’ll be over in a bit,” she replied, as she sat back and waited. Don’t come here, don’t come here, don’t come here! she thought over and over again, as out of the corner of her eye she could see Michael debate whether or not to sit down. Damn you’re an insecure piece of crap. She could see he made up his mind, and came over to sit with her.
“Why are you sitting here?” he asked, sitting across from her. “We never sit this close to the food line—you never know what’ll happen.”
“Yeah, you don’t. And I think today might be a good show.”
Ian had finally come into the line, with inmates from the rest of his cellblock. He had a swagger as he grabbed a tray from one of the euals. A short man with muscular arms, he wasn’t in her group, so she knew little about him, other than that he hated the euals. I wonder why. Ah well, you’re gonna hate them a lot more after today.
“So,” began Michael, trying to make conversation, “how was your group today?”
“Pretty . . . pretty good,” absently answered Elaine, as she saw Ian was coming up on MT-389. “Hold on a sec—I think one of the euals is malfunctioning.”
Ian was coming up to the eual, as Elaine began to press her mind on the machine. She tried something simple—she wanted the eual to slam its ladle on Ian’s tray, knocking it over.
“Hey, looky, it’s my favorite fuckin’ machine,” jeered Ian. “Think you can get it right this time?”
She pressed hard on the eual’s mind, not knowing if she was really accomplishing anything. Michael was saying something, chattering as he always did, but she ignored him.
Come on, come on, bring it down hard! You know he hates you, hates all your kind. He needs to be taught a lesson!
The eual scooped up a portion of the protein meal, and swiveled it over Ian’s tray.
“Well, hurry it up you dumb fuck!”
Elaine pressed even harder, focusing on the eual’s arm, willing it to drop like a sac of cement on Ian’s tray.
“Lainey?!” yelled Michael, tired of being ignored.
“What?” she snapped back, now unable to concentrate.
“I—”
Suddenly the food line turned into utter chaos. Ian was climbing over the basins of food, trying to get to MT-389, while Blake and Colin were running over with batons drawn, rushing to subdue him.
“What’s going on there?” asked Michael, standing to get a better look.
Elaine just smiled, and began to dig into her plate. “Probably just more foolishness. Just ignore them—I do.”
She got back to her suite, feeling more alive than since she could remember.