“And how is Zurt?”
“Will was fine the last time I talked to him which was…” I looked at my pinky ring computer… “twenty-one minutes ago.”
“Good. Good. And you are his – girlfriend?”
“No. As you might expect, Will does not have those kinds of emotions. Think of me as his executive officer.”
“Ahh. So, that would be your first lie, Melissa,” Zzyk smiled. Proud of himself. “I have a full report from our friends in B.C. You weren’t behaving like an executive officer when you were dancing and Zurt was certainly not emotionless. Tell me, have you seduced him yet?”
I thought a crude word. I thought it twice more. One minute into the meeting and Zzyk has caught me in a lie and he’s making me flustered. I hadn’t been expecting the girl friend question and I had blurted out the first thing I could think of. Now, he’s asking me if I have had sex with Will and there was no way to answer that kind of question – even a “None of your business” would be revealing. I resolved to take some time before answering his questions from now on.
“Do I sense a little embarrassment, Melissa? Your cheeks look a little pink. I mean, if you’ve seduced him, I don’t mind. I am only Zurt’s volunteer-parent, it’s not like I’m his chaperon. And, I can understand Zurt being attracted to you, especially so soon after he removed his brain-band. I saw pictures of you at the dance. You were wearing these same skimpy, revealing clothes, parading around half-naked, flinging your body in sex-like gyrations. Why wouldn’t he be attracted to you? Did you seduce him as part of the grad-bration celebrations you attended with him or did you save that for later?”
Sex-like gyrations? We were jiving! Was Zzyk a prude? I mean, I’m as prudish as they come; prudish about sex talk; prudish about using crude language. That was one of the consequences of living with dissidents and trying to be everything that they weren’t. But I was definitely picking up some vibrations of someone even more prudish than I. Was that why the brain-bands were programmed to tamp down the sex drive? Was that the reasons behind neutering all the IOF women? If so, I could put him on the defensive too.
“Are you curious about Will’s sex life because you’re still a virgin?” I asked.
Zzyk stared at me without saying anything. His face filled the screen so I took that opportunity to look closely. Gray hair at the temples, dark brown hair otherwise. At his age, he should have been mostly gray. Thin moustache, somewhat gray. Clean-shaven otherwise. I saw no evidence of anything fake around his nose. No obvious break in the skin texture; no abrupt change in any of the facial lines that would be there if someone had been a little sloppy applying the make-up. Come to think of it – for a man who had to be in his 70s at least, he had very few age lines. A few wrinkles around his eyes, but nowhere else. “Are you wearing make-up, Zzyk?” I asked as pleasantly as I could. I already knew the answer. His hair was dyed; his wrinkles were covered; he didn’t want to reveal his age to me.
The camera shot pulled back so that I could see him seated at a desk. The shot was still tight – no way that I’d get any clues to where that office was.
“Well played, Melissa. Shall we move on?”
I shrugged.
“You told Rick that you had a message from Zurt,” he prompted.
“Actually, that message is from the Wilizy,” I corrected. I started in on my prepared speech, trying to deliver it as respectfully as I could. “The members of the Wilizy wish to recognize your skill and accomplishment in leading Alberta and the IOF through very difficult times. We cannot imagine what it would have been like after the oil shock. We expect every government in the world had difficulty coping with it. You had a vision and you imposed it on the people of Alberta. We have strong feelings about the way that you imposed your vision, but we weren’t there at the time, so we can hardly criticize. Violence was rampant everywhere, we’re sure. You did what you thought was necessary and you chose methods that were in common usage at the time.”
“Do I sense a But coming?” Zzyk's fingers were steepled together and were propping up his chin.
I ignored the interruption. “You have kept Albertans safe, well-fed, educated, healthy, and reasonably prosperous given the conditions. People may hate you, and I’m sure I’m not revealing anything that you don’t know by saying that. However, you kept Alberta functioning throughout all the turmoil and citizens should thank you for that accomplishment."
“But?” Zzyk shifted in his chair and crossed both arms across his chest.
“That was decades ago. Today, although they are safe, healthy and educated, the people have no will to live. They have no enjoyment in their lives. Brain-bands have removed whatever chance they might have had to be happy, so they live as zombies until they overdose on contraband brain-band chemicals which, curiously, the DPS has been unable to eradicate.”
“And you want?”
"We think it is time to reinvigorate the people of the IOF. We think there should be a gradual relaxation of the brain-band enforcements; we think there should be a gradual reintroduction of basic human rights and freedoms; we think people should be able to bear children again. We’d like to work with you in helping the IOF create better lives for everyone.”
“If I disagree?”
“We’d have to ask you to consider retirement.”
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Chapter 18
From Izzy's journals: Day 3 of imprisonment.
At the end of our meeting yesterday, Zzyk said he had to consult with the IOF’s Board of Directors about our proposal – they were the ones who made the important decisions. It would take some time to get them all together; he’d give me their decision. Yeah, right! I figured it was just a way to drag everything out. So, I wasn’t expecting anything to happen today when someone knocked on my door near bedtime. I opened it to find Rick. Two DPS uniforms behind him were holding a large, rectangular, wooden crate. “This came for you this evening,” Rick said. “We have examined its contents without opening the box as stipulated. There are about thirty foil-wrapped oblong-shaped items that blocked our probes. I have assumed that they are food bars, but would like the opportunity to verify that. Where would you like the crate?”
I told the guards to place it against a bare wall. They had to turn it sideways to get it in. Didn’t appear too heavy, just big. Rick stayed in the doorway the whole time. Two thick, wide metal bands secured the crate. One went up and down; the second went sideways. The ends of each pair of bands were crimped together so that the band fit extremely tightly against the crate.
I looked more closely at how one of the bands was fastened. One end of a thin wire was attached to the crimping; the other end went into a large ring made of braided wire. Embedded within this braided ring was a green flashing light. Even I could see that this was a trip wire. The other metal band had a similar braided ring and a green flashing light. Anyone disturbing the metal bands would have their interference recorded. I pulled the wires off the crimpings, the lights turned red, and the crimped metal bands fell apart.
I lifted the lid to the crate. “They’re in the middle,” Rick called.
I found three light cardboard cartons easily. Each one was a different variation of a commercial brand of food bar. I took the cartons to the door and watched as Rick opened each carton with a knife and sliced through several bars in each carton at random. He also felt around and under each bar and then left without saying anything.
I finished my nighttime exercises as though the crate’s arrival had meant nothing. Obviously, Will would have told me it was coming; obviously, I knew exactly what was in the crate. What would be the rush in unpacking what I had been expecting?
After an excruciating hour of fake exercises, I fished in the crate, loaded up an arm full of supplies and went into the bathroom. Two wonderfully thick, fluffy yellow towels and two similar face clothes were on the top of the pile. Hidden in the towels were twenty chocolate bars that I recognized from the Chocoholic Shop bu
t they were wrapped in paper so that Rick could not have guessed their origin in case he had decided to break the agreement. I had smelled the aroma as soon as I opened the crate and had felt their shapes as I was rummaging around looking for the food bars. I wolfed one down making sure that my back was turned to the presumed camera above the bathtub. It wouldn’t do to reveal how excited I was to get Will’s care package. I put one towel and face cloth on the counter for my shower later tonight; stored the chocolate bars and the extra towel and face cloth in the bottom of the cupboard.
Back to the crate in the living room. Pulled out a heavy green canvas tent that had taken up most of the interior space. Spread it out on the floor and thought about where I would place it. Didn’t seem to matter so I just placed it in the middle of the room. Didn’t expect to find anything inside the tent – no secret messages or such stuff. If Will weren’t taking a chance on revealing the Chocoholic Shop, he wouldn’t take a chance on paper messages to me either.
Each time I had a fake conversation with Will, I had wondered if he might be just outside. I always spoke in a normal voice but towards the windows just in case. The fact that he sent me a tent confirmed that he had been outside at least once. He was telling me that a camera was watching me and the tent would allow me some privacy.
With the tent out of the crate, the rest of the contents were visible. Found the two halves of the center pole for the tent, enough water for three weeks, five wire hangers, a bottle of shampoo, and a bottle of something called a bubble bath. I didn’t recognize either brand. I also found two thick pads of sketching paper, a small case of sharpened pencils, a carton of twelve tubes of acrylic paints, two brand new palettes, a set of brushes, and a collapsible easel.
That left five cloth bags of various sizes. The smallest held an assortment of underwear that I did not pull out and display in front of the camera. Opening the second revealed a pair of moccasins with several pairs of new socks stuffed into them. The third held a pair of white shorts and an emerald short-sleeved shirt. I found a pair of white slacks and an emerald green turtleneck in the fourth. In the largest bag were two skirts (white and emerald green), two patterned blouses (one emerald green decoration laid onto white, the second in the reverse), and a frilly white vest. Everything appeared to be in my size – at least from what I could determine by holding them up against me. I recognized the clothes from the B.C. store where I had bought my dress. Will must have found the store’s name in the packaging that I had left in the Wilizy and had flown back to Surrey to buy them. That explained the strange shampoo.
I hung my new clothes on the hangers and put them in the closet – all except the shorts and the short-sleeved shirt that I took into the bathroom. I also took the top half of the tent pole. Placing the bathroom’s threadbare face cloth on the rounded top of my pole, I rammed it into the empty heat lamp socket hoping to hear the crack of a glass lens. I didn’t, but banged the pole in and out for a while anyway, before leaving the old face cloth jammed into the socket. Then, I found out what the mysterious bubble bath did. It made bubbles in a bath. Go figure.
What a sweetie. Buying me clothes; buying me underwear even! I tried to visualize Will doing that and simply couldn’t.
# # # # # # # #
From Izzy's journals: Day 4 of imprisonment.
I was doing pencil sketches of the faces of different imaginary people. I didn’t want Zzyk to know that I liked to sketch the same child over and over. This would raise questions in his mind and a Z never likes to have unanswered questions floating around in his brain.
I don’t know why Will had included the paint set. I hadn’t progressed past pencil sketches and didn’t have the foggiest idea how to even prepare the paints, let alone use them. Read the instructions on the tubes; found out that the paint was very fast drying. Decided that I would try a little painting – but not in the traditional manner. Held one of my completed pencil sketches against a wall and brushed a wide, thick band of paint across the top of the paper. Quite a bit slopped onto the wall. Oops. Repeated the process on the bottom of the sketch. Double oops! Found out that it was true that it dried quickly. Strong too. Found out that dried acrylic paint would hold the paper against the wall. Decided to hang my sketches in non-likely bug locations today. Soon, I will start hanging my artwork in places where I suspect there’s a bug. Don’t know if Will had this in mind when he stocked the crate. Cameras don’t work too well when a piece of paper is stuck in front of the lens.
I was working on my sixth sketch when I heard the videoconference unit click on. Looked at my pinky-computer. 6:00 – the same time as two nights ago. I had already pushed the empty crate into the center of the room, so just walked over and sat on it.
Zzyk asked some meaningless questions at the beginning – was I comfortable, did I have enough food, and so on. Pretending that he didn’t already know the answers. I used single word answers. Just give me the refusal so that I can go home, Zzyk!
He surprised me. Said that the Board had discussed the matter; said that there was some merit in what I had asked; said that they had authorized Zzyk to make us an offer. They were willing to give both Zurt and me an opportunity to work with them. Zurt would take a position as Assistant Research Director and learn Zzyk’s job with the anticipation that at some point in the future, he would take over as Chief Research Officer of the DPS. I would be given a job in their planning directorate – the unit of the IOF that makes strategic decisions. In time, and if I learned the job properly, I would be promoted to the Head of the unit. Zzyk apologized that my job was not higher in the hierarchy, but I was very young, and it would not do IOF morale any good to give an inexperienced and untrained recruit a position above others who had been there longer. Zurt was different – he would not be jumping ahead of anyone.
"So we report to work in Edmonton and everything will be forgiven?”
“Yes, certainly. We think both of you have great potential. Youths make mistakes. We realize that. Especially when they don’t have brain-bands to guide them."
"That suggests that we will be given brain-bands to ensure that mistakes are not repeated?”
“Oh, yes. Surely. Everyone working for the IOF wears a brain-band.”
Oh no, they don’t, Zzyk. Will discovered the truth when he was hiding in your file room. So now, I have caught you in a lie and I’ve seen how well you can do that.
“Would you like an opportunity to think about it?”
“Naturally, I have to tell Will of the offer. We’ll have a reply for you tomorrow at this same time.”
Zzyk clicked off.
An interesting development. I had thought that Zzyk would just turn us down flat and I’d be allowed to leave under my white flag. Now here he was actually negotiating, or pretending to negotiate. Essentially, he wanted us to voluntarily turn ourselves in and let our memories be wiped. That would save him the problem of catching us. But, since he had been so reasonable, I couldn’t storm off in a huff. I had to play the game a little longer.
I pretended to call Will; gave him Zzyk’s offer accurately. Then, listened to Will storming. Said “Uh huh” a lot. Told him several times to calm down, take deep breaths. Finished with “I’ll give Zzyk your response” and hung up. Went back to my sketching. One more day.
# # # # # # # #
From Izzy's journals: Day 5 of imprisonment.
The videoconference unit clicked on at precisely 6 p.m. Zs tend to be obsessive about anything that can be measured so I was ready and sat down on my crate. There were no pleasantries this time.
“Your response?”
“Regrettably, we can accept no offer that would end with us wearing brain-bands and being confined under the supervision of someone in the DPS. However, I do thank you…”
“How do you see this working, then? You want input into our decisions, but you won’t work with us?”
“We don’t need to be involved in the details of how changes are made. We can work with you, but at a distance a
nd only in changing the broad directions of the IOF.”
“But, that’s the function of the board! You are asking to be given the powers of the board but without having any of their experience or knowledge? Two fifteen-year old children are going to become the governing board of the IOF? That is entirely unreasonable.”
“I can see that we’re at an impasse, so…”
“I’d like to hear Zurt make that decision. Why don’t we find a way for the three of us to meet? I’d like Zurt to hear the specifics of the work that he’d be doing for us. His private physics lab; decision-making ability on which projects he assumes; creative license to experiment on anything he wishes; and, an excellent compensation package. The brain-band would have nominal settings only. I’m sure he’d be interested if I could talk with him directly.”
“In some DPS office?”
“In my office. You would be present too, of course.”
“We are not going to turn ourselves over to the DPS.”
“Melissa, you seem to be the stumbling block here, so I’ll sweeten my offer to you. We will not require you to wear a brain-band. Unfortunately, that would prevent us from giving you a job with staff who are obliged to meet the same rules as everyone else in the IOF. But, we will set you up in a comfortable apartment. Zurt can visit you during the workday. He may even stay the night. This way, you can service his needs without…"
“I can service his needs!”
“Well, yes, certainly. With Zurt’s brain-band controls at a minimal level, he will still have sexual urges. You can satisfy those urges, just as you are doing now. Nothing will really change in your lives…”
“You mean that I will be Will’s slut?”
“Why yes,” Zzyk responded with a perfectly innocent look on his face. “Aren’t you that now?”
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Chapter 19