Down the Psycho Path

by Mandy White

  “Ain’t got none. If I don’t come outta this, I want my money to be buried with me.”

  “As you wish.”

  The rest of the room followed suit. All opted for cash except Lola. She chose the bank transfer option because it seemed wise to have a paper trail. She also had little confidence in her ability to tell the difference between real cash and a good counterfeit. She doubted anyone other than a banker could know for certain and the room seemed to have a distinct shortage of financial experts.

  True to Dr. Hughes’ word, Lola accepted the transfer and then checked her bank balance on her phone. The new balance was one million dollars higher than it had been moments ago.

  “Holy shit, it’s real,” she whispered. She hoped this was worth it, whatever this was. If anything happened to Lola, her twin sister Lisa had access to their joint bank account and the money would become hers.

  Once everyone had signed and been paid, Dr. Hughes allowed them a few minutes to examine their briefcases full of money. Lola had never seen a million dollars in cash before, but didn’t dare ask anyone for a closer look. The paranoid glances that flashed from one face to the next warned her to keep her distance.

  Dr. Hughes cleared his throat.

  “It’s time to get started. If you’ll all please lie back on your couches and relax, we will get this over with quickly and then you will be free to enjoy your wealth.

  They obeyed with some reluctance, not wanting to let their money out of their sight. Twenty-nine people lay on couches, clutching briefcases to their laps. Lola lay briefcase-free, her arms by her sides.

  The lights dimmed until only shadows remained.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, you are about to make history. You are pioneers, about to take part in the creation of a brave new world.”

  A murmur of excitement rippled over the room.

  “Listen to the sound of my voice. Relax. And when the lights return, the experiment will be complete.”

  The ones closest to the walls heard a faint hissing sound as colorless, odorless gas filled the room.

  * * *

  Bright light filled the room, accompanied by the rustle of movement, the rasp smokers’ coughs, and yawns.

  Lola faded back to consciousness. It took a few minutes to remember where she was. Gradually the memories returned; the doctors, the million dollar payment, the Craigslist ad that started it all:

  Volunteers wanted for sleep experiment. Payment in cash. Substantial monetary compensation for the right candidates. Call for more information.

  When she called to inquire, the woman, presumably Dr. Welch, conducted a brief interview over the phone. Some sort of psychological questionnaire, judging by the odd questions:

  “What is your favorite dinosaur?

  How old is the Earth?

  Who was the first man to walk on the moon?

  Who was responsible for 9/11?

  Is the Earth round, square, or flat?”

  And so on… simple questions any fool would know how to the answer. A week later she received a call saying that she had been accepted for the experiment, and the payment would be… WHAT?

  “I’m sorry, could you please repeat that?”

  “One million dollars.” You will be paid one million dollars in cash,” the voice on the phone said.

  Lola was skeptical, as was her sister Lisa. They had made the phone call together, via speaker phone. Lisa answer the questions, even though it would be Lola who showed up for the experiment. She didn’t agree with Lisa’s answers, but she never argued with her sister. Lisa needed to feel in control whenever possible. Her disability didn’t allow her that luxury very often.

  “But what if it’s for real? We need the money.”

  Lisa rolled her wheelchair closer to Lola and reached for her hand. “I need you more than I need money. Let’s pray on it. The good Lord will guide us with His wisdom.”

  Lola tolerated the prayer like she tolerated the rest of Lisa’s eccentricities: her obsession with chemtrails, her membership with the Flat Earth Society, and of course her religious beliefs, which bordered on fanaticism. But all quirks aside, Lisa was her twin, and she loved her. Lola knew she was going to go, regardless of what Lisa thought God wanted.

  She didn’t want to upset Lisa; her faith was her life. But Lola lived in the real world. Prayer didn’t pay medical bills. Lisa’s insurance didn’t cover the cost of her treatments, and as her illness progressed, the mountain of debt grew ever bigger. God wouldn’t have given her sister MS. God wouldn’t have buried them in debt they couldn’t pay. Fuck God. But maybe science could bail them out. She left Lisa a note asking her forgiveness and promising to return, then made her way to the address given to her by the caller.

  * * *

  While the rest of the room yawned and stretched, Bradley and Becky were already arguing.

  “Gimme one of them!”

  “Get your own damn smokes, woman! I only got a few left.”

  “You ain’t gonna have any nuts left if I don’t get a smoke right now! Gimme!”

  “Keep sassin’ me and you’re gonna get a fat lip. Here.” Bradley threw a cigarette at her.

  “Gimme a light.”

  He lit a smoke of his own, rubbed the lighter on his crotch and then flung it at her. “Stupid bitch.”

  “Aw, real mature. Dickhead.”

  Bud opened his briefcase to look inside, then snapped it shut again, as if worried that his cash would escape.

  “Hey! Anybody know where a guy can drain the lizard ‘round here?”

  A murmur ran through the group. Several others had the same idea.

  “Over here!” A blonde woman in a leopard-print dress and stiletto heels clip-clopped toward an open doorway with male and female restroom signs on either side.

  Other members of the group followed, forming dual lines in front of the bathroom doors, all clutching their briefcases of money. Bud drained the lizard one-handed, keeping a firm grip on his briefcase with the other.

  The group milled around the room, exploring their surroundings. It wasn’t the same room they were in when they fell asleep.

  A large TV screen hung on one wall with bland yet comfortable looking couches and plush armchairs arranged in front. Lola noticed one oddity: all the seats were equipped with seatbelts. A blind covered the opposite wall. The third wall accommodated the restrooms and the fourth held a set of double doors that led to a large open kitchen with booths and tables, all bolted to the floor like a fast food restaurant. Like the TV room, the seats had seatbelts.

  “I still can’t find no ashtrays. Maybe I can open a window and ash outta that.” Becky strolled over to the wall opposite the TV and pulled on the blind. “Let’s see what’s behind here.”

  The blind rose, revealing a large window. The room fell silent.

  Space.

  Blackness with stars stretched before their eyes.

  A small tube was attached to the window. Becky saw the word TELESCOPE printed on the side of the tube. “Anyone know how to work this thing?”

  Lola joined her at the window and examined the telescope. Astronomy was a hobby she kept secret from her sister, who didn’t believe in space or anything scientific. The telescope’s mount was a collapsible accordion-style thing. She pulled it away from the window and then expanded the telescope.

  “Dang! Ain’t that nifty!” Becky said, breathing a lungful of smoke over Lola’s shoulder.

  “Please, would you mind blowing that somewhere else? I don’t smoke.”

  “Whatever, snowflake.” Becky huffed, moving back a few paces.

  Lola ignored the remark and peered through the telescope. After a few seconds of searching, she found what she was looking for and confirmed her suspicions. A tiny blue planet with an even tinier moon could be seen in the distance. She adjusted the magnification on the scope to enlarge it.

  Earth.

  And they were not on it. In fact, they appeared to be moving away from it. But to where?

 
“Now what?” Becky said.

  As if in reply, the TV screen flickered to life.

  Dr Hughes was on the screen.

  “Greetings everyone! If you’re watching this, then the sleep experiment was a success. Congratulations! Feel free to help yourself to refreshments and use the facilities at your leisure. You will be arriving at your destination shortly, and you will be notified prior to landing. When you hear the landing announcement, we ask that you follow instructions and remain seated with your seatbelts fastened. It’s just a precaution, of course. We anticipate a smooth landing, but in case the opposite occurs, we can’t have you hurtling around the cabin.”

  “Cabin? What fucking cabin? Are we on an airplane?” Brad said.

  Hughes droned on. Apparently they were watching a pre-recorded video.

  “I’m sure by now you are wondering what your destination is. Let me start by saying that you are the first humans ever to set foot here. You are making history. You are pioneers in every sense of the word.”

  Blondie stomped over to the screen and shouted at the larger-than-life image of Hughes. “I demand to know where you are sending us! This isn’t funny! I have an appointment tomorrow, and my manicurist will flip her shit if I have to cancel! You don’t even know…”

  Voices rose across the room.

  “Where are we?”

  “You sendin’ us to one of those A-Rab countries? This better not be no Eye-Rack, or you gonna hear from my lawyer!”

  “What the fuck kinda plane is this, anyways?”

  “Hey! Quiet! Maybe we should listen to the rest of this!” Lola shouted over the crowd and pointed at the screen.

  The TV screen had split into two panes. One continued to display Hughes, and the other, an image of outer space. A large reddish sphere filled most of the screen.

  “What you see is your destination. The Red Planet, also known as Mars.”

  “What? Fuck outta here with that bullshit.” Bud said.

  “Yeah,” another voice piped up. “Y’all know that shit ain’t real.”

  Dr. Hughes continued in the background. “You good folks have the honor of being the first humans to set foot on Mars. You will be the leaders of a new colony that has been decades in the making. We have sent numerous missions to Mars, manned by robots, which have constructed the domes and various structures that make up the colony. All that remained was to introduce a human population. You have all been carefully selected to be that population.”

  Lola scanned the faces in the room. It looked like a trailer park block party. She had nothing in common with these people. How was it that she was chosen?

  And then it hit her.

  Lisa.

  The questions.

  Lisa had answered the questions, which were carefully selected to screen out everyone except science deniers, conspiracy theorists, Creationists… Flat Earthers…

  Hughes droned on.

  “You are all very fortunate to be part of this group. Your group is the only one to recieve a large cash payment for participation. Our financial backers cut our budget immediately following our payout to you. They felt a million dollars was too extravagant and that we should select test subjects with less... financial motivation. So you not only have the honor of being the first humans on Mars, you will also be the most wealthy.”

  “That’s what I’m talkin’ bout!” Bud whooped, waving his briefcase. “Rest o’ them assholes can suck it!”

  “To be honest, we didn’t think you’d get this far,” Hughes said. “Our previous test subjects didn’t survive the hyper sleep. And then we thought; why not kill two birds with one stone? This can be an experiment in education as well. So we chose individuals who would be most resistant to the idea of a space colony. Non-believers, if you will. Well, I predict that if you survive this experiment you will emerge as believers. How can you not believe in space or science, when you’re in space, making scientific history? And anytime you feel homesick for your beloved “flat” Earth, you can gaze at your home planet through the telescope and bask in its beautiful spherical glory.”

  The screen switched and the image of Mars filled the screen again, but Hughes’ voice continued to narrate.

  “I’ll ask you now to please find a seat and fasten your seatbelts. The ride might get a little bumpy from here. Best of luck, we’re all rooting for you. If you survive the landing, you can rest assured that your colony is going to grow. We have already dispatched a second shuttle filled with death row inmates to keep you company.”

  Vegan Meat

  “The cow and pig are not even natural animals. Tell me, where in nature can you find a cow? A farm is man-made and cows and pigs are hybridized animals. A pig is cross bred between a muskrat, bobcat and hyena! So you’re eating muskrat… just let that sink in!”

  The man on the TV screen continued to rant, struggling against the police officers, who cuffed him and wrestled him into the back of the cruiser.

  Sinead sipped her lukewarm coffee, too engrossed in the newscast to pour a fresh one.

  Sinead knew the crazy man. She also knew he wasn’t as crazy as he looked.

  * * *

  Scott Cameron was a former co-worker of Sinead’s, back in the early days of their careers. Fresh out of university and bursting with optimism, Sinead eagerly accepted a job offer from a large corporation. It all sounded so environmental, so save- the- planet perfect in her idealistic young mind. Even the name sounded environmentally friendly: Evergreen Research. She didn’t learn until later that Evergreen was owned and funded by Monsanto.

  Those early days in the laboratories were filled with excitement and discovery, and it was there that she met Scott, also fresh out of university. Sinead truly believed she was making a difference, developing things that would change the world for the better. It wasn’t until reports of the negative effects of their work began to surface, that Sinead realized perhaps her employers weren’t the saints she thought they were.

  When Sinead made the decision to part company with Evergreen, they demanded she sign a document bearing the Monsanto logo. It was a gag order, which prohibited her from divulging any information about the work conducted in their laboratories or using knowledge obtained therein to profit herself or others. She had no interest in what went on in those laboratories. She signed the document and moved on, eventually finding employment in genetic research for disease prevention.

  Scott stayed on with Evergreen for a while after Sinead left, but she heard through a mutual friend that he had been fired for “ethical differences”, whatever that meant.

  * * *

  Five Years Later:

  Sinead’s contract expired, and the company opted to not renew it. She decided to take some time off and enjoy a much-deserved holiday in Mexico.

  One tequila-soaked night in Puerto Vallarta, Sinead spied a familiar face in the nightclub: Scott. He whooped when he saw her, and pulled her into an off-balance bear hug that nearly landed both of them on the floor. He slung an arm over her shoulder and sprayed her cheek with saliva as he shouted into her ear over the music.

  “You gotta come see what I’m doing! I made a breakthrough like you never seen before. Makes those ashhats at Monshanto look like kinnergarten! This shit’ll revolutionize the food innustry. It’s gonna be huge! As shoon as the patents go through, I gonna be a billionaire, and I ain’t talkin’ peshos!”

  Sinead wiped her cheek and adjusted her balance to counteract Scott’s drunken sway.

  “Sounds interesting, but I’m on vacation. Taking kind of a hiatus from work.”

  “Thass even better! I’m gonna need a partner when this shit breaks. I’m gonna be so busy. I’m sherious. You’d be perfect for the job. I’ll let ya in on the ground floor.”

  “I admit I’m curious. Give me your number and I’ll look you up when I get back home.”

  “No, you don’t unnerstand. It’s here. My lab. I live here now. Can’t do this in the U.S. Too many regulations. It would take years to get where I am n
ow.”

  “Your lab is here, in Mexico?”

  “You betcher sweet ass, baby!”

  “Then how can I say no? For old times’ sake.”

  Scott raised his glass. “For old times’ sake!”

  * * *

  Scott’s “lab” was the second bedroom of a two-bedroom rented condo. It didn’t look much out of the ordinary; complete with the occasional bug-hunting gecko. A row of mismatched refrigerators lined one wall of the room.

  “I can’t wait to hear what you’re working on here,” Sinead said, peering into the room. She nodded toward the fridges. “I can’t imagine what those could be for.”

  The effects of the previous night’s drinks lingered in the dull throb behind her eyes and parched throat. Scott looked worse than she felt.

  “I’m dying of thirst. Let’s get something to drink and then I’ll give you the tour.” He led the way to the kitchen, where he rummaged in the fridge for refreshments.

  “I have bottled water, orange juice, or cola. What’s your preference?” Scott had already placed the orange juice on the counter next to a package of Solo cups.

  “That’ll do,” Sinead said, reaching for a cup. Assorted bottles of liquor cluttered the counter beside the cups.

  Scott added vodka to his orange juice and then offered the bottle to Sinead. She accepted the bottle and spiked her juice as well. What the hell, she thought, I’m on vacation.

  Scott went into the living room, where he plopped onto the couch with a weary sigh. Sinead followed and took a seat at the opposite end. She sipped her drink, waiting for him to talk.

  “I don’t know how much you might have heard, but I left Evergreen due to some irreconcilable differences,” he began.

  “I heard you were fired.”

  “Same thing. Potato, potawto. Best thing that ever happened to me. I learned a lot working there, but of course you know we’re not allowed to talk about that.” He gave her a knowing wink.

  “I hate to point out the obvious, but we’re also not allowed to apply any of their research to other projects,” she said.