Recalling Destiny

by Michael Blinkhoff

  They both nodded, Truck moved off the wall to assist and again left another splotch of blood on the wall he’d leant on.

  “Ok, Truck, you’re on clamps. Suni, you need to keep the wound clean whilst I go in.”

  Truck dutifully grabbed the clamps and tried to comply with the task, but his hands kept shaking as he tried to steady them over Harrison’s wound. He stopped himself, shook out his hands and returned, but to no avail, his hands kept shaking.

  “Truck, are you ok?” Doc asked.

  Doc and Suni looked at him and noticed his hands weren’t shaking because he was nervous, they were shaking because he’d lost blood himself. His face was now white, the pupils not fixed properly and he had the shakes. Added to this he couldn’t stand properly on his feet, swaying like a drunk.

  “I’m ok, just need to …”

  “Truck, have you been shot?” Doc started to look more closely at the blood splotches on his shirt. Initially he’d paid no attention to the blood, assuming it’d come from Harrison. But now upon closer inspection he realised Truck too had been wounded.

  Truck tried to wave him away, “Please, you have to ... look after him first ...” He clutched his chest painfully, wincing with the pain.

  “Truck?”

  But he couldn’t hear Doc anymore, everything had gone black. Truck lurched forward a second before rolling in the opposite direction, collapsing backwards and landing on the apartment floor with a tremendous thud.

  Down like a sack of spuds.

  - -

  Catlin

  After her meeting with Ma’am, Catlin had been moved from the detention cells to the staff housing area of the facility.

  No more dark room.

  She’d been relocated into a room that was partitioned into two separate living sections, but no door sealed the partitioned room. It had been fitted out quite simply, with a single bed atop a wooden bed of drawers and a desk beside it. On the bed, a pile of clothes had been laid out for her. All the right size, all to her liking, everything fitting her perfectly.

  Even though the room adjoining was empty she found herself wishing for some company, she’d felt so isolated the past few days.

  Too much time alone make Catlin go crazy!

  Although free of the cells now, Catlin felt no more relief. Her brief time here had seen her go through several emotions, the more pressing being why she was brought here. Ma’am had made mention of her capturing some energy in a camera lens, but she couldn’t see how wielding a camera could make a difference in a place like this.

  Of course, she believed the skill of recording events photographically was indeed an important part of any measure of life, but this was something different. She sensed that wasn’t the reason for her being here, there was some other motive. Catlin felt she needed to understand more of what Destiny were doing here before she could make reason of it all, for certainly there was more to it than a simple set of photographs.

  The woman had said that I was special. Special how?

  The first morning after her meeting with Ma’am a team member had come to wake Catlin, but as the woman went to knock on the partition wall, she noticed Catlin sitting on her fully made bed, dressed and waiting to go.

  “Is everything ok Ms?”

  Deeply engrossed in her own thoughts, the intrusion had startled Catlin, she flinched involuntarily at the woman’s entrance.

  “Well, I suppose.”

  “Well, follow me then Ms.” the woman said brusquely.

  She rose quietly and followed the lady as she turned and walked off, “so what’s your name?” Catlin asked, hurrying after the woman a little too enthusiastically.

  “My name is Jenny, Ms.”

  “Well my name is Catlin, Catlin Conley, it’s nice to meet you Jenny.” She stuck out her hand involuntarily as the two walked the hallway hastily.

  “We are to refer to you as Ms, we don’t use names down here.” She replied, ignoring the outstretched hand as they kept walking down the hallway.

  “But you just said your name was Jenny.”

  “All the operators here are assigned numbers Ms, to which they are then referred to by. The station heads are to use first names only,” the woman replied curtly. “I am a station head.”

  “Urghh, who came up with that stupid system?”

  “Our floor operations chief.”

  “Right, the lady called Ma’am, right?”

  “That is correct, Ms.”

  “So, what’s she like?” Catlin asked, trying to keep pace with the woman.

  “I’m not sure I understand your question?”

  “I mean, what’s she like to work for?”

  “I’m not going to answer that question,” Jenny said with a huff. “Conduct yourself more appropriately please, I am not the office gossip thank you.”

  “Right.” Catlin gulped. “So what am I, what’s my role here?”

  “For now, you are a Ms and you are being processed.”

  “Processed?”

  “Yes,” she answered, not deigning to answer the question fully.

  “Oh ok,” Catlin wondered as they rounded a corner. “So anyway, Jenny, what do you do here?” Catlin tried to sound as nice as she could, trying to get the woman to talk.

  “Staff resources and communications,” the woman replied abruptly.

  Catlin rolled her eyes at the thought, the woman was like a younger version of Ma’am, but seemingly more of a tight arse. More to the point, she wondered how this woman was responsible for communication when she clearly lacked the ability to do it properly. If she was representing the communication department Catlin wondered what the H.R department was like.

  “Oh, ok Jenny, that sounds nice. So what does that involve for you?” she tried her best to sugar coat her voice.

  Jenny paused mid stride a moment after the question, seemed to consider a reply and then continued down the hallway ignorantly. Seemingly she’d decided not to give an answer, huffing instead as she took off again. The woman evidently didn’t like her, nor the responsibility of having to look after her.

  They came to a door, which Jenny knocked on first and then opened. “Ms for you.” she said, handing over a clipboard to a man wearing a white coat inside the room.

  “Thank you Jenny, I’ll take it from here. Ms, please do come in and take a seat.”

  Catlin moved into the room nervously, Jenny disappeared without saying goodbye.

  The man closed the door and turned to her, “Hi! My name is Paul, nice to meet you.” He extended his hand and presented her with a wide smile.

  You should be in communications! Catlin thought to herself as she took his hand and smiled.

  “Please, sit down,” he pointed toward a chair next to his desk.

  “Thanks Paul.”

  “Welcome to Destiny,” he said loudly and almost ceremoniously.

  She smiled again, “thanks.”

  “Now, as you may or may not be aware this is a very unique facility and with that you’re probably feeling very disoriented right now?”

  She nodded in agreement, even smiled a little.

  “So to start you off, my role here, if I was to put it in a word is ‘Personnel Maintenance’.”

  “So there is a H.R department?” Catlin mused aloud.

  “I’m sorry?”

  She shook her head quickly “Sorry … private joke.”

  “Very good, at least you have a sense of humour.” He smiled, “You might need that here.”

  “I think you may be right on that one.”

  “Now what I would like to do, with your permission of course, is to run a series of tests to better understand you and to give us a general idea of your health. These tests are going to be a little different to what you are used to, so if you have any concerns then please raise them
as they come up ok?”

  “What are the tests for?”

  “Well mainly they’re for us to learn your mind a little better,” he replied, looking at the clipboard. “We already have your medical histories thanks to Jenny and to be quite honest the human body is a relatively simple machine to keep running anyway ...”

  Catlin cut in, “... machine?”

  “Oh, I do apologise for my choice of words Catlin …” a cheeky smile spread across his face “... I do spend my days inside a cube, that’s inside a bigger cube, that’s buried somewhere underground you know.”

  Catlin chuckled, she liked the H.R department. “So we are underground then?”

  “Yes my dear, of course. Has nobody told you anything?”

  Catlin sighed. “Nothing. Everything seems to be a big bloody mystery.”

  “Well, you’re in for a shock or two then aren’t you!” he laughed.

  Catlin frowned, not liking that he was mocking her.

  “Oh, I do apologise dear lady. Sometimes I think I’ve been in this place too long.”

  Catlin could only smile back at him awkwardly.

  “Anyway! Like I was saying, the body is like a machine, so actually it’s quite simple. But the mind is much different, it’s like considering a universe of options. Such a vast, unexplored world. My job here is to ensure that both are properly managed and maintained whilst you are here.”

  “… ahh ha … now I get it, you’re a doctor!” She piped up with her finger raised to the air.

  “Very good, well done!” He smiled, “And, also good to see you are in high spirits.”

  “You’re the first ‘real’ person I’ve met here, someone at least I feel I can talk to.”

  “Yes, unfortunately the manner in which people come here usually entails a certain, well … trait.” He stroked his moustache.

  “What do you mean the manner in which they come here?”

  “Well Ms, everyone here is dead of course!”

  “Dead? What do you mean dead?” She felt a sudden thumping in her chest.

  “I do apologise for my associates here, they’re not very good at explaining matters properly to new people. It’s a very regimented system we have and sometimes people’s ego’s get the better of them, so let me try and fill in a few blanks for you.” He put down his clipboard, grabbed a chair and sat down in front of her.

  “So, Catlin,” he used her name. “I’m not sure how it all started but I do know what this place is. Above ground this facility masquerades as Destiny, the intelligence subcontractor to the government. Above us is another, entirely different facility, one that is partially known to the world. Upstairs they utilise electrical devices and hack into them, obtaining information digitally.”

  “Partially known?”

  “Yes, the government are aware of it, as they are the biggest client. But the public have no idea there is the potential to be spied upon at any moment. The public are unaware of the Destiny facility.”

  “Wow, that’s pretty full on.”

  “Yes. But wait there more!” he jibed. “Down here things are much, much different, it can be a little hard to explain so pay attention.”

  Catlin listened, entranced by what Paul was telling her.

  “Let’s say, for example, you wanted to look up where your friend was, say, ten years from now ... that you wanted to find out what happened to them. Well, here at Destiny we have the capability to answer that question.”

  “Woah!”

  “Yeah, it’s literally like the real destiny.”

  “You mean they can tell the future?”

  “I think they can tell the future, the past, everything. Whatever happens in anyone’s life can be looked at, the same way you look through an encyclopaedia or Google to find answers.”

  “Not just some ordinary surveillance mob then.”

  “Huh?”

  “Stories, I’ve heard stories about this place.”

  “You’ve heard stories about the place upstairs,” he corrected her. “Nobody knows about this place. And if they do know, Destiny knows about them. Destiny doesn’t like other people knowing and if they find out you know something they change it so you don’t.”

  “So, what’s down here that makes it so special?”

  “Everyone here calls it the thread.”

  “The thread?”

  “Yep.”

  “Huh, weird.”

  “Yes, that’s what I thought!” he slapped his knees. “So you can understand that people here take themselves very seriously, some probably too much so.”

  She could sense he didn’t quite agree with everything Destiny stood for, that perhaps he didn’t buy into the seriousness of it all.

  “So how did you end up here then?”

  “Oh, very short story I’m afraid.”

  “Really? I thought it was almost always a long story?”

  “Well in my case not so, before I was here I wasn’t a very honest practitioner you see ...”

  “Okay …?”

  “Let’s just say I have an affinity for narcotics, for exploring different avenues of medicine,” he winked at her. “They got me into a little trouble in the other world, and in amongst all that I ended up here, kind of the only place I could go considering my nefarious activities.”

  “You must have done some bad things then?”

  “Oh yeah, I’m a bloody rebel alright!”

  Catlin found herself laughing out loud.

  “Mainstream society doesn’t understand the concept of free choice, the ability to choose whatever one wants and to carry it out responsibly. Instead they believe in laws and rules that are passed down because of fear mongering by politicians and media. I don’t blame society, that’s just what they are indoctrinated with since being born. But me, I’m an adult and I believe I have the right to make my own decisions.”

  “I agree totally!”

  “So ‘they’ decided that what I was doing was illegal, stripped me of my license and were in the process of locking me away when I ‘disappeared’.”

  “Disappeared?”

  “Official reports say that I am a fugitive at large, or missing.”

  “Wow. So they brought you here because you are a criminal?”

  “Ah, only a criminal in the eyes of the deceived.”

  “Deceived?”

  “Yes, the idiots who think the rules are right, that somehow to exist we need to live with a set of rules. I can tell you, rules are only meant as a measure of control. No, I am not a criminal, I was a drug taker and explorer of other states of consciousness. I used drugs so I could explore the multitude of altered states of consciousness, not just our present problem solving one. I utilised these experiences to help others, to heal both body and mind.”

  Catlin flinched at his mention of the use of mind altering substances, something she‘d also delved into in her life, several times over the years.

  “Because of my abilities to explore the other world, the other side of consciousness, I was brought here. There’s more to our lives than our current state of consciousness you know. There’s more than just a body and the thoughts that run through its head.”

  “Oh trust me, I explored a few of them,” she winked at him.

  “Indeed,” he continued. “Now the people here are all individuals that Destiny somehow determined were going, in all eventuality, to their deaths. Their thread stream stopped at some point in time and so it was intersected, prevented and they were brought here to work instead.”

  “Instead of what?”

  “Of dying of course.”

  “Oh God! I think I’m dumb again.”

  “Remember me saying that you wanted to find out what your friend would be up to ten years from now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, same t
hing, all the people working here had destinies revealing they were going to die. But instead of this happening they were given a reprieve and a second chance. Their destiny was changed.”

  “And that second chance was to work here?”

  “Yep. They all know they’re meant to be dead, but rather than sink into the abyss beyond what they know, they are allowed to stay here. So they work, live and stay.”

  “They sound like slaves.”

  “Hmm,” he mused. “You’re probably right on that one, haha, but no different to the other world I guess. At least here I hold some value and am treated like an adult.”

  “Crikey, so am I supposed to be dead right now?”

  “It would appear so ...” he said. “Going off what the norm is.”

  “And that’s the reason people come here to work?”

  “Well, yes and no.”

  “Huh?”

  “Well, it’s not the main reason. Kind of like a pre-requisite though before they can be accepted.”

  “Ok.”

  “Of course, they need to be qualified in their field as well, like me.”

  “You’re a doctor?”

  “And a psychologist, Ayurvedic and practitioner of altered states of consciousness. That’s what I do here, manage the body and mind during this rather strange period.”

  “Ok, I think I got it. I’m dead.”

  “Yep,” he replied awkwardly, looking strangely at the chart he was given.

  “What? Is there something else?”

  “I’m sorry, it’s not my place to say,” he replied, clearly confused by what he saw.

  Oh whatever! She thought to herself. “Why have a bunch of dead people working here?” she asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

  “Well they’re perfect aren’t they, who goes looking for dead people?”

  “Families, friends …”

  “Good point,” he conceded. “Well, it’s not like they are going to be found anyway.”

  “Why?”

  “We’re underground working for a secret organisation.”

  “Oh, ok.” she chuckled.

  “I think the main reason they select that particular trait has something to do with the thread, something about not being a part of it, but I’m not sure. Ma’am does all the controlling of that. I’m only supposed to keep people here in good health.”