“Great. Great. So you see now there’s nothing to worry about. Each day, you’ll spend two hours in the same type of session. You’ll probably even start looking forward to it.”
“Cool. I’m already looking forward to it.”
“Great! Go ahead and get dressed and I’ll walk you to your next session. You get to keep your clothes on for this one.” Gerald laughed.
“Can I have my own clothes?”
“Umm, let me find out. Just a sec…” Gerald put a wireless bud in his ear and tapped a few buttons on his desk console. Dr. Fielding answered.
“Yes?”
“Would it be okay for Deron to wear his own clothes? He’s doing very well and he’s ready for his social group. Everyone else will be dressed there.”
“I suppose that would be best – although he certainly doesn’t deserve them yet.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
Fielding said he’d send someone with the clothes and Gerald tapped a button and removed the earbud.
A short while later, after Deron was dressed, Gerald walked him down several halls until they came to a door. Deron heard a click in the door, then Gerald opened it and gestured for him to enter.
This room looked like a recreation center. It was long and rectangular with partial dividers separating the area into multiple sections. The left side looked like a cafeteria. Gerald walked Deron to the center of the right side of the room from which they could see into each smaller section.
“Your job for the next few hours is to have fun. How do you like that? After a while, someone will bring lunch in.”
Gerald left the room and Deron looked around. Three of the four quadrants were occupied. He walked toward the empty one which was furnished with couches, floor pillows, lamps, a large bookshelf, and a small stack of slate computers.
One of the other quads had a large screen TV and a young male playing a virtual racing game, the partial race car tilting and bouncing. Another quad was populated by a young female watching a romantic comedy. The last quad had another male running on a treadmill.
Although Deron was naturally drawn toward the books, he had no intention of reading. It was one of the few times he didn’t want to read. Neither was he inclined to walk up to any of the three strangers.
He sat on the couch and relaxed for a moment, then he realized that this wasn’t just recreational time. Their interactions would be monitored for their progress with socialization. He knew he needed to talk to someone, but he was also afraid of playing the part of a happy, well-adjusted teen too well, or too soon. They’d know he was faking it. So he decided to act a little bit interested in talking to someone, but not overly so.
He got up and slowly walked through the center of the room. It was easy to ignore the girl watching the movie. Who’d want to sit down mid-way through a movie they knew nothing about? Besides, a person watching a movie probably wouldn’t appreciate someone trying to strike up a conversation.
He went into the room with exercise equipment and looked around at his options. If he hadn’t just gotten out of the isolation tube and fully dried himself, he would’ve been inclined to use the Swimulator, but instead, he grabbed some free weights and started curling.
The guy on the treadmill looked at him but didn’t say anything. After a few minutes, he turned off the machine and introduced himself.
“Hey. I’m Michael.”
“Deron.”
“What they’d get you for?” Michael asked.
“Isn’t it the same for everyone? Candidates for Future Sociopaths of America?”
“I guess it is. That’s what they said to me too. But it’s total bullshit. I’d rather not even deal with anyone at all, and that includes not wanting to be anti-social toward anyone.”
Deron laughed.
“What?”
“It just sounds funny. Not wanting to deal with people and not wanting to be anti-social toward them,” Deron answered.
“Oh. I see what you mean.” Michael chuckled. “I meant I don’t want to be anti-social in a sociopathic way. Ya know? I’m not out to fuck anyone over or anything. I just value my time and like to do what I want to do, rather than what other people want me to do. I’m very purpose-oriented and most people aren’t. That annoys me.”
“What do you most like to do with your time?”
“I play piano and I compose. I also like to read, work out and go hiking. I just prefer doing all of those things alone, so I guess that makes them think I’m going to turn into a psycho someday. If anyone is mental, it’s the people who decided we need to be here.”
“I think they have good intentions, but they probably could’ve picked people who were at greater risk of posing a threat to society than us.” Deron was in total agreement with Michael, but he was aware that along with video surveillance, there would be audio as well.
“No kidding. I know some seriously fucked up people and I don’t see any of them in here.”
“I think that’s the thing. They’re looking to keep us from becoming seriously fucked up. So maybe it won’t be that bad. Besides, the food is great, and this is a pretty nice place to chill for a few hours.”
Michael looked at Deron like he was a kiss-ass. “Do you really like it here? You’re not pissed off at being locked up without even committing a crime first?”
“I’m totally not happy about the way I was brought here, but so far, it’s not so bad. The isolation chamber was pretty cool. I love to read and there’s a library here with real books, so I figure I’m pretty lucky as far as that goes.” Deron put the weights down. “I’m gonna see if I can get in on that racing sim.”
“Good luck,” Michael said, and lowered himself onto one of the floor mats and began doing sit-ups.
Dr. Fielding turned to Gerald and said, “Not bad, after only one session. I think he’s showing promise already. Go ahead with Level 2 entrainment. And double his sessions.”
“After just one day? Are you sure?”
“Yes. I think Deron might advance faster than the others and the risks will be minimal.”
“You’re the boss,” Gerald said, but suspected that there was a vindictive motivation for Fielding’s decision.
Twenty-five
After recreation, food was wheeled in and placed on one of the several tables. The teens, now gathered in one place, introduced themselves while they ate.
“I’m Chad,” the short guy who had been playing the racing game said. “Don’t think that just because I’m in here, I’m some kind of fuck-up like you guys. They made a mistake with me.”
“Right,” Michael said. “Astute of you to notice though that we definitely are fuck-ups. No mistakes when it came to us, fuck you, very much.”
“We’ll see who’s a fuck-up when my dad gets me out of this place. He has a whole team of lawyers. I’ll be gone by tomorrow. Watch.”
“I’m really happy for you,” the girl said.
“I’m Deron. What’s your name?”
“Jacey,” she replied, leaning back in her chair and biting into an apple.
Chad looked annoyed. “J.C. as in Jesus Christ?”
Jacey glanced at him without responding then resumed eating her apple.
“Nice to meet you, Jacey. How long have you guys been here?”
Chad said, “Since yesterday.”
“Me too,” Michael added.
Deron looked at Jacey and she nodded.
“I wonder if we’re the start of a new group, or if the program is new and we’re the first,” Deron said.
“Who cares?” said Chad.
“Right. I guess it doesn’t matter to you because you’ll be gone tomorrow.”
“You got that right. I’m getting the fuck out of here. I don’t care what these jerks say, I’m not a fucking sociopath. I come from a very wealthy family with a lot of influence. They’re going to seriously regret dragging me in here.”
“I’m sure the government is quaking in its figurative boots,” Jacey said. “An
d in case you didn’t notice, everyone is wealthy now, so you’re not special anymore.”
Chad scowled at her, then grabbed a banana and moved to another table on the other side of the room.
“Hi Jacey. I’m Michael.”
“Hey,” she said.
“I’d ask what you did, but since this isn’t jail, that would sound funny. Any idea what it is about your personality or behavior that caused them to select you?” Michael asked, looking at Jacey.
Jacey thought while she chewed, then said, “Maybe because I speak my mind without worrying about whether some special snowflake is gonna get their precious little feelings hurt. I have no tolerance for political correctness, which is actually social censorship. It has nothing to do with politics or being correct about anything.”
“Maybe it’s because of your hair,” Chad said loudly.
“Fuck you,” Jacey replied. “If they had a problem with purple, spiked hair, they could’ve just taken me to a stylist, or passed another law, like usual. They wouldn’t put someone in a rehabilitation program just to change their fucking hairstyle, genius.”
“But they might, to make you want to change it,” Deron said.
Jacey glared at Deron.
“I was kidding. I think Chad’s just as stupid as you do.”
“You know, I can hear you assholes loud and clear over here.”
“Pretend you’re deaf and dumb and shut the fuck up?” Jacey said.
Michael and Deron laughed. Chad turned his back to them and pushed his food tray away, muttering to himself.
After a while, Dr. Fielding arrived with two guards in tow. Chad looked up as though he expected they had come to get him to let him go home. He started to get up.
“Please remain seated,” Dr. Fielding ordered.
Chad sat back down.
“Each of you will have a two hour therapy session with your counselors. Please wash up and return to your therapist’s office. Thank you.” He left the room but the guards stayed behind.
Three of them got up and headed toward the guards. Deron piled his refuse on his tray and carried it over to a trash bin, discarded the trash and put the tray on top along with other trays, then joined the others.
“Follow me,” one of the guards said, and both of them began walking toward the door.
“What if I follow him?” Jacey asked, pointing at the other guard.
The guard didn’t respond and continued walking until they reached an office. They stopped and Michael went inside. They continued down the hall, turning at the first corner. When they reached the next office, all of them stood there.
“Chad Parker, this is your stop.”
Chad sneered at the guard as he walked past him and opened the door to the office. Deron recognized the next office they came to as Gerald’s.
“See ya later,” he said to Jacey.
“Yeah. Later,” she replied, and resumed following the guards down the hall.
Deron entered and found Gerald waiting at his desk, patient and smiling.
“So… make any friends?”
“Not really,” Deron replied, “but they seem okay. Except for Chad. He’s kind of a dick.”
“He’ll get better. It’s only been one day. We don’t anticipate improvement in attitudes until at least a week. Although I must say, you’re doing very well, Deron.”
“Thanks, I guess. But I don’t feel like I’m doing anything other than just being here.”
“And how do you feel about that? About being here?”
Deron thought fast, then replied. “I resent the way it was done – dragging me out of school like that, and drugging me, or whatever they did to knock me out, but now that I’m here, I look forward to improving myself.”
“Good. That’s really good, Deron. And you know, the only reason they incapacitated you was because you attempted to flee. It would’ve been tragically ironic if you had gone from borderline antisocial to actively antisocial due to the act of intervention. We couldn’t risk adding a criminal to the population while trying to prevent one. Does that make sense?”
“I guess, but couldn’t they have just come to my house and spoken with me and my mom? Talk about being antisocial – these guys came to my school, knocked me out, then locked me up – and all of this with no explanation of what was going on at all. So yeah, I resent that, and I think your recruitment methods are pretty fucking Neanderthal.”
“You have valid points, Deron. There’s definitely room for improvement, and I apologize for the rough approach.” Gerald looked at Deron for a moment, giving him a chance to respond before moving on to the next item on his agenda. He opened a drawer and pulled out a slate computer. He turned it on, tapped some keys, waited a few seconds, then handed it to Deron. “Here. I need you to answer some survey questions.”
Deron took the device and rested it on his lap.
“If you’d like external display, hit the icon near the top left corner that looks like sun rays beaming up to a rectangle.”
Deron tapped the key and activated the holographic screen that projected out to where a laptop screen would’ve been, only larger.
“If you touch the same icon and slide your finger upwards—“
“I know. The holo-screen gets bigger. My teacher has one of these.”
“Okay. Great. Go ahead and go through those questions for me, and just answer spontaneously. No need to consider them for very long.”
Deron read the first question:
1. Is violence by civilians ever justified when it’s not an act of self-defense?
Twenty-six
Drake cursed as he followed the curving onramp onto the freeway. “Stupid little cocktease. I oughta turn around, go back to your house, and show you what happens when you lead someone on like that. You’re playing with fire, you little bitch.”
He looked down at the slate computer sitting on the passenger seat with the work order displayed. He looked at Mitzi’s address. “When I find a way, I’m coming back for you.”
After he had finished setting up the TV in the living room, he went to the back patio to ask about the bedroom TV. He could have found it himself in the small apartment, but it was the only excuse he could come up with to go check out Mitzi on the patio.
He opened the sliding glass door, stepped out and saw her lying face down on a chaise lounge. He asked where the second TV was that she requested service on, and without moving or even turning her head to look at him, she just said, “It’s at the end of the hall. You can’t miss it.”
He setup the second TV quickly, eager to get back to her. She had completely ignored him, but he considered that might have been because she knew he was still busy. Maybe she’d act differently once the work was done. But when he went back to tell her that everything was finished, she just said, “Thank you, very much” without even turning to face him.
Trying to draw her out and delay leaving, he asked if she needed any help with the remote control, or channel guide navigation or setting up facial recognition or anything. She said she was very familiar with it, and thanked him again. It sounded like she was trying to go to sleep and he was just an annoyance, keeping her awake.
He drove home angry and aroused. The combination was powerful and disturbing. He was determined to do something about it.
When he got home, he turned on his TV and browsed to Adult Services, subcategory Intimate Companions. He drilled down through the categories, selecting body type, hair color, and so on, finally selecting the girl who most appealed to him. She had a platinum blonde pixie hairstyle and looked small and frail, almost like an elf.
He had thought of doing this many times, but had never been able to follow through. He wasn’t too shy to schedule a session with a prostitute, but he was embarrassed to do so with his Adult Benefits Transfer card. It was humiliating to not be able to afford a sex worker with his own income and having to rely on government welfare. But he had the presence of mind to realize he was in the exact situation that the se
rvice was intended for.
He was single, unattractive, lacked social skills, not interesting, and in desperate need of adult companionship. He was also angry. The legislators who introduced the program argued that if people could hire sex workers, then the crime of rape could be eliminated. They further reasoned that merely legalizing prostitution was insufficient. Not everyone could afford it. And so the ABT was tacked on as an additional measure to reduce crime and increase equality.
Drake highlighted the word Schedule and chose the time option Next Available. Text appeared on the screen informing him that the estimated time of arrival was less than two hours. He was then prompted to make a deposit, with accompanying text informing him that this would cover the minimum fee, and that patrons were encouraged to show their appreciation at the conclusion of their visit with a gratuity that was not payable with ABT funds.
Drake told himself that with the government picking up the main tab, his embarrassment would be lessened by paying the tip himself. Since he had time, and he was hungry, he browsed to Restaurants and ordered a pizza and beer for delivery. He wondered for a second if he should shower while waiting for the food and sex he’d just ordered. But he said to himself, “Screw it. She’s just a whore.”
***
Michelle got bored with having the entire house to herself and nothing to do. She’d routinely be at Jenny’s on a Saturday or have Jenny over to her house; especially with her parents out of the country. It was an ideal time for a teen to have a friend over, if not a full-blown party.
Thoughts of Jenny led to thoughts of clothes, and that led to thinking about her wardrobe. She decided that some change was in order. Since she wasn’t going to be hanging around Jenny and her entourage anymore, she wanted to get some sensible clothing. She was sticking to her decision to change her friends, her life, and her lifestyle. What better way to start than with a new wardrobe?
Riding the bus in normal clothing was a completely different experience. Men still noticed her, as they always did, but at least now they weren’t looking at her as if she was a piece of flame-broiled meat they were eager to consume. They were paying more attention to the video ads in the back of the seats in front of them. The print and video ads on the bus were very provocative and Michelle was relieved that she wasn’t in competition with them as she had been last night.
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