I don’t get far when a laser shower strikes inches away from my head, scorching the grass, and a loud, mechanical voice orders, ‘Stand still!’
So that’s why the droids haven’t moved!
How many guards are there? I see only one, crunching its way towards me through the trees, its eyes burning like fire, its huge, metal hands snapping like pincers. For a moment I’m rooted to the spot, then I’m on the move again.
POW! Another beam misses my back foot. I stumble, but I’m determined not go down without a fight. It’ll most likely catch me, and kill me. Being dead is better than living out my days in Number Forty Institution, but then again I might just make it!
‘You have three seconds to give yourself up!’ it states.
‘Or what, metal nuts?’ I stick up two fingers at it before legging it into the forest.
Boom! Boom! Boom! The ground shakes beneath me as the robot chases me through the trees. It knocks them out of its way as easily as I might knock over a bottle. With every step it takes it gets closer, its beams flying at me from all angles. The forest is thick, branches smack my face, but I keep going.
I try to outwit it. I dodge this way and that, in and out of tree trunks. I hear the sound of cracking behind me: it’s felling more trees to clear its path. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see another machine heading my way: reinforcements! Now I have nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. I collapse in the undergrowth, sweating, panting, and soon I’m looking up at two metal giants, before my world turns black. I’m a dead man for sure.
I’m not dead. I’m back on the ward with a sore tongue. Hudson looks down at me, a tray of soup on his lap, shaking his head. ‘Told you,’ he says. I think he’s disappointed for me.
I become an overnight hero for at least trying to get away. Even Kappelhoff says he’s sorry, but I blacken his eye for squealing on me, getting a shock as a reward.
Chase calls me a troublemaker, and acts on Alexander’s advice by having me sedated. At first I refuse, fighting and lashing out, but the nuns hold me down, so Sister Augusta can inject me in the arm. This happens every morning for a week, until I simply accept my fate, and roll up my sleeve.
‘I’m glad you’ve seen sense at last, Mr Travis,’ says Sister, throwing the used needle into a yellow bucket.
Sedation makes me sleepy and confused. I spend my days in a sort of dream world, with echoing voices, rooms spinning, and faces sweeping in and out of focus. Dr Alexander comes and goes. I haven’t the strength to be awkward. I bet he’s pleased to have me where he wants me. I hear the word ‘calmer’ a few times, but the fits keep coming. I’ve started to have funny visions now, too, crazy episodes where I walk in soft, gritty, golden dust which feels cool beneath my bare feet as water washes over it. It looks like the sea from the picture books. I’m wandering amongst people who are barely dressed. Some of them are near-naked girls, which makes me smile. Now I’m in a street with people wearing colourful clothes; oddly-shaped cars pass along the road, buildings rise tall in the sky, and there isn’t a robot in sight. There are no fires burning in the streets, either. It’s a world I’d like to know better, if it were real.
Then suddenly I’m back in bed, my limbs heavy like lead, the usual post-seizure feeling. I’m not often aware of anything during a fit; I don’t usually have visions. I’ve no idea what they mean.
After one of these episodes Professor Chase stands at the bottom of my bed with Mother Superior and Dr Alexander. The only other person in the ward is a nun sorting out linen.
‘The seizures are getting more violent and more prolonged, and we are spending more time on the care of this boy each day,’ says Chase. ‘I think we should increase the medication.’
‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea,’ replies Alexander. ‘The Valerian sedative can very powerful if the dose is too high, and we’re combining it with Tegretol. I suspect both drugs are reacting badly with one another. Perhaps if we took him off the Valerian...’
‘No!’ snaps Chase. ‘It keeps him passive. I just think his condition has worsened.’
‘There is another possibility, sir,’ says Mother Superior.
‘Well?’
‘You could always consider surgery.’
A shot of electricity tingles through my body that has nothing to do with the probe. I open my mouth to speak, but the words won’t come out.
‘But epileptic surgery hasn’t been carried out in decades,’ protests Alexander. ‘You know very well it was outlawed in twenty forty-nine after the death rate increased. Anyway, there’s no one alive trained to carry out such a procedure.’
‘That’s where you are wrong, Dr Alexander,’ sneers Chase. ‘My methods are a little unorthodox, but I will rid the boy of this scourge once and for all.’
‘And if you do, will Travis be allowed to leave the institution? If it’s a success it will render him clean.’
Chase smiles. ‘How would we explain that to the inspectors? Besides,’ he shrugs his shoulders, ‘the boy will very likely suffer some mental defects as a result. Parts of the brain may need some extensive work. His condition might be cured, but the side effects could be severe. At least we’ll save on the medication.’
I open my mouth and scream.
Hudson asks urgently if I’m all right. Just as well Alexander, Chase and the nun can’t hear us; Hudson isn’t even in the room. He doesn’t have to be, because we’re using a couple of thought pods he’s taken from Alexander’s office while he’s been in there cleaning.
‘Serves him right for not locking them away,’ laughs Hudson.
It’s the first time I’ve ever seen one up close, because only the richers can afford thought pods. They’re designed to do what it says on the publicity: you can communicate without being overheard. The authorities use them, so there’s no incentive to get them banned; anyway, most richers are in authority. Pods are small, flat, metallic objects, only as big as a thumbnail. I’ve no idea how Hudson has lifted them without being seen. The guards and the droids can’t detect them when they’re in use, because artificial life forms can’t think. Even so, pods can still be found outside the body with device detectors. It isn’t long before the nuns come to the ward to search us.
They make us strip off our clothes, but Hudson has hidden the pods well – under his tongue. I admire his guts, because soon we’re subjected to a body search.
While they’re busy examining Kappelhoff’s backside I feel the light touch of a finger against my hand. I close my fist over the pod stuck to the tip of Hudson’s finger. From what I’ve heard the best way to use a pod is to place it in the palm of your hand, and think about what you want to say, but as long as it touches the skin somewhere on the body it will work. Thoughts from the other person using a pod just drop into your head. Hudson’s thoughts come through loud and clear.
‘Put it in your mouth,’ he says. ‘Try not to let them see you, though.’
I cough, putting my hand over my mouth, and slip the pod on my tongue.
‘Now swallow it.’
‘Eh?
‘Swallow it!’
I gulp it down.
Having finished searching Kappelhoff the droids have moved to the next boy. I catch him gazing at me suspiciously as he dresses. Ignoring the command to stay in line he marches towards me. ‘What’s that you’ve just put in your gob?’
‘Nothing. Sod off, Kappelhoff!’
‘Get back in line, Mr Kappelhoff,’ barks a nun.
‘He put something in his mouth, Sister!’
‘Listen to the guy, will you?’ snaps Hudson. ‘There’s nothing in his gob.’ He grabs his wrist tightly. ‘Get lost, creep! You’ve got nothing on him, so bugger off!’
The nuns separate us, and we part, reeling from our shocks. I try to keep calm as a Sister inspects my mouth with the detector. At last she says, ‘Clear.’
Sister Augusta frowns at Kappelhoff. ‘I will talk to you later, Mr Kappelhoff.’
Kappelhoff watches us closely for a few days
, but we give nothing away. We’re able to chat without being spied on. The only thing we have to do is make sure we don’t crap the pods down the bog!
And I don’t fancy swallowing mine again after that!
My screams make Chase angry.
‘Shut him up,’ he barks at Mother Superior. ‘Use more Valerian.’
‘It’s all right,’ says Dr Alexander. ‘I’ll do it.’
He fills the syringe, and Chase and Mother Superior watch as he feeds the needle into my arm. I try to fight sleep long enough to tell Hudson about the surgery before the drug finally takes hold. His voice comes through faintly.
‘What’s going on?’ he asks. ‘How are you? I’ve just seen Alexander and Chase, but they won’t tell me anything. Hey, man, that seizure you had was something else!’
‘You could feel my seizure?’
‘Not only feel, but see. Your mind was empty, but at the same time it was like you were seeing people in your head, and talking to them, holding a conversation. It was fantastic!’
‘What was I saying?’
‘I couldn’t make sense of a lot of it, but I heard the words “two thousand and nine”. The pictures were a bit jumbled, but I think I saw the sea, and a beach.’
Two thousand and nine is just a number; it means nothing to me. I lie back on the pillows, staring into space, feeling myself getting drowsier.
‘I’m OK; still weak, but better. They’ve sedated me, so I haven’t got long. Chase wants to operate on my brain. Epileptic surgery, it’s called. Alexander disagrees. He says it’s dangerous, because a lot of people died from surgery years ago. The doctor at the hospital said that, too. It’s outlawed, but Chase wants to do it, and soon, I think. I need...’ my eyes are closing, ‘...to get away...’
‘Travis! Travis!’ calls Hudson, but I’m drifting away.
3. Escape
I open my eyes and see the droid nun, still sorting out the linen. It seems like only a few minutes have passed since falling asleep, which makes me believe that the drug Alexander has given me is not strong enough to send me off completely. I’m surprised when he suddenly appears at the door.
‘Leave the linen, Sister Eugenie,’ he says to the droid. ‘Professor Chase wants to see you.’
When I see the nun looking at me I close my eyes to make her think I’m fast asleep.
‘Don’t worry. I’ll stay with Travis. I need to do some tests on him, anyway.’
I open an eye slightly, and watch her leave the ward. Alexander comes to my bed. I may not feel sleepy any more, but I’m still dazed. I sit up. ‘What’s...?’
‘Quiet,’ he mouths, placing his finger on my lips. He puts his mouth close to my ear, but he doesn’t speak. ‘Where is it?’ His thoughts penetrate my mind. ‘The pod, Travis; where’s the pod? I know you have one.’
I hesitate. I don’t trust Alexander, but I don’t feel strong enough to lie to him, either.
‘Swallowed it. How did you know?’
‘One pod can track the thoughts transmitted by another if the signal is strong enough. Since they went missing I’ve been trying to track them. I’ve been able to pick up on bits of your conversations with Hudson. Oh, don’t worry,’ Alexander adds as I try to interrupt, ‘I’m not going to report you. The droids can only detect your behaviour through the probes, not your thoughts, but Chase has a pod. Luckily for you he can’t have been using it recently; otherwise you’d both be in trouble.’
It hasn’t occurred to me that Chase can detect us with a pod of his own!
‘Well, now what?’ I ask.
‘Now we get you out of here,’ replies Alexander. ‘Chase is serious about this operation. I can’t let it go ahead. You’ll die.’
‘There is no way out!’
‘There is! Travis, your seizures can set you free!’
My eyes widen.
‘Like Hudson, I could tell what was going on in your head when you had that fit earlier today.’ Alexander is different; he’s animated, edgy, excited, a different person to his usual, stuffy self. I wonder if he’s bladdered. ‘It was a revelation! You went back to another time, many years before now, where the world was a better place. I’m not saying it was perfect, but there was no institutional suppression like there is today. No police state. You were in the year two thousand and nine. I looked it up in the history books, it was a socially and medically better place. The institutions didn’t exist then, and mental hospitals were short-term affairs. When you had your last episode you were walking along the seashore, it was a hot sunny day, and there were people on the beach, enjoying themselves. You were free. No robots. No droids. There were bad times, wars and famine in some parts of the planet, but law and order was all human, and in many places people were content.’
I’m too tired to argue. ‘You saw what I saw; so what? How will that set me free?’
‘Don’t you see, Travis?’ Alexander grips my hand. ‘You didn’t “dream” these things, you were actually there! You can’t see the past if you didn’t experience it! You did walk along the beach, and speak to these people. You went back to the year two thousand and nine. There’s something in your seizures which empowers your mind, to the extent that it can take you from one place to another!’
That’s it; he’s got to be drunk, crazy, or both! ‘So why do I always come back?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe your mind isn’t powerful enough to let you stay there, but I’m pretty sure I could make it work so you might never come back.’
I snort. ‘Say you’re right. My mind might go, but surely my body will stay behind. What about that? Won’t I need it?’
‘No, your body will go, too. You’ll be in two places at once. Oh, I know it’s hard to believe, but I have heard of this phenomenon before. In all cases epileptics lose a sense of time and place. In some isolated cases, however, and there have been reports of this in recent medical history, sufferers have stumbled into different worlds, witnessing lives they never would have witnessed, like they were drifting into some kind of parallel universe. I’ll put money on it the same thing is happening to you.’
‘But it never used to be like this!’ I interrupt. ‘It’s only since you started sedating me. I thought the drugs you were giving me were making me see things.’
‘No, it’s not the sedation. The seizures are getting more acute and powerful, and they’re the catalyst for your escape. I’m sure I can prove it!’
He presses the call button. A nun appears within seconds.
‘Fetch a wheelchair. Bring Travis to my office,’ he commands.
‘Why are we going to your office?’ I nearly say it aloud. ‘Can’t you prove whatever it is you want to prove here?’
‘I don’t have the necessary equipment here, and anyway, we’ll be seen in the ward. My office isn’t under surveillance. No one will see us there.’
‘Why should I trust you?’ The nun returns, helps me into the wheelchair, and wraps me in a blanket. ‘You had me sedated to make me behave! Why should I believe anything you say?’
‘Because I don’t want to see an injustice done, and right now I’m the only chance you’ve got of getting out of here.’ Alexander tells the Sister to wheel me out. ‘Now stop your thoughts until we get to my office. I don’t want to run the risk of being heard.’
Sister pushes me out of the ward, and we follow Alexander to his office.
‘Help him to the couch,’ he orders the nun.
I knock her hands away. ‘I can do it myself,’ I snap. ‘Pathetic, synthetic doll! Ouch!’ That one hurts more than usual.
‘Leave us,’ says Alexander.
‘I’ve got a headache,’ I whisper. ‘I want to talk now!’
He locks the door. ‘Keep using the pod. This place has ears.’
It’s then I realise he could get into serious trouble for trying to help me.
‘What are you going to do?’ I ask curiously.
‘I’m going to induce a seizure. Make it so powerful it will set you free. I’m going to use EC
T.’
I don’t like the sound of that. ‘But the seizures make me weak; and what’s – that you said? I’ve never heard of it.’
‘Electro-convulsive therapy,’ he clarifies. ‘Shock treatment, an old, but very effective remedy used to treat depressives in the old days. It’s not used today, of course; the equipment is antique. The machine was left to me by my grandfather, who was also a psychotherapist. It delivers electric shocks through your brain.’
I swallow. I sense his tension rising. ‘It sounds dangerous.’
‘No; it’s just a bit uncomfortable.’
He takes out a small, grey box from a cupboard, which has a screen and lots of dials. There’s a strip of paper flowing out of the side with squiggly lines printed on it. He puts it on a trolley, pushes it towards me, and switches it on. The screen lights up with words and figures I don’t understand.
I’m a mixture of emotions: scared, hopeful, confused. I can’t make up my mind which. I don’t want a seizure forced on me, but I’m desperate to get out of this place. What if it doesn’t work? I’ll be left sick and weak for nothing.
‘Can’t we just wait until I have a natural seizure on my own?’
‘I told you, it probably won’t be strong enough,’ replies Alexander, ‘and anyway, we may not have time. You may not have another one for days. Chase has probably set the wheels in motion for the operation already. We have to do this now.’
I worry about my body in this life, and what will happen to it when I’m gone. Alexander doesn’t look at me while he fiddles with the dials. ‘I honestly don’t know what will happen to you here, Travis. It won’t be a magic disappearing act. If this works, it won’t really matter, will it?’
My heart thuds. It matters to me. I’m scared Chase will write me off as dead, and bury me alive. Alexander might not be able to stop him.
‘Try to relax, Travis.’
I sink back against the pillows, letting my mind drift towards thoughts of Hudson. He isn’t thinking back. Alexander intercepts.
‘He can’t go with you if that’s what you want.’
Epiworld Page 3