by J. D. Sloane
“Sure,” Alicia said, leaning back in her chair. “Why not? And are you willing to talk to me about that program today?”
“Of course. I love discussing my work with like-minded individuals.”
“But not on the record.”
“I’d prefer not. At least not today. If that’s all right with you?”
“It’s fine with me, Dr. Cain. But if I’m not convinced, trust me, the public won’t be nearly as polite as I am about asking for answers.”
“Yes, of course. That’s always a concern.”
Alicia’s eyes narrowed as Cain gave her a sudden searching look and then stood up behind the desk, taping his lips like a professor holding a well-loved lecture for a captive audience.
“Can I ask how much you know about pharmaceuticals as punishment, Miss Gale?”
Alicia re-crossed her legs and then shrugged, tapping her nails on the edge of the desk.
“Only that they’re not considered to be very reliable. The rescind rate is very high among the released.”
“That’s true. But do you know why?”
“I would guess that it’s because people can always find a way to not take them. It’s the same reason it’s difficult to keep the mentally ill medicated. They start feeling better and stop taking the drugs. Which in the case of criminals, can be very dangerous.”
“Very good, Alicia. That’s exactly the problem. But what if they simply couldn’t stop taking the drugs? What if someone devised a way to make that impossible?”
Alicia raised her brows and smirked, the irony in her expression evaporating beneath the strange, detached intensity of Cain’s glare.
“Then I would say good luck with that,” Alicia said, brushing her hair behind one ear as she tried not to reach for her cigarettes. “Forced injections, implants, all of those things are reversible. And pretty unreliable. Plus, they kind of dance around that nasty little strange and unusual punishment thing citizens seem to hold so dear.”
“Ah, yes. So dear that we are willing to let rapists and murders and child molesters back on the street to harm us again and again. Like some kind of amusement park for the damned.”
“And you have a better idea?”
Cain held up his hand gave her that wide, warm smile again. The one that made her feel like beetles were crawling all over her skin for no reason she could easily place.
“I wish I could take credit for the idea, Alicia. I truly do. But what we are doing here is simply a very controlled, sophisticated version of a very old concept.”
“What concept?”
“That the mind sometimes wants to go to places it should not go,” he said, his voice suddenly engaged and animated. “We see that in criminals repeatedly. Their minds work differently than ours, Miss Gale. And whether that begins as an inclination that is solidified by abuse or trauma, or if people are simply born monsters, the mind creates a path, a path to evil. And once it creates it, it revisits it, over and over and over until the damage is so deep it can’t be undone.”
Alicia followed him with her eyes as he paused at the corner of the desk and leaned forward as she met his eyes.
“Okay. So what you’re saying is that thinking about crime or committing the same crime over and over creates a kind of mental rut. Is that what you mean?”
Cain held up his finger towards her, his pale blue eyes shining with an affability that seemed almost genuine.
“It’s exactly what I mean. And not just in metaphor. In reality. But what if we could find a way to track those paths and then simply deny the mind access to them. Hmm? What then?”
“I’m not sure that it would be possible. Certainly not with any drugs we know about currently. And not without causing some kind of damage.”
“A very slight, controlled damage, Miss Gale. That’s what I’m talking about. I’m talking about tracking the very paths of the human mind and then creating a very specific kind of- mental cave-in. One that closes access to the path with very little damage to the surrounding tissues.”
“That sounds a lot like a lobotomy.”
Cain let out a deep sigh and turned to her from the window.
“People hate that word. Which is why we can’t use it. But the techniques we are using depend very deeply on that idea. The disconnection of the thought from the ability to act on it. That is what we’re doing here. That’s what this entire wing is for.”
Alicia looked around the room, her fingers freezing in midair and then looked at Dula, his expression so calm and unconcerned that she felt a brief wave of unreality sweep through her.
“You’re-you’re lobotomizing men in this wing? Is that what you’re doing?”
“No,” Cain said, letting out a slight laugh that sent shivers right to the base of her spine. “No, of course not. Who would sign a consent form to allow themselves to be lobotomized? No, that was a very unfortunate, primitive version of what we are doing here. With our prisoners consent we simply map out those negative paths and then use lasers to alter it. Or cauterize it completely depending on how deep the damage is.”
“All of them? All of the prisoners consent to this?”
“No, not all. Some simply consent to the testing which allows us to track the pleasure centers in their minds. We give them the drugs and then expose them to particular- stimuli in order to map out these divergent paths. That with the counseling seems to very therapeutic.”
“But that’s your plan? To do this kind of surgery on them? All of them?”
“We are always hopeful, Miss Gale. We hope that through the example of their peers we can convince them that our program is worth it. After all, it does come with a guaranteed release clause.”
Alicia looked up as Dula walked behind the desk and felt her stomach clench as she looked between them quickly, her mind racing forward as Cain gave her a small, benevolent smile that never quite reached his eyes.
“Ronan would never agree to that,” she said, her voice sounding small and hollow to her own ears as Cain pursed his lips and then shrugged. “I know that he wouldn’t.”
“Well. Maybe his desire to get healthy just runs deeper than you think. The human mind can only handle so much misery and darkness, Miss Gale. Even a devoted criminal like White has his limits.”
“You’re lying,” Alicia said raising her voice, the ferocity of her anger catching her completely off guard as she dug her nails into the palm of her hand. “I know him, Mr. Cain. And if you think I’m going to believe for one second that this was a voluntary agreement, then you’re crazier than your patients are.”
Cain sighed and then gestured towards Dula with one hand, his face becoming bored and impatient.
“No need for name-calling, Alicia,” Dula said opening one of the cabinet drawers. “I assure you we received White’s full, witnessed consent to treatment. It was one of the board’s conditions for allowing this interview to continue. That and the guaranteed exclusion of this wing and our research from any footage that airs.”
Alicia felt her mouth run dry and tried to remember what she wanted to say next, the words dying on her lips as Cain tilted his head at her, his flat gray eyes filling with a triumphant kind of malice.
“You’re crazy if you think I’d agree to that,” she said swallowing hard and Cain shook his head, looking at her as if she’d done something to disappoint him. “No reporter would. This city deserves to know what’s happening here. If we don’t run it, you can bet your ass someone else will.”
“I suppose we’ll simply have to take our chances then,” he said, his voice calm and even as Dula handed him a short stack of papers. “I agreed to speak with you only in acknowledgement of all the hard work Warden Dula has assured me you’ve put in.”
Alicia looked down as Dr. Cain held the papers out to her across the desk as if granting a benediction.
“And I know this isn’t strictly to the letter, Miss Gale, but I hear you and Mr. White have developed quite a bon
d over the past few weeks. Would it help put your mind at ease at all to see his signed consent forms?”
Chapter Eight
Alicia tapped at her keyboard rapidly and then arched her back at her desk, glancing up at the clock as she reached for one of her files.
I can’t believe they almost got away with this, she thought pushing back from the monitor as she saved her work. And I’m not convinced that no one but Ronan put it together either. Something tells me that Dula’s reach is a lot farther than he lets on.
She poured herself a cup of coffee, glancing towards the hall as she heard someone unlock the station door and then swept up her stuff and stepped around the corner, craning her neck around the wall to her office automatically as she saw all the lights flicker on.
“Lance?”
Alicia sighed as she realized that it was almost 2:30 AM and brushed her hair out of her eyes, stepping around the corner as she saw a shadow pass into the opposite room.
“Too late,” Alicia said, setting down her folder and coffee as she cracked her neck and then pulled her story up again with a brisk staccato of finger tapping. “It’s almost three. I knew you were bullshitting about being in at 2AM every Sunday. Consider your bluff permanently…”
She broke off awkwardly as Matt stepped into the room and stood in the shadows of the overhead cabinets, staring at her with such a flat expression of hatred that she felt her stomach flip. She opened her mouth to speak and then felt her anxiety cross over into indignation as he ignored her and walked over to the desk next to hers, yanking out the shared file cabinets as he shoved past her.
“What are you doing?” She asked carefully as Matt began pawing through her desk, jerking the drawers open so forcefully one of her picture frames toppled to the floor. She reached for his arm as Matt yanked a file out of the cabinet below her desk and he jerked it away from her without turning, flipping the file open angrily before hurling it towards his feet.
“Are you fucking drunk? I need those. They’re important!”
“No, you don’t, Alicia,” Matt said, stepping around the desk at her as she sidestepped him around a pile of loose papers and notebooks. “You really don’t. Because you’re done. You are done here. I don’t even want you in this office. Get out now before I have security throw you out.”
Alicia flinched as she got her first good look at the right side of his face and took a step forward without thinking, the long line of bruises covering him from eye to chin darkening his cheek to an ugly greenish purple.
“Christ Matt, what happened?” She said, swallowing hard as she noticed the deep, open cut below one eye. “Were you in an accident?”
Matt gave her a low, derisive laugh and then overturned another drawer and tossed it towards her feet.
“Like you don’t know,” he said, his eyes suddenly so wild and enraged that she stepped backwards, giving him a wide berth as he walked in front of her desk.
“I don’t,” she said, trying to keep her voice strong and steady while Matt tilted his head at her, his red-rimmed eyes following her around the wall as she moved. “And we’ve already discussed why you won’t be firing me. You come at me and I go to the owners. And then the police. It’s as simple as that.”
Matt leaned forward, resting his hand on the desk and then made a quick flicking motion over the right side of his face, clenching his jaw so tightly she heard his teeth grind together.
“Oh, that was before this,” he hissed. “Before you had your boyfriend tune me up in the parking lot down the street. Do you like that? Do you? Well take a good look, Alicia. Because this is the last time you’re going to see my face without a lawyer present. You want to run to the owners, go ahead. We’ll see which one of us they believe. After they hear firsthand how you and White spent all those precious company hours alone.”
Alicia blinked quickly, her face filling with one moment of absolute surprise and then closed her mouth as she thought of the way Ronan had looked at her when she told him about Matt hitting her, his eyes moving over her so thoughtfully it was almost a caress. She thought of how he had turned his head, glancing at her out of the corner of his eyes as he casually pumped her for information and then pressed her lips together as she blushed, a strange mix of disbelief and embarrassment rushing through her as Matt made his way to the last drawer of her desk.
But that’s not all, is it? A small, vicious voice in the bottom of her mind piped in, making her skin crawl with goosebumps as her mind filled with a sudden vivid image of Ronan sliding his hands through her hair. No. Part of you is so happy you hate yourself for it. And he saw that, didn’t he? Ronan looked into your eyes and saw everything terrible you’ve been hiding about yourself all your life and then just gave that girl what she wanted. No questions, no judgement. He feed her as casually as a zookeeper tossing a bloody handful of meat to some dangerous, caged animal. That girl you thought you’d hidden away forever back in the middle of that storm. The one who crawled to the top of the embankment just to see what she could see…
“I didn’t tell him to do that, Matt,” Alicia said, her voice low and stiff. “You can’t believe that I did.”
“Doesn’t matter what I believe, does it?” Matt said, flashing her a smirk that his injuries seem to pull into an unpleasant sneer. “The owners will believe it. The public will believe it. The station’s lawyers will believe it. It doesn’t matter what you say now. Your hands are all over this. And if you make me, if you keep coming around and telling your pathetic story to anyone that’ll listen, I’ll make sure that losing your job is the least of your worries. Think felony assault, Alicia. Think actual jail time. And then tell me if you finally understand what it means to lay down with dogs.”
Alicia looked up at Matt quickly, trying not to look as alarmed as she felt, and Matt raised his brows, shaking his head in light disgust.
“Yeah. That’s what I thought. Go now. Before they come back. And leave your resignation on my desk. Don’t expect any glowing recommendations, but if you go quietly, I promise I’ll keep my mouth shut about this. And that’s the best offer you’re going to get. From anyone.”
Alicia shoved her hair behind her ear and then walked over to the left of her desk, clearing the top drawer out rapidly as he took a step backwards.
“I didn’t tell him to do it,” Alicia said, blinking back angry tears as she scooped up a handful of notes and stuffed them into her bag before kneeling to pick up one of her folders. “I wouldn’t do that. But you can’t block this story, Matt. You can’t. It’s too big. What Dula is doing up there, what the police did to put Ronan in jail- that’s news. It’s important. You want to hate me, fine. Hate me. But this is bigger than you and me and you know it. And if you won’t run it, I’ll find someone that will.”
Matt looked down at her, looking her over for a moment as if trying to decide if she was telling the truth or not and then smiled slowly at her, his face filling with so much malice that she felt her stomach flip.
“Who says we’re not going to run it?”
Alicia blinked at him, her fingers closing around the stack of papers in her hand hard enough to shred them.
“What do you mean you’re going to run it?” She asked her voice clipped and flat.
“I mean that the interview’s still on, Alicia. End of the week. Same as before. The only one who’s out is you.”
Alicia stood up slowly, the blood draining from her face and Matt tapped the side of his temple as he gave her a wink, the expression so grotesque she flinched.
“It’s my story, Matt. I did all the background. The entire thing was my idea, mine…”
“Background, that’s funny. It really is. No, you were right the first time Alicia. This story is too big to pass up. Piper practically kissed me on the lips when I told her you were bowing out. It might be the biggest interview all year. Bigger than Trump even.”
“He wouldn’t agree to that,” Alicia said, swallowing hard as Matt leaned toward
s her, his eyes narrowing. “I know that he wouldn’t.”
“You mean White? You mean that he wouldn’t betray you that way? After all you’ve meant to him?”
Alicia felt her throat tighten in humiliation as Matt laughed, turning his back on her as he reached for another stack of files.
“Well, I hate to be the first to tell you, Alicia, but he already knows. And he didn’t seem too broken up about it either, from what I hear. Definitely not enough to cancel the interview. Oh well. So much for tender love stories, I guess. Maybe the next lunatic criminal you cross paths with will be a little more loyal to you.”
Alicia flinched as Matt picked up a stack of files and slammed them into a box on the chair beside him.
“But then again, maybe not. I really don’t give a shit.”
She glanced towards the hall as she saw Lance turn the corner to the office and took a deep breath as Matt glanced over his shoulder, his expression thinning out into one of bored annoyance.
“You’re not forcing me out, Matt,” Alicia said as she saw Lance step into the room out of the corner of her eye. “I’m not quitting. I don’t care what you threaten me with.”
Matt ran his tongue across his upper teeth and then sneered as Lance stepped up next to her, picking up his box of files with a casual shrug.
“Oh, I think you’re the only one making the threats here, Alicia. But I would take the next 24 hours to reconsider it if I were you. After that, you should get ready to explain a whole lot of things to a whole lot of people. The owners are the just the beginning of it. And all they can do is fire you.”
Alicia felt her teeth slam together as Matt stomped out of the office, his face darkening with contempt. She turned her head as Lance touched her arm and then stepped away from him as she walked over to her computer, locking her screen without turning.