by Kevin Dwyer
(on the far out skirts of Bath), it was now a cold and stormy night. Thus it is always is in such stories, making the reader want to curl up in a cosy place and pretend the cold harsh teeth of reality do not exist and are no going to bite home. Professor Hauser sat at his desk tightly bound within his own circumstances. Vision Corp. had made him an offer, a very generous offer in fact, in order to try out their new medicine. He knew the score on this, many of the drugs they had previously supplied had killed the patients more effectively than their own termination department. The CEO of Vision had phoned him that very morning, at home on his day off and with vast promises of efficacy of the new drug, and even vaster amounts of subsidy. The doctor knew he was going nowhere fast with his current treatments.
Rob Banks had led Vision for six years now and to do credit to the company some of the drugs did work. The man himself was an ocean of positivity and enthusiasm which probably swayed the Professor more than the general necessity or even the fact that he hadn’t any acceptable alternatives. It gave him some optimism again, and that he was sorely lacking. If it had not been for Rob Banks and his new drug Insanidol, perhaps the professor would have lulled into some sort of depression of his own. However, something did suggest to him that some of the corporate high flyers personal magic rubbing off onto him may have been a temporary fix for his own troubled emotions but would it provide the world with a one stop cure in the form of a single tablet? His own view was things healed themselves in time, though this was sometimes a painful approach in itself.
However the professor was not a man to sit and mull when he’s paid to do a job and he was paid to run the research department and this is just the way of the world. Drug companies provide drugs and drug companies provide funding. In the morning a new project would be up and running, his current batch of patients could be shipped out to meet their fate and he’d have a wards full of new subjects to experiment on, or rather patients to treat, he reminded himself, ritually straightening his jacket at same said moment.
Section 4
Jacks dreams had been seen and unseen. Those of which he was aware were to him colourful and vibrant. An average person would have woken up and maybe been unsettled by their content, yet this was Jack, he could transform emotion as easily as he leapt out of bed early and shot out of the door to work. The visions of love and dystopia within which he had spent his slumber meant simply to him that the game was on, or the goose is buttered and waiting to go in the oven as his mother would say, not that they ever ate any geese, or much meat in fact as they were mostly vegetarian as a family.
Mrs Hill wasn’t much of a candidate for some sort of Zen vegan lifestyle and unfortunately wasn’t much of a cook either so they ate a lot of salad which meant that though mostly everyone was dissatisfied with the fare, they were at least healthy. His mother didn’t feel any guilt over killing animals to eat but she did feel guilty that Jack’s father wasn’t Jacks father. His conception was the result of the back end of a party thrown by the sangha of local Buddhist monk on a most auspicious day of the calendar celebrating the freedom of the Dakinis (Sky Travellers). Mrs Hill became pregnant. The monk for his sins sought solitude and masturbated more and the family Hill ate much lettuce for the sake of an otherwise unnoticeable food complex.
Jack had another early appointment with 4192. Though their meeting the day before stressed him, for some reason he smiled, caught the man’s eye and said hello in a warm and friendly tone. Bobo the Clown said “hello”. Jack was taken aback; no progress had been made with this patient in many years. Not that Jack had any great experience, which he didn’t but he’d spent plenty of time on the wards during his five years at college. Encouraged he asked “how are you?” Bobo the Clown didn’t seem to interested in Jack’s pleasantries and replied “Julia Krish is quite a dish”, in a voice so strange, distant and harmonic Jacks eyes became heavy as lead and he almost fell asleep on his chair.
Unsure as to what had just taken place he sat there meditatively. 4192 sat there, almost waiting for Jack to regain his composure and before Jack did he said “ask me another question. Jack had read the man’s notes and he had spent his time playing with the doctors by instigating this very line of conversation. He would always say “ask me question” and if asked anything, would always reply “I’m Bobo the Clown.” Not surprisingly, though he had family, they never came to visit. Jack’s training, common sense and pretty much everything told him not to engage any further but instead he asked Bobo the Clown “how old are you ?” For someone showing little if any facial expression it appeared as though Jack was being laughed at, perhaps from behind, perhaps from the side or somewhere else within the room. Bobo the Clown said in a rather familiar and melodious tone “Jack does crack in a very silly hat.”
Section 5
Prof Hauser was in good spirits as Jack entered his office and was bid to sit down. He was glad of the warmth that the professor seemed to give off and happy to sit there quietly as he regained some sort of mental balance. The room seemed ridiculously colourful for some reason and he heard little of what the professor was saying though did his best to look as though he did. Prof Hauser was not much bothered by Jacks lack of attentiveness. He had however heard that 4192 had spoken to the new doctor. Though a large hospital with all the modern communications, gossip still spread faster.
Patient 4192 was a pet project of his and something may have panged about the young doctor’s success but he had other things on his mind. He’d think about that later and set to explaining the new Insanidol drug regime. At the end he asked if Jack had any questions. Jack was however still pretty much as vacant as when he came in and gazing at the maroon velvet curtain pull behind the professors chair as it hung, motionless in a world of chaos. The professor was in an authoritative mood, perhaps in itself compensating for the fact he had little say over the events that were unfolding. The desire to appear more important than one’s underlings in an environment where one has no control oneself is not uncommon recourse.
The professor had, over the years made a habit of trying some of the drugs that he so liberally prescribed. It was an old fashioned method, dating way back to the herbalists and he liked the romantic notion of it. Anyway one pill never did anything much and the only effect he generally noticed was that he’d fall asleep in his chair and wake up a few hours later with a slight headache and dribble down his front. In his current mood he felt he should take a step back from things and let the new doctor take some of the responsibility. He instructed Jack to try the Insanidol and gave the Jack a metallic looking pill, a glass of water and told him to come back after lunch.
During much of the rest of the day Jack ate 13 blueberry muffins, three roast lunches, with custard pudding and two chocolate brownies. He drank, according to Alice in the canteen, 35 cappuccinos each with about a tablespoon of sugar. He spent his time talking to the medical staff, the patients, the cleaners, the car park attendant, most of the visitors, some of the furniture and the light bulb in the staff restroom. All of this he did whilst wearing a strange black hat. Apparently the hat was acquired after having seduced the Matron of Termination against the wall and in several other positions too from what could be made out of the video stills circulating around the hospital. The hat had belonged to the patient who uttered his last words to the Matron earlier that very morning and shortly after his lethal injection had been administered.
Much speculation was cast upon what the patient or perhaps Jack Hill could have said to the beautiful and entirely unapproachable Szu Wei-Lin to make her so uncharacteristically generous with her honour. Yet there the whole affair was laid to rest. Some felt wearing the dead man’s hat around the hospital was in poor taste all things considered but no one expressed the emotion. The professor took responsibility for his actions, as he always did and contemplated trying one of the pills himself. The heads of departments all had a rise in their budgets courtesy of Vision Corp. Jack was cleared fit to work the next day by one of his colleagues and had absolutely no recolle
ction of talking to everbody, or anything else. When briefly questioned by Prof. Hauser he merely said that he’d fallen asleep, had a slight headache and appeared to have dribbled down his shirt. The professor pondered momentarily and then congratulated Jack for doing such a sterling job.
Section 6
The trials were to begin in stages but immediately. Patient 1492 was to be given the drug. He was one of the few patients not to be straightjacketed either with narcotics or restrained physically. Jack sat opposite him in the same room but 1492 was somehow quieter this time. Jack said the usual hello but got no answer and then asked if the patient would like to try a new medication. Jack was prepared to offer up some chocolate as an incentive but 1492 just took the pill from the pot and swallowed it without water. His face changed and John O’Conner, a painter and decorator from Bristol asked meekly where he was. He then fell off his chair and landed in a pile on the floor, as if unable to support his own body. As the day continued he became more and more agitated and by eight in the evening, after a few horrific screams he was no more. By