Authors: Steven Spellman
Tags: #Fiction, #government, #science fiction, #futuristic, #apocalyptic, #virus, #dystopian
The doctor agreed.
“Speaking of which,” Geoffrey continued, “I think I’m gonna need a
few things right away if we’re gonna keep the ole’ girl in there
happy.”
“And what might that be?”
Dr. Crangler asked, skeptically.
“Well, for now, a tutorial
on how to do pedicures, manicures, and hairstyling, and then a few
other things I’ll tell you I need when I find out
myself.”
As Geoffrey listened to
the doctor’s thoughts, both he and the doctor looked confused.
Geoffrey couldn’t understand what the doctor was thinking,
precisely because the doctor didn’t rightly know himself. It would
seem that he was flabbergasted by his patient’s latest and most
outrageous request.
He opened his mouth to
speak, but Geoffrey broke in, “Listen, you said that the hall
cameras can’t pick up our voices, but they can still tape us,
correct?” Dr. Crangler nodded. “All right, well maybe we should go
ahead into my room and start with the practice. There’ll be no way
for them to know what we’re doing, but I can see that you don’t
think my request will be too sane, and if we stay out here talking
about it much longer, it’s going to look suspicious. Once I can
project my thoughts into your head more smoothly and establish
communication that way, we won’t need to talk like this anymore.
You can just think what you want me to hear, and I can just project
what I want to say into your mind.”
“Yes.” Dr. Crangler didn’t
sound overly excited about the prospect “I guess that would be the
best way.” The doctor gave the signal to the nearest hall camera
for Geoffrey’s door to be opened. The two entered and began the
highly-unorthodox practice of soundless conversation. Meanwhile,
topside, thousands, hundreds of thousands, millions more were
losing their lives in writhing agony from which there was still no
cure. At least half of the these numbers had only experienced life
outside the womb for a few brief seconds, but for all involved, it
was a slow, mercilessly excruciating demise. Many more would follow
this burning path of distress and death, until two men, one a
doctor and the other a captive patient, could figure out how to get
a young woman, another captive patient with an insatiable thirst
for freedom, pregnant with a child whose pure blood would provide
the only possible chance of relief to a world in desperate need of
it.
No one knew what was taking
place on the alien planet from which the hateful Virus originated.
Was the alien super-consciousness filling its subordinate bodies
with laughter at the sight of so much human carnage being wreaked
without it having to do anything? Was it looking on unemotionally,
as a human might after crushing an anthill and watching the
swarming masses scamper to the surface, the greater number having
been already smashed into oblivion, only to be likewise crushed
themselves? Maybe the alien entity wasn’t watching at all, content
to let The Virus do its job, leaving Earth in a matter of a few
short years, as far as space time goes, completely devoid of all
human life, and ready to be re-inhabited or whatever else the alien
consciousness may have in mind. Nothing was for sure, and among the
things that were not for sure, was if Geoffrey, in an effort to
find companionship in this bleak situation, and at the same time,
help thwart an alien assault, was inadvertently becoming more alien
himself. If he could spread his telepathic powers on to the doctor,
wouldn’t that bring the human race to within even closer similarity
to the alien intelligence? Wouldn’t linking human minds in so
intimate a fashion eventually yield something of a singular
worldwide consciousness? These were not questions to be entertained
just yet—the
real
aliens were the important thing now—but the day would come
not too far in the future, when they would have to be answered. But
again, not just yet.
Chapter 24
It took about three days
of lengthy hours of practice for Geoffrey to become reasonably
proficient in, and for Dr. Crangler to become reasonably relaxed
with, communication that was completely devoid of audible words. Of
course, the doctor couldn’t project his thoughts, but Geoffrey
could read them, and project his own thoughts, so the communication
was sealed. Now, the patient and doctor could talk without ever
speaking a word and, especially as Geoffrey’s proficiency grew, not
even be in the same room to do so. It was directly after this line
of communication had been established that the doctor granted
Geoffrey a television set and the tutorials he had requested
earlier. According to Geoffrey, the best way to keep Delilah
cooperative was to keep her happy. He explained to the doctor that
the neurological pathways of Delilah’s brain were such that if she
was not relevantly reminded of certain things, certain luxuries she
had been surrounded by her entire life, then her brain would
trigger stress hormones to be released cause her to be a certified
pain in the ass for anyone who had to deal with her.
When Dr. Crangler asked
Geoffrey how he knew of these neurological pathways, considering
that he had told the doctor that he simply heard thoughts, Geoffrey
looked perturbed. After taking a moment to think, he explained
that, as he had said, Delilah’s brain was drastically different
from the doctor’s, any of his assistants’, or any man’s, for that
matter. The best way Geoffrey knew to explain it was when he heard
the doctor’s thoughts, he saw them as well. However, just as he
didn’t hear them with his natural senses, he didn’t see them by
that mechanism either. There was no way to explain what the sound
of them or the sight of them was like, but when he saw words, the
thoughts of a man’s mind, it was as if they were coming off of
narrow highways and being continually fed to the mouth, where they
would come out as audible speech or dissipate unspoken. Now, in
Geoffrey’s experience, a man’s thoughts materialized from only a
few narrow highway paths, but Delilah’s thoughts were fed into the
forefront of her brain from many, many highway paths, at rapid
speeds, and often resulted in massive traffic wrecks. However, when
Geoffrey initially mentioned manicures and pedicures to her, and
afterward, when they had discussed her life before her capture, it
was as if these highway paths ran much more smoothly and without
nearly as many jams and wrecks. Geoffrey imagined these many
converging highways as neurological pathways, and if that was so,
then Delilah’s thoughts and thus her cooperation, could only be
gained by comforts with which she was familiar.
Dr. Crangler nodded after
his explanation.
Interestingly enough,
what you’ve just described in perfect detail is what we think of as
the reward system. In most cases, it served as a survival function,
during the release of dopamine and endorphins when doing necessary
things such as eating, fighting, and exercising. It also breeds
drug dependence because they trigger the rapid release of those
pleasure chemicals. The thing about neurological pathways is that,
like regular highways, they can have grooves worn into them from
years of use and the brain permanently associates lasting pleasure
with the repeated experience. Just like an addict’s brain, if
Delilah isn’t getting those pleasure chemicals, she could be
experiencing symptoms of withdrawal, which would explain why she is
being…difficult.
As Dr. Crangler looked on
at his patient, still trying to keep his other thoughts shielded,
he recalled Geoffrey’s suddenly expanded vocabulary, how he had
taken to referring to him as ‘doc’ lately as if they were lifelong
friends, his escalation from mind reader to mind speaker, and now
this. Geoffrey’s brain was evolving somehow, he was becoming much
smarter at a geometric rate. Given enough time, there was no
telling what he’d be able to do or figure out…like how to escape.
Still, this was a concern that could not be dealt with at the
moment. Many such concerns ‘that could not be entertained at the
moment,’ had been piling up as of late and even though Dr. Crangler
felt deep in his gut that there was nothing he could do about it,
he also knew that these concerns and questions
would
resurface eventually, and when
they did, there would be hell to pay.
Dr. Crangler and Geoffrey
arrived at Geoffrey’s room door. The tutorials Geoffrey had
requested were waiting for him. Dr. Crangler gestured to the hall
camera and left his patient in his room. The conversation they had
just had had been completely unspoken, so even if the hall cameras
could record their voices, there were no voices to record. The only
audible sound, in fact, was the sound of the doctor mumbling to
himself as he trudged down the hall to his office. He didn’t even
realize he was doing it, but he was musing aloud that time was more
of the essence than it had ever been. It wouldn’t be long before
Geoffrey was completely beyond his control, and with that
revelation, he knew Delilah had to be impregnated
now
. The child she would
bear was more important than anything else. Everything hinged on
it. Dr. Crangler was not a praying man, he relied on scientific
evidence, medical procedures, and his own extensive knowledge, but
he was closer than he’d ever been in his life to pleading to the
high heavens for help.
The next day, he escorted
Geoffrey to Delilah’s room just as before and retreated to one of
his smaller offices to monitor them. Lieutenant Dan looked on as
well, positioned in the same absurdly erect posture as before.
Besides his initial greeting to the two patients, he didn’t open
his mouth to speak a word the entire day. Meanwhile, Geoffrey
cleaned, clipped, and filed the nails and cuticles on Delilah’s
hands and feet. Dr. Crangler was not experienced with such
pleasantries, but even a novice like he could tell Geoffrey had
nearly mastered the tutorials that were given to him, even though
he had only had a matter of hours to review and study them. Dr.
Crangler managed to secure all the necessary tools for the job and
Geoffrey now used those tools with such familiarity, moved from
nail to nail and task to task with such smoothness, that it
appeared as if he had been doing this for years. Geoffrey spent
more than a few hours at his new job as Delilah reclined in her
chair, obviously enjoying every moment of her indulgence. At
Geoffrey’s suggestion, more lavish treatments followed and within a
little over a week’s time, he had learned to style hair, perform
skin treatments, give a full body massage, and nearly every other
delicacy that would warm a woman’s heart. By the end of that week,
Delilah looked nothing like the woman the doctor and his assistants
had grown used to.
She had never been ugly,
but as she wasted away in this secret facility for months on end
without the feminine luxuries and servitudes that filled the bulk
of her days before her capture, she had lost much of her
carefully-tended luster. Her skin had suffered from lack of natural
sunlight, her figure, from lack of appetite, and her teeth color,
from the lack of expensive whitening treatments. Now, she was had
nearly returned to the old Delilah, the Delilah who knew nothing of
hideous skin blemishes, or less-than-perfectly white teeth, or, God
forbid, split ends. It would take a little more than a week to
return her back to her former glory, but even now she was a sight
to see. Her prominent cheek bones seemed to support her
newly-sparkling eyes like lightly-bronzed pillars, her hair hung
loftily, concealing much of her face, and showering the rest in
thin, glistening black strains of elegance. Despite himself, Dr.
Crangler was quite amazed as he looked on from his monitor. Even he
was forced to admit that this young woman had real
beauty.
She even allowed Geoffrey
to wax her long legs. Though her thighs and calves were in need of
exercise and sunlight, they were still a comely sight, by far
better than many other women’s legs. Dr. Crangler thought that he
may’ve even seen the lieutenant general flinch as he caught a
glimpse of her once Geoffrey had finished. There was still
important work to be done, as the doctor implicitly reminded
Geoffrey at the week’s end.
And I wholeheartedly
agree.
Geoffrey answered soundlessly to
the doctor, still in office, after his latest session with
Delilah.
And I think it’s time. I think
she’s ready.
He continued.
But I need one last thing.
And what would that be,
Geoffrey?
the doctor asked suspiciously,
not willing to concede any further requests until the procedure was
at least initiated.
She’s already agreed to be
impregnated, as she still thinks it will guarantee her release, but
I just want one day, a single day, that’s all, to discuss something
with her.
I ask again, and what
would that be, Geoffrey?
There was a brief
telepathic silence before Geoffrey continued,
I just want one day to discuss with her how she is
impregnated.
I thought that was the
case, Geoffrey, ole’ boy. I thought it all along…but then, I
suppose you knew that?
I did, but can you blame
me? You, your assistants, Lieutenant Dan, everyone in this
God-forsaken facility has the choice to leave and get a break from
this place.
Dr. Crangler frowned.
Even if you don’t use it. That’s your
choice.
Geoffrey answered, foreseeing what
the doctor was about to say.
But Delilah
and I don’t even have a choice in the matter.
Geoffrey telepathic tone became more serious,
Dr. Crangler, hear me out. I’ve been down here
for what feels like years, I haven’t seen or heard from the only
family I have, my father. I don’t even know if he’s alive. And,
until now, I haven’t even been allowed any human interaction except
with you and your assistants, and no offense, but you’re not the
most lively bunch. I mean, everything has been taken away from me.
I had a career and an apartment and a life. Neither it nor the
apartment was much of anything, I’ll concede, but it was mine, but
all of that was stolen from me the moment I set foot on that
helicopter. Not to mention all the craziness I’ve seen right here.
I’ve seen in your thoughts that it’s pandemonium all across the
world right now, and soon, there may not even be a world to get
back to.