| From: | "Frank Pelletier (Trinity)" <fpelletier@******.USHERB.CA> |
|---|---|
| Subject: | Caged |
| Date: | Sat, 31 Oct 1998 18:20:21 -0500 |
>>>>>[
+++++Include Cybersenses recording (Merged)
+++++Include Cybercomm thought track
A blank, boring brushed metal cell. Nothing around but an inset light, a
small hole, and the faint outlines of a door. Nothing else.
I'm naked. My head still feels weird, like a loud, throbbing noise. Won't
matter much when they strap my ass to that big humming chair.
Or the low table with the tubes.
Or that gas chamber.
Maybe I'll get raped by some huge trog and die in prison.
Maybe. No.
I can't die. I won't.
I rush headlong into the steel door. A loud gong-like noise fills the room.
Nothing.
My body flies across the small gap. Again.
Nothing.
I'm not in the shape I used to be. After 15 minutes, I'm dead tired, lying
on the floor. Blood flows from a bad cut over my left eye. The hole. It
slides open, then slides back closed. I can hear. A small, metallic click.
The door.
It swings open slowly, several metal rods slowly receding inside the wall.
Four armed guards are surrounding a small brunette, wearing a lab coat over
a wool pullover and jeans. She is kinda cute. But I gotta...
"Mr. Fitzpatrick, you'll do us no good if you keep on injuring yourself.
The taxpayers already have trouble understanding the fact that we need
someone relatively healthy to stand trial. Please do not make matters any
worse."
"Ya know, bitch, you seem like someone with half-a-brain, so let me put it
real simple for you. I can't stand trial. I already know what's waiting
for me there. Now, I'm gonna rush into you. Your guards will shoot me
dead, or die with their faces bashed in. Then I'll rape your cute ass, and
snap your neck."
She smiles. The bitch smiles. Oh I'm gonna have tons of fun with her.
"Unfortunatly Mr. Fitzpatrick, your reputation precedes you. We knew you
wouldn't cooperate right away, so we took the liberty of installing certain,
let me put it lightly, safeguards. You are helpless, so please stay calm
and wait for due process."
Cortex. Gotta be. They're gonna blow my head off. Fuck.
Fuck.
Damn. Time to finish this.
I lunge forward, fists clenched, the cold feeling of titanium lacing
crunching under my knuckles. Goodbye, bitch.
Nothing. I was up. Then for a moment, time froze.
Then I'm down. I don't feel a thing. I can see, can hear my limbs
thrashing around. I can see a green status bar creeping in my field of
vision. "Damage Compensated". I can barely keep my head in the doctor's
direction.
"Mr. Fitzpatrick, in about 15 seconds, your compensators will overflow.
Your nervous system will overload your sensory dampers. Most of your eye
and ear mods will burn. Your MBW will decalibrate itself and cause massive
seizures. But you won't die. Oh, you'll suffer pain worse than you ever
could imagine. Your muscles tearing themselves apart from the strain, your
joints snapping. But we have physicians around. You won't die."
My limbs fall dead. I lay on the cold floor, still stairing at the woman.
"You actually helped us, Mr. Fitzpatrick. The wiring was already there. We
only implanted some minor control devices in your major neural nexuses. You
are under control." She smiles.
"And I know you hate being under anyone's control."
"Now, I hope you calm down. It would be a pity to have to wheel yourself
around."
Closing link (Misc-3)]<<<<<
-- Haze <18:20:34/10-31-59>
