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As if I will be given a choice. I was taught well in school. I know that a worker’s mind is not their own. Training is programming. Programming is life. I was not taught to make choices. I was taught to obey.
The irony is, I could never behave myself when it came to Shah, not the first time I met him, and not when I wandered my way into his embrace all those years later. Maybe the Seer knows something I don’t. Maybe fate and destiny are real forces in this universe. All I know is that I’m no longer the well-behaved drone worker who does as she is told - and the more I think about it, the more I wonder if I ever was.
They put me in a chair with restraints built into the arms and the legs. As soon as I sit down, I am kept in place. A Colony agent stands before me.
“Unit 4392,” he addresses me by my Colony code. “You have been in the possession of a criminal. You have no doubt been convinced to partake in criminal acts. I would like to hear about what you witnessed and what criminal acts you partook in. A full confession is necessary.”
I laugh. It’s the wrong thing to do. But how can I possibly fully confess to all I did with Shah? And all he did to me?
“What is amusing?” The Colony authority seems disturbed by my mirth. I guess that’s because drones don’t laugh. There’s not a lot of humor in our world. There’s just pure function.
“There’s too much to tell you,” I say, honestly. “I saw more in the last several weeks than I saw in my entire life before that. I ate food I’ve never tasted before, I talked to people I never would have spoken to. I saw violence, and I experienced it for myself. I was confused a lot of the time.”
“I bet you were,” the authority says. My confusion is the only thing that makes sense to them. They really think of me as a robot, a meat machine that probably shouldn’t have feelings.
“You were in the possession of the master criminal, Shah. What use did he have for you?”
“Sexual, mostly.” Again, I can be honest.
“She’s got nothing useful to say,” the agent concludes. He’s not talking to me. He’s speaking to those who are watching elsewhere. I get the impression they don’t actually care as much as they seemed to at first. It’s almost like someone has told them to pretend to care.
I sit very still, and I do my best impression of compliance. I know that my survival relies on them thinking I am harmless and submissive, a thing to be acted on. I was worried from time to time that I might be in trouble for being abducted, and then being with Shah, but I should have realized that they’d never be angry with me. That would be like being angry with your box because somebody took it. I’m just a thing. An object to be acted on. I can’t be bad, because I don’t have sufficient personality.
“Alright, Unit 4392. Time you went back to work.”
He reaches over and swings an arm-mounted device toward me. It slides toward my eyes. A series of lights activate, like a thousand stars, pretty pin pricks that immediately arrest my attention.
“Look into the light, please. Very good. Yes.”
I had a brief moment of fear that they were going to hurt me, but they won’t hurt me. Shah makes me hurt sometimes. Shah gives me pleasure too. The Colony doesn’t give me pleasure or pain. The Colony makes me functionally numb.
The lights flash, dappling themselves in a pattern that feels oddly familiar. I can feel my brain sort of slide around itself, thoughts and feelings moving like big beasts inside a tight ocean.
Everything is gone. My worries. My fears. I feel light and calm.
All is well.
“Again,” the voice behind the light says. “We will triple the treatment. She must be thoroughly flushed and voided. Don’t want her carrying vestigial memories that might make her malfunction.”
The light flashes.
I am empty.
The light flashes.
I am gone.
* * *
I’m getting ready for bed. I have cleaned my room, every inch of it with a disposable cleaning wipe. That took me two and a half minutes. That’s a new record. I hope it has been noted by the circular eye in the upper right-hand corner that sees all.
I am being watched, and that pleases me. Being watched is the same thing as being cared for. Being on display means that I must be interesting. Being interesting means I must set a good example.
I am a good worker.
My room is three feet wide by six feet long. It’s one of the larger rooms on this floor because I am one of the more productive workers in my factory. I’m quite proud of it. It has a place to sit and a place to wash. Those are all the places you need, beside one.
My bed is located in a little loft shelf tucked away up by the top window. I sleep there between the hours of ten pm and five am. I am allotted seven hours, and I like to use every bit of them.
