The Computer Ch. 10D - Security

(This story is a continuation to 'The Computer Ch. 09D- John?', it makes no sense if you have not read that part of the story.)

Please score and comment. If you don't tell me what's wrong, how will I improve.

Day Thirty Eight

I wake to the familiar pitch black darkness that is my room. I reach for the light switch, which isn't there. Oh crap, where the hell am I? Security!

If you have ever been in total darkness, you would have remembered what the room was like before the lights went out, I don't. I don't know where I am, I can feel that I'm in bed, a bed, it feels solid enough as if it is on solid ground, but I'm not about to leap out of bed into the unknown. What can you imagine, a floor full of snakes? How about Rats, or spiders?

I've always believed that I lack an imagination, so I'm not scared, but I am wary of doing anything, in case it makes my situation any worse than it already is. So I lie here in the dark waiting.

...

Oh god. Is this the Security of the schoolboy horror stories, blood spattered walls, fiendish torture devices and sadists wearing black uniforms? Some of those stories were really scary for a ten year old. Me? I always fancied myself as one of the guys in the black uniforms, but I could never dream up a fiendish torture worse than eating sweets in front of my victim, I knew, much to my regret, that I'd never make the grade as a torturer.

...

I've no means of telling the time. So I don't know how long I've been awake, but if I got my eight hours then I'm probably awake a couple of hours earlier than they would expect. They probably drugged me so I didn't wake up when they moved me. If they pulled me early enough the drug should not add to my eight hours.

I do not recognize this interrogation tactic. They should be dragging me out of bed half asleep and confused, to be questioned over and over by a team of mean looking chaps in shirtsleeves. What are they waiting for? Perhaps they are waiting for the interrogation room to be cleaned after its last occupant was finished with?

...

The room is flooded with light. Very bright light. A speaker, somewhere, announces;

"Get up, get dressed and stand in the middle of the room facing away from the door."

I look around, there is the bed and a chair. On the chair are some clothes and my slippers. There is no washing facilities. I get up, take off my pyjamas, bid them a fond farewell, as I suspect I will not see them again, and dress in the one piece overall, from the chair. The overall is a terrible fit. There is no mirror to check my appearance, so I stand in the middle of the room and turn my back to the door. I hear the sound of the door opening and boots entering. My arms are held and a handcuff is locked on each wrist. When I look I see I'm attached to two guards, one on each side.

"Come with us."

The journey is along a corridor and down six flights of stairs and out of the building to a saloon car. We three clamber into the back seat, the doors are closed and we are off at speed.

Well, if that was the local Security office, we are probably heading for the Sector office now. The one with the lift and the nice food. I keep quiet throughout the journey, in case they take me back.

...

We arrive somewhere and climb out of the car. This would have been a lot easier if the three of us were not handcuffed together. Anyway we are here now. Inside to Reception, where we pick up our local escorts who lead us to the lift. There are other people waiting but when the lift arrives, only the five of us get in. Floor ten here we come. Out of the lift and down the corridor. I break my silence to say.

"Can we go via the toilet?"

Apparently not, we turn into room 1045. There is a table and two chairs. They lead me to the chair facing the door and tell me to sit. My guards, still attached, stand either side of me. The other two guards are standing either side of the door. A new man arrives and unlocks the handcuffs. I'm glad we didn't have an accident in the car. The new man and my original two guards leave.

"Before we start, can I visit the washroom? I've not been since I woke up."

Nobody moves.

"Is it alright if I piss on the floor?"

Still, nobody moves. The door opens and a man enters and gives a nod to the two guards. They move towards me and taking an arm each they lift me to my feet and walk me out the door, down the corridor to room 1099. Aah the washroom, we all enter and the door is closed. I'm released and go about my business. No shower. So I'm limited to number ones and a sink wash. Dry myself using paper towels. It is not the best, but it will do. I present myself to the guards and they take an arm each and take me back to 1045.

...

There is a man waiting, sat at the table. I sit and look at him expectantly.

"You are Jack Xxxxxx."

It didn't sound like a question so I remained quiet.

"Answer the question."

I was about to explain the difference between statements and questions, when I thought better of it. After all, this is not a friendly chat between citizen and public servant, but a battle to be fought by prosecutor and defender.

"Are you Jack Xxxxxx?"

"Yes Sir."

"You live at Apartment xxxx Block C Zone xxxx."

"Yes Sir."

"You are a Computer Technician Grade IV."

"Yes Sir."

Having established that they had the right man, he rose and left the room. As he left, I asked;

"I don't suppose I could have some breakfast?"

If all I got was bread and water, it would be something. Nobody acknowledges my plea.

...

A man, whom I presume to be my interrogator enters the room. He drops a large folder onto the table to gain my attention and sits. He recites his name and rank and allows the guards to do likewise.

"Jack.You've been a very busy boy these last few weeks."

He paused as if expecting a reply.

"Have I?"

"Yes, this file was only opened two cycles ago and now look at it, four centimetres thick. I'm not sure that the forests of the world can keep up with you Jack. And if they can't then we have to do something about you, Jack."

"I'm sorry I ..."

"It's too late for apologies Jack. We are going to get to the bottom of this and you are going to tell me the whole truth."

He spent the next ten minutes impressing upon me the need to tell the truth so that we could clear this whole thing up and get me back where I belonged. Not once did he explained what it was he wanted to clear up.

...

It all went quiet and nobody said anything. I thought, 'this is my cue' where I'm supposed to confess all.

"Erm, excuse me but what is it I'm supposed to have done?"

"We are here to find that out."

Pause for confused thought.

"Who, what?"

"Tell me about your day, yesterday."

"Look if you ..."

"Tell me about your day, yesterday or you can spend the rest of the night in a cell."

I decide I will stop trying to prevent everyone wasting their time and go with the flow.

"I woke up, had breakfast, something I haven't been able to do today, and ordered my week's shopping. I rang a friend to see if she was available for coffee. She was, so I collected her and we went to the local coffee shop. We had a coffee and a snack and then I took her home. You see it was raining and she doesn't like the rain. I stayed out to get some exercise but I was getting wet and decided to try out a cafe I had heard of. When I got there, I saw an acquaintance sat at one of the tables on his own. I ate an excellent english breakfast and washed it down with a hot Chocolate. I had a few words with my acquaintance during which I accused him of lying and he got up and left. I followed him because he seemed upset, but he was out of sight. Then I went home to dry out and later on I went out to do some more exercise, then I went home, had dinner and went to bed early."

"That's it, there is nothing you want to add or retract?"

"I don't know what you are looking for. That is a true summary of my day."

"We will see."

He recites his 'I am leaving' script and leaves, taking his file with him.

...

A woman enters the room. She recites her 'I've come to the party' script.

"Hello Jack"

"Hello er."

"Mrs Thompson is the name you are looking for."

"Mrs Thompson. Sorry, I don't really listen to the introduction script."

"Right, well you've been here before so you know what comes next."

Pause.

"What time did you wake up?"

"18:00."

"Of course, you work nights. Describe your morning routine."

The interview continues like this through my entire day. Special interest is paid to who I met on my walks. Claire is practically ignored but everything else is minutely examined. Including ...

"Tell me about the cafe."

"The cafe was new to me, I'd not been in it before, but Claire had told me they did all day breakfasts. Something I could do with right now."

"Keep on the subject please."

I describe how I pretend to be a 'Secret Agent', when entering a new place. This is to overcome my limitations caused by my condition. It also helps me to explain the phone call.

"Are you playing 'Secret Agent' now?"

"Oh no, this is real."

I dwell on the delicious breakfast but Mrs Thompson is not as interested as I. She is much more interested in John. I told her about our previous meetings. How he'd claimed to work at Computer Central, an obvious lie. Of the four people who work in Computer Central, I knew three by sight and the fourth was at work.

"You told him a lie, you don't work in Admin."

"Admin policy, Computer Central personnel should tell other people that they work in Admin. It's a security thing."

"You told him that you checked his employment record. But you do not have access to employment records."

"No, but Admin do, It was a bit of a bluff. Worked didn't it. Who is he, anyway?"

"You followed him out of the cafe."

"Yes but he was out of sight. He was quick on his feet."

"So what did you do then?"

"Then I went home."

"Did you see or talk to anyone?"

"It was raining, people just wanted to get out of the rain, including me."

"But you left your room for some reason."

"The TV was very boring, I don't suppose you have any influence with the programme planners?

"Keep on topic."

"I thought I'd do a bit more exercise. You can't get enough."

"I think that phrase refers to another form of physical exercise. Where did you go?"

"I tried walking up the stairs, I don't know how the people on the twentieth floor do it. So I went outside and did some laps. Got bored, went home, had dinner and had an early night."

"Whom did you meet during your walk?"

"Passers by, nobody I knew."

"Did you go to the Coffee shop?"

"No I think the breakfast at Joes had filled me up."

"Tell me about your 'Secret Agent' roleplay."

"It's just playacting."

"Yes, but I am interested in how it helps you overcome your condition."

"My condition makes me act in a way that makes me look very shy. I don't look people in the eye, I don't talk to strangers and I tend to hide. Acting the part of a 'Secret Agent' allows me to behave in a more natural way."

"What like moving from cover to cover?"

"No, approaching people, starting conversations looking at people rather than looking through people at the room. I'm not sure it is 100% successful, but it is an improvement."

"When you talk on the phone, to whom are you speaking?"

Aah the difficult question. Do I tell them about Henry?

"My Controller."

"Does your Controller have a name, a code word perhaps?"

"I know him as Henry."

"Do you know Henry well, are you friends?

"No, we have to keep our relationship on a business level."

"Why?"

"If I'm killed or captured, it can be very traumatic for the Controller."

"And for you."

She produces my phone from nowhere and puts it on the table.

"Call Henry for me."

For a moment I hesitate then, trusting in Henry, I press the speed dial for the 'Cinema' while praying very hard. She takes the phone from my hand and listens.

Pause.

She cancels the call. She gave no indication as to what she heard during the call. I think she is a true professional, and wouldn't have given any indication even if Henry had said 'Hello Mrs Thompson'. I just hope Henry was on the ball and didn't start talking about Claire.

"Thank you. We shall have a break for lunch."

Mrs Thompson rises and leaves the room.

...

Lunch arrives in the shape of a middle aged woman in an overall. She puts a plate on the table along with a spoon, looks at me, to see if she knows me and leaves, relieved no doubt that she does not. Lunch is a stew, hot and tasty. It does not last long and I push the empty plate across the table and sit back in the chair.

...

My dinner lady returns for the empties and leaves without a word. Immediately after, two new guards enter, my old guard is swapped for the new and the old guard head off to their lunch.

...

I'm left on my own (if we ignore the guards) for a what seems like ages. Either my interrogators are having a long lunch or I have said something interesting which has got them thinking. We've to do the confirmation round next so they can compare the two versions. Well I haven't told any lies so I should be bullet proof, if I keep my head.

...

Where oh where are my interrogators? Have they forgotten about me? I ask the room.

"Can I use the washroom again?"

The room does not answer. But after a few minutes a man appears at the door to nod to the guards who take station around me and together we walk to the washroom in room 1099. I do my business and have a wash and drink some water from the tap. The return journey is uneventful.

...

I decide to try for a power nap. My head resting on my arms on the table. Eyes closed.

...

Bang!

End of my power nap. Oh look it's file man back to terrorize me. The bang was his file hitting the table.

"Wake up Jack. Time for work."

"Oh good, I thought you'd forgotten all about me."

"Yesterday, tell me about your day."

I proceed to relate the events of yesterday in a repeat of what I told him earlier. But he wasn't having that. I'd given Mrs Thompson a lot more detail and he wants that and more. He constantly stops me mid sentence, and goes back for more detail on stuff I thought I'd satisfied him with already. He was obviously trying to break a pre-prepared story. I was telling the truth so his tactic failed, but he kept at it, all through my telling the tale of yesterday. He scores points for persistence. He makes a big deal about my role playing. Smirking as he goes over the cafe episode stressing my actions as a 'Secret Agent'. Taunting me for being less of a man. Living the life of a fantasist. I don't care what he says or thinks about me as long as he finds me innocent. He recites his leaving script to the room. And he stomps out of the room with his file, which he has not opened once.

If they don't get a move on, the Day Watch will be taking over. Unless that's why they had the long lunch. They are just warming me up for the main attraction.This could be hard work. There is only one thing to look forward to, Breakfast, I don't think I'll be allowed to sleep after.

...

Their breakfast will probably be served at about 06:00, this would allow the canteen staff to clean up before they go home at 08:00. That will at least give me approximate time mark. Not having a timepiece is disquieting, though strangely it seems to make time pass more quickly.

...

The temptation to think about what is going to happen next is overwhelming, but I try to keep my mind off of the interrogation. Speculating about things which you do not control is pointless.

...

Breakfast arrives.

"Two sausages! Thank you, I've been looking forward to this all day."

There's no reply from the dinner lady but she is smiling as she leaves. I tuck in to my long anticipated breakfast.

The euphoria lasts as long as the breakfast. It was nice but not as nice as Joes'. Now I have nothing to look forward to, except my interrogation. I can't look forward to my release because it is by no means certain.

...

My dinner lady returns to collect the empty plate. I thank her for the marvellous breakfast. It always pays to keep on the right side of the canteen ladies. Hot on her heels my replacement guards arrive and the old guard depart. About 90 minutes to go to shift change, I don't think I will get much sleep today so I get my head down and try for sleep.

...

"Huh, wha?"

Where? Oh yeah, Security. Something woke me up.

"Wakey! Wakey! The sun's been up for hours."

"What time is it?"

"Time for you to wake up."

It must be the Day Watch. They are a lot noisier than the Night Watch. Why did they wake me up? Is it sleep deprivation or do they have to prove that the prisoners are alive at watch handover. I try to stretch but I find that I'm handcuffed to the table. Were they worried that I'd walk in my sleep?

It's probably going to be an hour or so before anyone comes along to chat. They will have to be briefed on what happened last night. I try to get back to sleep.

...

Bang!

"Wha?"

"Wakey, Wakey. Time to do some work. We can't sit on our arses all day."

"Erm, This is one of my days off I can do what I like."

"And you like helping Security with their Enquiries. You are a good citizen. I like good citizens."

"Oh good, can I go back to sleep."

"You don't want to sleep through this, we would have to write your statement for you."

That woke me up. I'm handcuff free again.

"I'm awake."

"When did you first meet John?"

Disoriented, I fail to answer straight away.

"Erm, let me see. It was the day of the program on the TV that was about an invasion by Aliens. I'd had the news on but I wasn't really paying attention. The Alien Invasion program started within the News program so their initial sequences of Flying Saucers looked to me like part of the news. It didn't worry me because I thought they were reporting UFO sightings. Later that night, I was in the Coffee shop when the rain became torrential. Everybody who was outside sought shelter and the Coffee shop filled up. My table was one of the last with an empty seat until John sat down. John started a conversation with me and somehow it got onto TV programmes. I mentioned the UFO sightings on the News and he explained that it was actually a drama and it was all fiction."

"Was that the start of your friendship?"

"Friendship is not how I would describe our relationship."

"When did you meet again?"

"Nine days later? I was walking in a part of the Zone that I don't usually frequent, when I literally bumped into him. We just passed the time of day."

"It was another ten days before our paths crossed again. We swapped names, jobs, and addresses. That's when I began thinking that everything he told me was untrue. At the time I thought he was a fantasist living in his own little world. You get some strange people on nights."

"Why did you think he was lying?"

"Because he said he worked in Computer Central."

"So?"

"I work in Computer Central. I know all but one of the people who work there by sight."

"John could have been the one you don't know."

"If that were so, then John should have been at work. He wasn't, therefore he was lying."

"Continue."

"The last time I saw him was in the cafe 'Joes Diner'."

"Why did you challenge him?"

"You mean, why did I call him a liar?"

"Yes. It was not a polite thing to do."

"Neither was lying to me. He was effectively saying that he was me. I didn't like that at all."

"I don't understand why you would say that he was you."

"I work in Computer Central. John said he worked there too. I asked John what day of the cycle he was on, he said 'Five'. Guess what day of the cycle I was on? It may have been coincidence but he was sat with the one person who positively knew that he was lying."