I heard a tapping at the door. I looked and began to walk toward the door when I realized there was no door handle. The door opened and a meek looking man with short hair and horn-rim glasses peered into my room. I thought about brain-bashing him and making a run for it, but I decided my only real hope was to pretend to play the game.
"Good morning. How are you feeling today?"
"Much better," I said, trying to sound reasonably cheerful and cooperative. I sensed he thought I was a bit too cheery, so I decided to tone it down by narrowing my gaze to the floor.
"We realize you have been through a difficult time these last few days." "Difficult?" I thought to myself. I considered again the possibility of smashing this guy and making an escape attempt.
"Not really difficult," I said maintaining my downward gaze. "Just a little confusing."
"Perfectly understandable. We at MACROHARD are here to help you recover from all you've been through. Most people who have been exposed to CYBERCONTEXTUALISM suffer from a certain amount of confusion and disorientation for a period of days or even weeks afterwards."
He started making notes on his clipboard. I began to feel nervous. I wanted to see what he was writing. Maybe he knew I was a fraud. If only I could distract him long enough to see his notes. Another Beatles song came on over the loud speaker: Penny Lane. He looked up at me and smiled. He started humming along with the music. He even did a little jig.
"Isn't it wonderful? Isn't it marvelous? Those lads from Liverpool were really onto something. Imagine, where we'd be today if they'd never been around?"
I nodded yes in agreement. He put his arms out to me indicating I should come forward. I thought perhaps he wanted to dance, then he pulled out a stethoscope and began examining me.
"You are in good shape my son. You have nothing to worry about. You can start work tomorrow."
"You mean I can go home?" I queried. He laughed. "Of course that won't be necessary. MACROHARD has decided to promote you. You'll be working in INVESTOR relations. Don't you feel honored? You should you know. It's not often they promote anyone so soon after treatment."
"Treatment?" I said.
"Never mind. The important thing is you are ready to go to work. Relax." I masked my confusion with a smile as he picked up his things and left the room.
He said I had received treatment, but I remember nothing of the sort. What could they have done to me? I know what MACROHARD means by treatment. All I remember is I tried to escape and was knocked unconscious. I walked into the bathroom and gazed into the mirror. It was still the same old me. The same old Lane Cooper. My eyes were still gray. My hair was still thinning out a little on top and on the sides. Same boyish smile, or is it more a devilish grin? I'm still me as far as I can tell. But who knows these days?
I heard a knock at the door and two nurses came in to the room. They were both wearing peace buttons and tie-die skirts.
"Good morning," they said in chorus. "Doctor Malcheck wants you to come up to his office to sign out of the hospital." I nodded in agreement and gathered up my clothing. I could tell they had CD implants in their ears because they were humming and nodding to some melody I couldn't hear. I followed them as we walked down the corridor. The hallway was completely silent, unnaturally so. Was I the only patient in this wing? They took me to the elevator, pressed a button and smiled at each other as the door closed. It was an outside glass elevator. I hate glass elevators. For vertigo sufferers like me there's nothing worse than glass elevators.
"Wouldn't it make more sense to take the stairs?" I asked. The two were staring at each other oblivious to my comments, lost in some mutual music wonderland. I didn't want them to realize I was suffering. No use letting on. They might use it against me someday. I stared down at my feet and closed my eyes. I felt dizzy and squeezed my hands onto the rails. If I had eaten I would have thrown up. The elevator came to a stop.
"Thank goodness," I whispered to myself as I slowly opened my eyes. The attendants were already out of the elevator and were standing smiling at me on the landing. I started to smile back when the elevator doors slammed shut. I lunged at the door, but it was too late. The elevator started to accelerate at three times its normal speed. My knees folded and I fell to the floor. I screamed as I saw a blur of blue sky all around me. The movement slowed while gradually the elevator cab started to lean onto its side. I was thrown against the glass wall. This elevator was twisting. This was no ordinary elevator.
"What the hell, what the HELL is going on?" I yelled out loud to myself. I was in the grips of complete paralyzing fear. Suddenly it hit me. This is it. This is the fucking STAB! It had to be. They were bringing me to the edge of panic. They must have discovered I have a fear of heights and they're using it to break me down before the conditioning. A thousand thoughts whirled through my mind as I felt the elevator cab continue to pull itself up on its side. I've got to maintain control. Got to make it look like I've lost it completely. They don't know that I know how the therapy works. That's my only advantage. The elevator was moving on its side. I looked up and could see I was on top of the building. The cab was being dragged across the top. It came up to the opposite edge of the building and started to tilt downward. I fell to what used to be the ceiling. I could see the whole city miles below us as the elevator teetered and waited for at least one minute.
This was the moment that would determine my personality for the rest of my life. If I surrender to the panic, I will be lost. I will be reprogrammed and live a new life, grace … MACROHARD. If I can hold on to the thought that this is just a prank to drive me crazy, maybe somehow I can survive with my personality intact.
Then, the cab started to free-fall. I felt the back of the cab slam into my shoulders as the green and grey mass of the city below started force feeding itself into my eyes. "MOTHERFUCKIN' MOTHERFUCKER!!!" I closed my eyes screaming as loud as I could. I mentally clamped down on my personality, as if it were a thing. I held it so tight I felt my hands go numb. Then everything stopped.