I Don't Recall Volunteering - Part 3

“All in good time?”, I repeated. “This is most definitely NOT a good time. Frankly, my dear doctor, your stalling is really getting on my nerves.”

“So I can tell, my dear...”, he began.

“And would you stop calling me ‘dear‘” I interrupted, “like I am some helpless... woman.” I fairly spat out the last word. “I am not a woman, and I am most certainly not helpless. Let me reword my previous questions in a format that you can hopefully understand: Why have you done this to me?” I actually managed to work some menace into those last seven words, letting him know that my patience was rapidly approaching its end.

He got out of his chair, and walked in the general direction of the door. He stopped and turned to me. “Well,” he said, “how about this: I will explain how all of this relates to you, if you consent to come with me to the examination area. Does that sound reasonable? I need to run a few tests to check on your progress and general health. What I have to explain to you will require even more background, and I am a busy man. Might as well kill two birds with one stone, yes?”

Well, the chance to see the rest of wherever I was staying was too good to pass up. With more information, I would have a better chance of escape. Whether or not this doctor was telling the truth was irrelevant. He still abducted me, and who knows how many others, and needed to be stopped. I got out of my chair, and walked towards him.

“Ah, I’ve seen that look before” he said, as if answering my thoughts. “You are no doubt thinking about getting a look around, so that you can make good your escape. I can assure you that will not be possible. But rather than you taking my word for it, I think you should have a demonstration of what happens when a guest at our facility tries to do something that we do not allow.”

He looked up at the ceiling and said to the air in general, “Deborah?”

“Yes, Doctor?” answered a disembodied woman‘s voice.

“Please show Daisy here the consequence of unacceptable behaviour, such as an escape attempt.”

“Of course, doctor. Ready as always.”

“Sorry, doc, but who is Daisy?”, I asked, fearing I knew the answer already.

“Why, you are, of course. You can scarcely be as pretty as you are and retain your original male name, now can you? I think it is quite a lovely name; don‘t you?”, he replied in a rather condescending tone.

That did it; I was really pissed off. I clenched my right hand into a fist, and lunged towards him, preparing to drive a few teeth down his throat. I made it halfway before every muscle in my body went completely slack. I fell, and was kept from injury only by the doctor catching me.

“That,” he said, as he lowered me gently to the floor, “is the consequence of inappropriate behaviour. Complete loss of control of your voluntary nervous system, via a radio signal to a small implant in your brain. There are a series of small sensors in your cranium that detect the onset of a potentially violent act, and you can see the result. This system is also tied in to all doors and windows in this building. No one leaves without my consent. Oh, and the voice you heard? That is Deborah, the A.I. security system. ’She’ is on duty 24/7, and has yet to be fooled, overridden, or hacked by any guest here.”

“Now then, are you ready to come with me to the examination room? Oh, that’s right - you aren’t in a state to answer. Deborah”, he called out, ”please restore our guest.”

“Right away, Doctor Westham.”

I tentatively moved the fingers on my right hand, then my right arm, and finally other parts of my body. I got myself up off the floor, refusing the assistance that my host offered. I felt no pain, or other physical side effects, from being ‘stunned‘. Still, it was unnerving - being stopped dead in my tracks, with no warning.

“Please, follow me”, the doctor requested. Still a bit off balance by what had just happened, I meekly followed him out the door and down the hall.



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