Ducie by Chris Freeman
Chapter 13. Duties of a spaceman
If Adam was still in the Institution, it was in a part of the building he did not recognise. He’d awoken in a white, clinical looking room that seemed far too spacious for the furniture it actually contained. An unmanned computer terminal resided on the wall opposite where Adam sat, slumped and slowly re-tuning into consciousness. Somewhere near the middle of the room stood a beige, elevated couch, reminiscent of physciatrists probing patients about their childhood for an extortionate hourly rate. Two doors on opposite sides of the room caused a disorientating symmetry that was only cured by looking back at the computer monitor as a reference point. As he struggled to his feet, Adam was the room’s only occupant.
The only other feature of this bare dwelling became apparent to Adam, as a muffled crackle followed by an unfathomable snippet of conversation echoed around the room. As his bleary eyes squinted up at the source of the sound, he noticed two megaphone-like speakers protruding from the top corners of the room. After a moment, the muffled voices faded and the crystal-clear voice of a well spoken, female came to the forefront.
- Adam. Adam, it is important that you stay calm.
- Where the fucking hell am I? You sick bastards! Let me out! I wasn’t doing anything.
The long pause that followed seemed to mock Adam.
- Adam, the steps we are taking here are just precautionary.
- The office was open, you wankers! I didn’t take anything. You’d know if I did. You shot me down as soon as I left the room, you fuckers!
Another pause. Longer this time. Adam felt patronised by the silence. Like a child being given time to cool down from a tantrum by his Mother.
- This isn’t about what you took Adam.
The injustice of it all was sending his temper into overdrive. There is something degrading to an inhumane degree about being criminalized like this with no justification. Adam swung a kick that was absorbed with insulting ease by the wall at which it was thrown. Falling to his knees and clutching his toes in pain, he began banging his head repeatedly against the solid perimeters of this clinical chamber. Each strike of his head against the plaster sent a bright blue flash around his vision, which quickly dissipated, before he struck again, and again, and again.
An alarm droned around the room at an offensive volume, likely made to seem louder by the exclusively solid surfaces off which the piercing sound rebounded. Adam continued to inflict self harm.
- Bastards! Bastards! Bastards! Bastards! Bastards! Arrrrrrrggggghhhhhh!
One of the two doors clicked loudly as its long disengaged, and two identical souls resembling spacemen, their descriptions hidden behind white protective suits and masks rushed in to the room. One restrained Adam with quite amusing ease, even finding two spare hands to place shackles on him, whilst pinning him to the floor with one knee, as he struggled. Spaceman number one secured a crash helmet to Adam’s head, presumably for protection, but in his heightened state of emotion, it felt to Adam more like a dunce hat; a further, unnecessary humiliation.
Spaceman number two stood at the computer terminal and after entering a few brief keystrokes, strode back towards the door he had entered through, followed quickly by his accomplice.
The door closed and the lock clunked back into its engaged position. The voice returned.
- Adam, are you conscious? Can you hear me Adam?
He squirmed his way backwards towards the wall, his bound feet and his back working in unison to walk his body up the wall into a sitting position. Through gritted teeth and driven to comply only by a desire to get answers, Adam responded.
- Fuck…you! I can hear you. Can you hear me? Fuck…you!
- Adam, this isn’t about what you took.
Breathing heavily, more through anger than exertion, Adam could not find a reply in himself.
- Adam, this isn’t about what you took…it is about what you might have seen.
Confusion rioted inside his wounded head, as he tried to make sense of what he was hearing. Still he couldn’t find the energy to respond. If this whole episode was designed to relieve him of his will and integrity, it was close to succeeding. At that, the door opposite the one that the spacemen had just exited through clunked and swung open. Adam stared towards it, a defeated, breathless expression defining his face. He briefly entertained a hopeless fantasy of wriggling his way towards it, hands and feet bound, helmet ricocheting off the cold, hard floor as he wormed his way to freedom. A silhouette appeared in the doorway. Not much more could shock, hurt or humiliate him further, so he thought.
So he thought until Kate Gaffney walked gingerly to the middle of the room, close enough that he could hear her, but with an obvious desire to keep a cautious distance.
- Hello Adam. This isn’t what you think. Everything’s going to be fine. Just do what they say, ok?