Ophelia

Chapter 2 - The underground-1

Chapter 2 - The underground

Ophelia was not sure how long she had been standing alone in the darkness. All she knew was that, without sight or sound, she felt dead. She felt strangely relieved to hear footsteps walking toward her.

‘Come with us,’ someone said in the same robotic voice as before.

They gripped her arms tightly.

‘You’re hurting me,’ she said.

But they did not loosen their grip, not for a second. They marched her down a tunnel with light so dim, she could barely see one step ahead. There was nothing more than a thin strip of white light, where the floor met the walls, and it did little to illuminate the tunnel.

‘Are you human?’ Ophelia asked.

They did not respond.

‘Are you robots?’ she asked.

Still, they did not respond.

‘Seriously, what are you? And where are you taking me?’

Again, there was no response.

‘Will you at least tell me where we are?’ Ophelia asked, shrill with terror. ‘What is this place? What is happening?’

Eventually, her captors stopped walking. One of them pointed a palm-sized disc at the wall which caused a doorway to appear. It slid open and they stepped into a room that was only slightly brighter than the tunnel. They walked Ophelia over to a lonely chair in the center of the room then stepped back.

As she looked around, Ophelia could see there were no other chairs or objects in the room, just open space. And as far as she could tell, there were no other people. She looked over her shoulder at her captors who were standing at the back of the room, legs apart and arms folded behind their backs.

A large round spotlight shone directly into Ophelia’s face, almost blinding her. And from behind the light, she heard footsteps.

‘Sit down!’ a voice bellowed from the same direction.

Ophelia sat on the little white chair and continued to stare ahead. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she could make out the shape of three men sitting in a row, facing her. They wore the same black masks as her captors. And they were dressed in the same white suits, but with the addition of red bands around their upper arms and thin red stripes down the sides of their legs. The man in the middle was so tall and so thin that Ophelia considered the possibility he was not human.

The spectacle before her was so strange, it occurred to her, for just a moment, that her theater arts student might be playing a wild prank on her.

‘You are hereby charged with sedition,’ said one of them. ‘How do you plead?’

Ophelia laughed, partly because the statement was absurd and partly because she was terrified. She was also perturbed by the strangely distorted voice of the person speaking. Just like her captors, this person, if in fact, it was a person, had done something to their voice to make themselves sound like a bot.

‘Answer me!’ the voice boomed.

‘Sedition?’ Ophelia echoed. ‘That was decriminalized centuries ago!’

‘An educated one,’ said someone else.

‘It makes no difference,’ said another.

‘What the hell is going on here?’ Ophelia asked.

Somehow, the room got even darker. Then a holo-film played in the air between Ophelia and her interrogators. During the next few seconds, it showed her scores of images of centuries of awful punishment – people being hanged, drawn and quartered, burned to death, skinned alive, shot with guns, stabbed, beheaded, stoned to death, tortured. It was too much.

Ophelia closed her eyes and put her head down.

The holo-film stopped then a spotlight shone directly into her face.

‘You’ve just seen human history,’ said one of the men. ‘It was the glorious history of crime and punishment. We are, however, more merciful these days. We bring death to criminals far more quickly and painlessly than our ancestors did.’

‘After we’ve had a bit of fun with them,’ said another man.

‘Indeed,’ said another.

‘What in the world is going on here?’ Ophelia asked.

‘Don’t you understand your crime?’ one of them asked.

‘No, I don’t,’ Ophelia replied. ‘I find this entire performance utterly bizarre.’

‘This is not a performance,’ said one of the men. ‘And it is not bizarre. The laws of society are not bizarre, s**t. The laws of society create clarity, stability and the capacity for our civilization to progress.’

‘The laws of society do not permit a*******n,’ Ophelia replied. ‘Nor do they permit the removal of human organs without consent! And they certainly do not permit the murder of unborn babies! There is nothing civilized about any of that!’

‘She’s quite feisty, isn’t she?’ said one of the men.

‘Surgical procedures are performed in hospitals every day,’ said another. ‘They are always done for the good of the individual and for the good of society.’

‘How dare you!’ Ophelia shouted. ‘No good can come from the murder of babies!’

‘You chose to get pregnant,’ said one of the men. ‘Even though you were aware that you were required, by law, to use a surrogate, you chose to become pregnant. You deliberately disregarded the law, so you were punished. That punishment was the removal of your womb and fetus, but you would not accept that, and you would not stop shouting about it, so you are hereby charged with sedition.’

‘Who are you?’ Ophelia asked.

‘We are the Sentinels,’ said another voice.

‘The Sentinels of what?’ she asked.

‘That is not your concern,’ another one answered.

‘It is my concern if you’re charging me with something,’ Ophelia argued. ‘And what is this place, anyway?’

‘We are 900 meters below the surface in a research facility,’ one of the voices replied. ‘This is where the rules of society are made.’

‘And executed,’ said another.

‘What?’ Ophelia said, still incredulous.

‘You are charged with sedition. How do you plead?’

‘This is insane!’ Ophelia shrieked. ‘How can I possibly respond to these charges if there is no discussion and no proper hearing of the facts? And on whose authority are you doing this, anyway? I demand to know!’

‘You’re in no position to make demands,’ said one of the voices.

‘You people have no right to do what you’re doing,’ Ophelia said.

The incredibly tall man stood up and walked toward her. As he blocked the spotlight, it was only his ghastly thin silhouette that Ophelia could see. She felt certain he was at least 230 centimeters tall. Only a bot could be that tall, she mused, but when he lowered his face to hers, she caught the sour stench of his breath.

‘You have no rights,’ he hissed. ‘You are a s**t and a menace to society. You serve no useful function in the world. You are a pointless waste of oxygen and water. You will be imprisoned until we decide your final punishment.’

Then he stood up and motioned to the guards standing behind her.

The next thing Ophelia knew, she was being dragged down another tunnel. As far as she could tell, her legs had just become two useless appendages dangling from the end of her torso.

She was not sure how long it took, but eventually her captors opened another door and threw her in.

As she fell to the floor, Ophelia twisted ankle and cried out in pain. Alone in the darkness, she felt utterly bewildered. But of one thing she was certain, things were probably about to get much worse.

When Ophelia awoke, she felt refreshed, despite her awkward position on the concrete floor of the prison cell. It was pitch dark, except for the dim light that shone down from the ceiling to the center of the room. She crawled to one of the walls where it was darker and rested her cheek against the concrete, hoping to avoid being seen by any passing Sentinel or guard. Her body odor was offensive, even to her, but she took some comfort in the notion that it might keep the mongrels away from her.

Then someone entered the cell. Who, or what, she could not tell at first. But when it stood under the light, she recognized the form as a human male. He sat on the floor and stared at her.

‘Don’t come any closer,’ Ophelia said, pressing her back against the wall. ‘I swear to God, I will kick you in the face.’

Her voice felt thin and her throat was painfully dry.

‘You need to drink,’ said the man, rolling a bottle of water along the floor toward Ophelia.

She grabbed the bottle, ripped it open and guzzled the water so fast, most of it ran down her chin and throat. Next, the man threw her a food bar which she devoured that just as quickly.

‘It tastes like plastic,’ she said. ‘But I feel better now.’

‘I thought you would,’ the man replied.

‘Why do all you people speak with that strange, robotic voice?’ Ophelia asked.

‘That’s one of many things I wish to explain to you,’ the man replied. ‘But first, I want to get you out of here, cleaned up and changed before anyone notices you’re missing.’

He moved toward her.

‘I mean it,’ Ophelia hissed. ‘I will kick you in the face if you try to touch me.’

‘Okay, listen,’ said the man. ‘The longer you stay down here, the longer you’re in danger. Please let me help you.’

Slowly, Ophelia stood up, clutching the wall.

‘Let’s go,’ said the man, beckoning her with his arm.

Ophelia took one step forward then winced in pain. Her sprained ankle did not feel good. She took another careful step toward the man then wrapped her arm around his shoulder. And with a tenderness that surprised her, he wrapped his arm around her waist.

‘I’m so hungry,’ she cried.

‘I know,’ he said. ‘I’ll give you more food in a minute, I promise.’

He opened the door, then leaned into the tunnel and looked around.

‘All clear,’ he said, giving her a gentle squeeze.

Together, they shuffled down the tunnel for a few meters. The man pointed a disc at the wall which caused a door to appear. It slid open and they stepped into a small, brightly lit room with a steel basin cut into the wall.

‘A sonic shower!’ Ophelia cried with relief.

‘Just a minute,’ said the man, lowering her onto a bench seat.

He pulled another food bar from his pocket and gave it to her.

‘Eat this while I check your ankle,’ he said.

Ophelia barely felt any discomfort while the man manipulated her foot.

‘The good news is, your ankle is not broken,’ he said. ‘The bad news is, you stink.’

‘I know,’ Ophelia replied, swallowing the last of the nutrition bar.

‘Are you okay?’ the man asked.

Ophelia looked down at her filthy arms and hands.

‘They’ve taken my bracelet,’ she said. ‘It had all my personal data on it, including my medical records. Why would they do such a thing?’

‘They’ll be reading your messages,’ the man replied.

‘For God’s sake, why?’ Ophelia asked.

‘They’ll want to know if anyone has noticed you’re missing, who they are and where they live.’

‘You people are monsters, aren’t you?’ said Ophelia.

‘Not all of us are monsters,’ the man replied. ‘But I understand why you feel that way.’

Ophelia looked at him for a moment, silently processing her sense of him, but coming to no conclusion at all. She did not know what to think or feel, especially as she could not see his face or hear his natural voice. It felt like conversing with a bot.

‘Please open your mouth,’ said the man. ‘I need to take a sample of your saliva to make your mask.’

Ophelia just stared at him.

‘You’ll need a disguise if you want to get out of here,’ he said. ‘You do want to get out of here, don’t you?’

Ophelia opened her mouth. The scraping was gentle and quick. She watched the man insert the scraper into the side of this disc. When it beeped, he held the disc to her face until it beeped again.

‘Okay, I’ve got all the data I need,’ he said. ‘I just need to take this to the lab. I’ll be back in a few minutes during which time, you should really shower.’

Then he was gone.

With great relief, Ophelia peeled her soiled clothes from her body and let them fall to the floor. Never had she appreciated a sonic shower as much as this one. It blasted the grime from every pore and crevice, making her feel reborn. She pushed her fingers through her thick curly hair, lifting it away from her scalp, allowing the sonar to blast it clean.