Chapter 11
Foreword
“So, I actually am a son of those people that Selena thought were her parents? But why did I live in your house and considered you my uncle?” Kevin asked almost indifferently. He was too tired of being surprised, looking for incomprehensible answers to vague questions. Evanford was content enough with the fact that there was no immediate physical threat.
“I think you've figured out that everything has changed on October 12th,” professor slowly walked down the corridor. “But that was the end of a chapter of my life. I'll start from the beginning. Many years ago, there was a man who studied psychology. He wanted to be a scholar, to lecture. Despite his young age, he already saw himself as a professor, was dreaming about his future smart students, about a big library and even about his own mansion. Yes, this man had a vivid imagination. But his life turned out differently – after graduation he started working in the field of applied science, worked in various research centers. He established a good reputation, built some connections, and eventually was invited to work in a private center. He didn't know much about it, but heard that it was connected to the government. He wasn't given much information or time to think it over, but the position was well-paid, and, as he thought, had good career perspectives, so the man agreed,” professor Evanford paused, collectiing his thoughts.
“Why are you talking about yourself in third person?” Kevin asked with the same nonchalance.
“Because that wasn't me. To turn into someone I am now, this man changed more than once – outside, and most definitely inside. In the beginning, his work didn't differ much from what he did before. But after a while he was offered to be an assistant in an experiment that was unusual for him... It went on like this. There was a water tank. Inside of it – a panel with a screen that had a collar attached to it with a short chain. A young fit woman in a swimsuit approached the tank. She had a stylized marine corps emblem tattooed on her left buttock. Woman jumped into the tank and confidently put the collar on. After a signal, the panel started to lower. Various questions appeared on its screen, and the subject had to enter the correct answers on the keyboard. Three right answers unlocked the collar. The woman and the panel emerged, and the test started again. First questions were simple, but they were quickly getting trickier. On her third dive, the subject skipped a question, then the second one. She was getting nervous. Emerged, breathing heavily, and reluctantly locked the collar on her neck. This time, the subject was barely thinking over the questions, skipping a lot without even reading, and only answered a couple when she ran out of oxygen. Her lungs blowing apart, the woman was instinctively trying to tear the collar off. The experimenter changed the question on the screen to a simple equation – it would've been enough for her to press one button to free herself. However, the woman's blank, goggled eyes didn't notice anything any more. Experimenter unlocked the collar, but the subject passed out moments after that. She was pulled out of water and quickly brought back to constiousness. The experiment was over.
He paused, sighed heavily and spoke again:
“There was no better way for it to end. No matter how smart or enduring the subject was, the task was to push him or her to their limit. LHC was researching the depths of human capabilities, trying to reach the bottom. The department where our hero worked was examining the intellectual abilities of a person in stressful situations. Sometimes the subjects, like that woman, were well-trained people who knew about LHC and the risk they'll be taking. But more often than not, the department worked with less... “quality material”. They were picking the inmates, the homeless, the hospital patients that had no close family, that were working on menial jobs... Someone nobody would make fuss about if something goes wrong. Roughly speaking, someone dispensable,” those words made Evanford crook his lips like something very bitter got into his mouth.
“Dispensable?” Kevin repeated slowly. “Is that what it said in your instructions, or is it your personal definition?”
“After that experiment, there were many more,” Henry went on, ignoring his nephew's question. “That man showed himself as a professional, collected and level-headed. But it was only a facade – he was getting more and more curious about what will happen if the experiment will ever be drawn to an end. To the last limit... Obviously, those thoughts didn't just appear out of the blue – he had vague fantasies like that for many years. But working in LHC stimulated them... And gave means of their realisation,” he stopped again. “Once they were conducting a standard experiment on how long can a person answer questions under slight electric shocks. They were administered on even time intervals, and also if the answer was wrong. The voltage was low, but eventually got higher, though it never reached the life-threatening levels. So, it wasn't too pleasant, but not deadly, and for many years, there were no fatal outcomes in this experiment. This time, our character's assistant was summonned to help in a much more important and complicated test, so he was conducting the experiment alone. The subject was a man named Henry Evanford. Over forty, bachelor, no close relatives, dropped out of high school and was working low-paying jobs since then, had problems with alcohol. Like many others, he agreed to the scout's offer to get some quick cash doing almost nothing.
At first, everything went as usual. Man was answering the questions, and the hero of our story was hitting him with electricity from time to time. But the longer he was looking at the subject, the more he wanted to check what happens if conditions will be toughened. After all... This man has almost no value anyway... As if acting on its own will, the hand has increased the voltage. The subject shrieked, but answered the question correctly. Then he made a mistake again and took another shock. Pain was distracting him, making him confused – the next answer was also wrong. Henry Evanford started to protest, demanding to finish the test. That would normally be the end of it, but now the experimenter, ignoring the subject's pleas, asked another question, but the only answer he got was cursing. The experimenter gave him another shock, repeated the question, and, not getting the answer, hit him with electricity again. The subject was screaming, trashing in his chair, but he couldn't help it, pressing the button more and more often, as if the convulsing man was some fakir's dancing snake that hypnotized him. In a few minutes the man fell silent and his body went limp – his weak heart couldn't endure... The experimenter hit the button a few more times and froze,” though professor was trying to describe it like it happened to someone else, it was getting harder and harder to pretend. It was obvious that the events that came alive in his mind were disturbing him, images were vivid before his eyes again.
“...He was looking at the subject's lifeless body, slowly realizing what he has done. His psyche finally fractured. One part of him was repenting in horror, it was the other one that later told everybody that it was an accident. Noone disproved this lie, but somebody who made such a blunder could no longer work for the department. But once you know what LHC is about, simply leaving is impossible – the government never loses sight on most of the people who used to work there. He was asigned to a job in one of the public therapy centres, though he could use some therapy himself. He started to get treatment in one of the private hospitals, and that helped a little, but his twisted thoughts refused to go away. He couldn't stop thinking about elaborated traps... In all the juicy details, he imagined the things that happen if a few subjects will be put into a house where their physical and mental capabilities are tested on every corner, behind every door. Where the consequences of riddles unsolved are getting worse and worse... But the most cruel thing is that this is the game nobody could win,” Evanford's voice got even sadder. “After avoiding a trap, the subject goes straight to another, until he eventually gets stuck and dies. There's no way out of this.”
“Are you trying to say that we're playing that twisted game of yours now?” Kevin frowned. “And there will be no end to this horror? It's really time for me to hate you.”
“No, no, it's not like that!” professor said with a
gitation. “I wasn't the only one whose fears and wishes created this reality. It is possible to win, and then you will leave the Pocket a healthy man, even saving those who failed before you.”
“I assume you're also one of them? What happens if you lose?” from what he could gather, 'losing' here didn't mean 'dying'. Henry's words confirmed his guess:
“The one who loses is drawn into an Endless Cycle. Whatever scares and torments you happens again. And again. And again, and again and again. And again...”
“Got it,” Kevin interrupted him. “What happens to you, for example?” he asked straightforwardly.
“I tried many things to get rid of those memories, of that image in my head...” the man answered, lowering his gaze. “But now I keep running into him... Doing it again and again...”
“Doing what?” his nephew asked as they were turning the corner. Kevin saw a man standing in the middle of a corridor, his stare fixed on professor. Young Evanford heard something cracking and saw a stun gun in his uncle's hand.
“So, you've never stopped?” Kevin asked coldly. “And in the library, even though you've admitted your guilt, you still shocked him to death after Selena left? Yes, you've told that you're weak before, but now I see how true those words actually were. How could you fantasize about an elaborate test for the others if you can't pass the simple endurance test yourself? Realizing that you won't survive the deadly maze that your own mind created, you decided to avoid the extra tortures and go straight to the inevitable end, dumping the onerous task on us... You're not worthy of an emotion as strong as hatred. You're simply pathetic,” Kevin said scornfully and walked further along the corridor.
“Wait!” there was pain in his voice. “You've become a son to me, a smart child that I always wanted, and I never would've harmed you. I'd never give you a task harder than you can cope with! Not long before the decisive scene in my library I took a pencil and thought to myself: even this piece of wood is firmer than me. If it won't break, I will also endure. But if it will... It will mean that my successors are stronger than me, so I could delegate the task to them. Of course, those were nothing but excuses – I'm not trying to accuse you of making me jump out of the window,” Evanford shook his head. “And yet, thought it's too late already... I understand that it won't help anyone, won't prove anything and won't change your attitude... But I do have will power,” he sqeezed the stun gun for a second, then threw it aside.
“Are you really trying to tell that you'll never touch it again?” Kevin raised his eyebrow. After a short pause, his uncle replied:
“Yes. Enough with the self-deception. After all, I'm not a cold-blooded murderer, I'm a human being. While you stay human, you can't rationally prove the uselessness of someone else's life. Every person was of interest and value to me, because in every head there's a complex, unexplored universe... I fully admit my guilt, and I regret.”
“It's all good and well,” young Evanford said dryly. “But I have to go regardless,” he made a couple of steps and turned back: “By the way, how can you tell if you won?”
“Being honest, I've never even thought about it,” professor spread his arms helplessly, “I assume that when it happens, you won't miss it... You won't have any doubts.”
Kevin shrugged, turned away and continued walking, cautiously passing by the silent man. He recalled Henry saying something like that about “true love” once. Once it happens, you have no doubts. But those abstract definitions are of no use.