Chapter 8:
In wasn’t even the middle of December when the plaster on John’s right leg was removed and it was X-rayed. Isaac was stunned. The healing was almost complete, though a nasty scar would be left. The plaster could be left off. The left leg was apparently totally healed except for the inevitable scarring. John said with relief that it was about time.
Two days later, John was frightened. Something was wrong. He had a nightmare and woke screaming, fighting the bedclothes and finally falling to the floor. He was locked in, of course, and could only pace back and forth across the room until his leg became too painful and he had to sit. It was nearly dawn before he slept again.
But everything seemed normal in the morning, and he went about his usual activities, except that he was unable to walk far, having done too much in the night. He was nervous though, jumping violently when Rudy spoke to him unexpectedly. For a change, he hadn’t noticed him come close.
“I wish you’d wear a solid color,” he said pettishly. “I can’t see you in that.”
“What, even standing here?” said Rudy, very surprised.
“I don’t see well, surely you know that!”
He spoke irritably, and Rudy wondered what was wrong. But John didn’t know what was wrong.
Early in the afternoon, Rudy’s zoster vibrated in his pocket. “We have to take you to Ward 3,” he told John.
They were outside, and John looked at him, suddenly terrified, and put a hand to the trunk of a tree as if for strength. Bob and Lance were also there.
“We’d best go.”
John didn’t move. His eyes were wide, and his guards could see his fright. Bob spoke, puzzled. “There’s no reason to think there’s anything wrong. It’s probably just another official or some such thing.”
John looked into the distance and spoke softly. “When a lab rat is no longer useful, they kill it and do a dissection. They call it to ‘sacrifice’ the animal.”
There was a brief silence before Bob told him roughly not to be so silly. John didn’t move and Rudy said soothingly. “I’ll ask what it is.”
The sound from his zoster was not loud, and John watched as Rudy queried, and explained that John was frightened. John shook his head. He might be frightened, but he would not be able to stop them, no matter what they wanted to do. He was not so frightened of dying, but the idea that his body would be dissected for ‘scientific research’ filled him with a feeling of loathing and despair. But he took a deep breath, assumed a cool expression, stood straight and started walking.
His guards were relieved. The three of them could overpower him, of course. In fact, any one of them should be able to, and without using any weapons. But they far preferred not to come into open conflict with him.
Isaac and Mark waited for him in Ward 3. Mark gave a casual reply to the usual respectful salutes of the guards, and said that one should stay, the others wait outside. Isaac said reassuringly to John that there was nothing to worry about, and half laughed as he told him that he was certainly not a lab rat that was about to be ‘sacrificed.’
John still wore his expressionless mask, and only leaned against the wall and waited. Isaac glanced at Mark, and said, “We’re your friends, you can trust us.”
But perfectly coolly, John replied, “You are not my friends, you are my jailers.”
Mark said rather stiffly that he was no longer a jailer, as he was leaving, and Colonel Forster would be taking his place.
John said politely that it had been nice to know him, but he began trembling, even as he still wore his impassive pose. Mark looked at him a moment, and then abruptly turned and left, not staying to watch, but going to his office to pack his personal possessions.
Colonel Forster was in the observation room, and had noted the limp. John was a bit pale, too, from a collapse the previous day, though it hadn’t lasted long. And now he was trembling. Forster smiled to himself. He certainly wasn’t fearsome. Forster planned to get a lot more results, a lot faster than Bedville. He entered the room, Lance opening the door for him, before resuming his position outside with Bob. Rudy, Isaac and John waited.
Colonel Forster strode in, addressing John. “Things will be changing,” he said. “You’ve been coddled. You’ve had it soft. From now on, if you do not cooperate fully when tests are made, you will be punished. For a start, you are about to have another brain scan as Doctor Berg requires, one in which you remain conscious, as it is likely to give different results to those done when drugged or in a coma.”
Isaac was looking worried. He had mentioned that he’d like a brain scan, but that was all. John’s expression didn’t change. Forster’s face creased into a slight smile. “You cannot be trusted to stay still, so you will be firmly restrained.”
With a sudden movement, John took two steps forward, and knocked him out with a very hard fist to the jaw. Rudy grabbed John by the arm, and he staggered slightly, but then only leaned against the wall again, and his slight trembling resumed.
Isaac knelt by the side of Forster, gently touching his jaw. He gave a worried look at John. “You’ve broken his jaw - badly.”
Rudy spoke softly, “Shit, John, you’re in trouble now.”
“I rather think I was already in trouble,” John said.
There were already communications flying, and Bob opened the door. “We’re to put him in his quarters for the time being.”
The three guards were very alert for any aggressive action, and John knew that this time they wouldn’t hesitate to physically restrain him. He made no trouble, only entering his rooms as instructed and putting on a film to watch, selected at random. He looked up. He was being observed, and he now knew the position of at least one of the cameras.
He had to get away. It was no longer just homesickness, there was an acute feeling of insecurity. There didn’t seem any way that he could escape unless he could somehow access that power that he’d seen just once on film, and didn’t quite believe in. But all he’d managed so far was to somehow trigger the head pains that caused him such unbearable agony. It was a high price to pay. He couldn’t attempt anything here of course, it might be seen, and when he had tried things, he’d made sure that it would not be picked up on camera. Just tiny things, like trying to make a blade of grass disappear, and he couldn’t do that. He reminded himself that Mark firmly believed he had a power, and Mark Bedville was a shrewd man. It was more urgent now.
No-one came for a long time, and John found it impossible to stay still. He paced back and forth across the room. Sometimes he stared forlornly out of the window, wanting the light of outdoors. He could always see better outdoors. A few times, he tried the door, though he had no expectation that it might not be locked.
Finally, the buzzer sounded. Someone was finally coming. He didn’t try anything stupid like rushing the door, just stood back and waited as Rudy, Zack, Bob and Lance all came in, looking grim. John wore again that cold, impassive face that concealed his emotion. He jumped. Please, John, you have to behave. It was Zack. Zack didn’t know whether John would hear. His telepathy was only guessed at, and was quite obviously, not complete. It didn’t seem as if he could really read minds, just that he sometimes had an abnormal sensitivity.
They escorted their prisoner back to Ward 3, the only comment was from Zack. “Colonel Forster is in hospital, having his jaw wired up.”
John felt a satisfaction. He was not normally a vindictive man, but he’d felt Forster’s pleasure as he contemplated a picture. And he’d seen the picture that Forster saw, of ‘the subject’ fighting against the restraints as he was manoeuvred into that terrifying space of the scanning machine. He’d been naked, and uncovered, though why he should have been naked in that context was unclear. It was Forster’s picture, not reality. John’s face remained expressionless.
Mark waited for him, with a cold and authoritative persona. He was being very firmly the Colonel. Bob and Rudy stood right beside John, each of them holding an arm as
if to restrain him. Zack and Lance flanked Mark, standing a little in front of him. John was being treated as if he were a dangerous prisoner, and yet the feel of his guards didn’t quite match. John stayed still and waited.
The Colonel’s voice was cold. “You have attacked a high ranking officer.”
Suddenly, John felt something of his thoughts, too. Mark had his fingers figuratively crossed, and John’s eyes flicked to where he knew a camera watched. This play was for the camera.
“You will be punished,” said Mark, “and security will be tightened.” But aside from being confined to Ward 3 for the rest of the day and night, the long list of regulations were only those already in place, although they sounded different when delivered in the cold, judgmental voice of the Colonel. Mark came to an end. “Clear?”
John answered in soldierly fashion, “Yes, Sir.”
Mark nodded, “Very well, but I want to show you one thing more.”
He nodded to Lance. Lance was a big man as all his guards were. Zack tried to send a message again to John, a message of reassurance as, one by one, Lance displayed the weapons he carried, the handgun whose capabilities Mark enumerated, the baton, and the stun gun, whose use that one time had nearly killed John. The capabilities of the stun gun were explained in detail. “The guards will not hesitate to use any of these weapons if they deem it necessary. There will be no more attacks on army personnel.”
John said, “I understand, Sir.” It was not a promise not to attack a soldier, but Mark didn’t push his luck. The scene had gone a lot better than expected. John was unpredictable, and never had treated him with any exaggerated respect. This piece of film might help him stay in charge of the facility. There were few candidates, as John’s existence was kept very quiet.
More hours of boredom, confined in the room that he hated. But John knew that he’d been let off very lightly. He suspected that he was a lot safer with Mark in charge, even though he so seldom saw him. He did a lot of pacing that day, until his leg became too sore. Mark was sorry for him, but some punishment was needed, even if only to show the general.
While John fretted against his close confinement, Mark had an argument with his wife. He wanted to cancel their planned three weeks’ holiday, and couldn’t tell her why, as John’s existence was top secret. With Forster out of action, unable to talk, probably for months, the decision to replace him had been reversed, at least temporarily.
That Forster was to take over had been communicated to the Colonel just an hour before he arrived. But John seemed to have felt a warning well before then. For the first time, it had been reported that there had been a nightmare, and Mark watched the film - the awakening cry of terror, and his quivering agitation after as he paced the room. His guards reported his unusual irritability and nervousness that morning, as well. And there was his obvious fear when they’d been told to report to Ward 3, although similar things had happened before and he’d not seemed particularly disturbed at those times.
Mark knew that he must be feeling very insecure, worried that again there would be a change. Maybe he would become dangerous or suicidal, or maybe he would find himself able to access that mysterious power that even Mark sometimes doubted, in spite of the evidence. Mark wanted to stay, but his second-in-command had his orders and would follow his policies, unchanged. And then Mark had his orders, too. His wife would not concede. Mark would be going on holidays, and Major Greenspan was to be in command for those weeks.
Greenspan was a superstitious man, thoroughly nervous of the inexplicable. He’d always declined to meet John. ‘Best to remain objective,’ he said, and Mark agreed with that stated reason. There was no fear that John would be deliberately killed for dissection, as he’d suggested - it was supposed to be a civilized country. But there was a possibility that one day he might have to be killed for other reasons, such as if he seemed too dangerous, or, of course, if he was about to make his escape. And if he was killed, for whatever reason, it was quite certain that his body would be very thoroughly examined.
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