Expedited Treatment
CHAPTER 2
The assistant decided after seven hours and four minutes that the magnetic stimulation had done its job.
In theory, the recommended length for the expedited treatment was eight hours. But practice had proven six sufficient. Seven made it certain. Eight was overkill: once the mind turned entirely open and pliable, more magnetic pulses didn’t deepen its blank state. The rest of the work had to be done manually.
He turned off the device, and the quiet hum filling the room faded. With unhurried moves, he removed the earbuds and disconnected wires. The subject, of course, reclined supine in her seat, her empty stare fixed on the screen. The serene stillness of her expression was endearingly doll-like.
When at last he removed the helmet, her hair spilled out, smelling faintly of strawberry. The assistant smiled and pushed a stray lock from her temple. She showed no reaction. The lights remained dim, and the glow of the screen illuminated her face, reflecting in her glazed, unmoving eyes.
He tapped his tablet, recording the time he’d disconnected the transcranial stimulation device. Another tap, and the spiral onscreen blinked off.
“Let the fun begin,” he murmured, and he undid her restraints and turned on the lights.
For several minutes, the subject kept staring vacantly at the spot where the spiral had been. He waited; patience was an integral part of his job.
At last, she blinked a few times, and her rhythmic breath sped up. Her head twitched, and an inarticulate noise, vaguely interrogatory, came from her throat.
She turned her head and her glassy eyes focused on him. “Wh—what...? What are you...”
Her legs kicked out weakly, and one hand fumbled for the armrest. She tried to push herself to a sitting position, but the chair’s recline made it difficult. The assistant let her try for a few moments, then he raised a hand, palm up, and tapped it with his other hand.
“See the spiral here.”
She blinked, confused. “What...?” But her eyes had focused on his empty palm.
“The spiral fills the world,” he said.
Breath escaped her lips in a surprised gasp, and her struggles to sit up faltered. Her gaze, dazed and uncertain, flickered briefly away from his open palm, before returning to it.
“The spiral fills the world,” he said again, and the subject’s eyes glazed over. Her furrowed brow relaxed, and her mouth went slack.
“My mind rests in the spiral,” she said, tonelessly.
“The spiral leads the world,” he said.
“My will follows the spiral.” Her expression had lost any trace of animation and was once again perfect, doll-like placidity.
“The spiral is the world.”
“I exist only in the spiral.”
The assistant made another note on his tablet. “Perfect response,” he murmured. “We’re going to run a few more checks. You will obey my instructions and answer all my questions.”
The subject said nothing. She had not been instructed to respond.
“Do you understand?” he tested.
“I understand.” Her lips barely moved, just enough to form the words. The rest of her expression remained lifelessly calm.
“Will you obey my voice?”
“I will obey your voice.”
“Good.” He’d processed a dozen subjects and witnessed a dozen more, and not one had reached the end of the fourth phase with anything but a perfect willingness to obey.
There was just the matter of small, subconscious pockets of resistance to iron out. And he loved doing that.
“How do you feel?” he asked, and he smiled as she blinked dully. A second, then—
“How do I feel?”
Perfect. The instructions had taught her, when she did not know the answer to a question, to repeat it back to the asker.
“You feel calm, blank, and obedient,” he said. She showed no reaction, but he knew the words had etched themselves into her psyche.
“How do you feel?” he asked again, and this time there was no hesitation.
“I feel calm, blank, and obedient.”
“Good. Do you know where you are?”
“I know only I must obey the spiral.”
He smiled. Perfect response again. “Do you remember how you got here?”
“I remember only the spiral.”
“Mm.” He tapped the tablet again. “Basic standard responses... optimal. Do you remember your name?”
She blinked. “I remember only...” Her stare remained vacant, but her eyebrows twitched imperceptibly, as though trying to frown. “I...”
Ah, the effects of the expedited process. Under the regular treatment, her memory would’ve been fully benighted by the end. But the magnetic stimulation was a little unpredictable when it came to the deeper layers of memory.
“I remember...” She was still trying to answer, her expression a fascinating mix of blankness and confusion. “I...I...” She shook her head, her hazy gaze still glued to his palm.
“The spiral fills the world,” he said again, and her confusion faded back into placidity.
“My mind rests in the spiral.”
“The spiral leads the world.”
“My will follows the spiral.”
“The spiral is the world.”
“I exist only in the spiral.” Any uncertainty was gone; she stared at his palm, eyes wide and glassy, and recited her programmed instructions with perfect calm.
“You remember only the spiral,” he said. “Nothing else. Confirm.”
“I remember only the spiral,” she said easily. “Nothing else.”
“Good. Tell me your name.”
She opened her mouth but said nothing, just continued staring fixedly at his empty hand.
The assistant smiled. “Do you remember your name?”
“I remember only the spiral.”
Perfect. He tested a few more times, asking basic questions about her identity and carefully blanking any spots the treatment had failed to erase, until he was convinced her memory was entirely blocked.
Then it was time to test her resistance.
“When I snap my fingers once, like this,” (he snapped them), “you’ll once again recall all your memories. When I snap them twice, you will again forget everything. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
He snapped his fingers. She showed no reaction, not even a twitch of her slack expression.
“Tell me your name,” he said.
“My name is Sydney Marie Sheridan.”
Good. “Tell me your bank name, your account totals, and the passcodes to access those accounts.”
She rattled off the information calmly. He hadn’t expected much resistance there—while some subjects did struggle against revealing financial information, it was a rare resistance spot—but he had to check.
He noted her reaction on the tablet, then went on: “Tell me your home address, the code to your door, and where you keep your spare keys.”
She did. She also told him with no hesitation what times she might be home alone, her sleep routine, and the best times to get into her house unobserved and surprise her. So, her home or personal safety weren’t resistance spots, either.
Neither was loyalty to loved ones. When prompted, she blankly recited her sister’s and best friends’ addresses and schedules, and showed no reaction when told they’d be taken and brought in for psyche-reshaping.
“What a perfect little subject you are,” murmured the assistant. “Surrendered so nicely to the treatment. You’ll do everything you’re told, won’t you?”
“I’ll do everything I’m told.”
He scrolled to the next check on his tablet and smiled.
“Stand up and remove your clothes,” he instructed, and the woman stood in a smooth move and pulled off her sundress, then took off the bra and bikini under it, until she stood naked before him.
The assistant eyed her appreciatively. “Very nice. And no resistance, either. Some subjects struggle against nudity. A vulnerability thing, is my theory.”
She made no response, but simply stood, arms relaxed at her side and gaze still fixed, blankly, on his palm.
“But being naked doesn’t bother you, does it?”
“Being naked doesn’t bother me,” she agreed easily.
“Do you enjoy taking off your clothes before strangers? Do you do this often?”
“I don’t do this often. I don’t enjoy taking off my clothes before strangers.”
“Then why doesn’t that bother you now?”
She blinked. “Why doesn’t that bother me now?”
The assistant chuckled. “It doesn’t bother you because you’re obeying orders. Kneel.”
She did, her head tilting up so she could keep staring at his hand. The assistant stepped closer and cupped her chin.
“Look into my eyes.” He always loved meeting their fogged, unaware gazes. So sweetly, endearingly blank. “I’m not a creep, just so you know. I mean, obviously this is enjoyable, but I’m really only running through the standard resistance checks. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
He could’ve told her he was a shape-shifting lizard from outer space just then and she’d have agreed just as earnestly. Still...like the Boss said, it was important to explain things to the subjects.
“Get back in the chair and be still.” When she’d complied, he reclined the chair again, extending the footrest, until she was nearly horizontal. He put a hand on her thigh. “I’m going to touch your naked body, wherever I want. Do you want me to stop?”
Her even breathing hadn’t even hitched. “I want only to obey the spiral.”
The suspended volition was still in full effect. Good.
“If you want me to stop touching you, all you have to do is say ‘stop’. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
His hands wandered over her skin, from her inner thighs, to her soft abdomen, to the curve of her breasts. He stroked her areolas and drew slow circles around her nipples, ran his fingers down the tender skin of her throat, traced her slack lips. She showed no reaction, only continued to stare vacantly into his eyes.
“Usually by now most subjects show at least a little twitch of resistance,” he murmured. “But I guess the expedited treatment is pretty thorough...and hey, I’m not complaining.”
He let his fingers slide between her legs, stroking gently her folds. She wasn’t aroused—not bone-dry, either, which would’ve been impossible when her body was so relaxed, but not really slick. He caressed her a few times and sighed as she showed no more reaction than before.
“Bodily and sexual autonomy aren’t resistance spots, either, then. You’re really quite deeply obedient, aren’t you?”
“I’m really quite deeply obedient,” she agreed.
The assistant shrugged. Some people just took well to the treatment. Not everyone held onto shreds of resistance, before surrendering.
“Too bad. If you showed even a hint of struggle, we might’ve continued this little game a while longer. But I really can’t justify spending too much time on this when you’re so pliant. Spread your legs for me.”
She complied instantly. He slid a finger inside her and felt not one twitch of resistance. She had all the tonus of a rag doll.
Oh, well.
He withdrew his hand and put his fingers to her lips. “Kiss my fingers.” He smiled as she did. “Well, you’re obeying very nicely. You’d let me use your body however I wanted, wouldn’t you?”
“I’d let you use my body however you wanted.”
He snapped his fingers twice. “Tell me your name.”
She stared emptily into his eyes, mouth open but silent.
“You’re just perfect,” he murmured. “A perfect little doll.”
He traced a finger down her cheek, then along her neck, down to the collarbone. She truly had a tempting body, soft and enticing in all the right places.
“Pity we only have you for two days. I’d enjoy exploring the depths of your body and your mind...Stand up.”
He helped her out of the chair and watched her stand placidly beside it, breathing slowly.
“Too bad I can’t just ask you where your resistance spots are. But subjects are never aware of their last shreds of resistance. Isn’t that right?”
“That’s right,” she agreed pleasantly, making him chuckle.
“In fact, you have no thoughts of resistance at all, do you?”
“I have no thoughts of resistance at all.”
“And yet somewhere in your psyche, there are a few jagged bits our treatment hasn’t yet smoothed...Well, we can only achieve that much by automated training.” He grinned. “That’s why folks like me have a job. We finish the process.” He snapped his fingers once. “Tell me your greatest fear.”
“My greatest fear is being bitten by snakes,” she said.
“Ah.” He stepped to the far wall, sliding open a large in-wall cabinet. “Hear that one a lot. Spiders, too, and needles and heights and small spaces...Much easier to work with than abstract fears, like never finding love or being exposed as a fraud. Ah, here.”
He pulled out a handful of rubber snakes, all painted realistically in rattlesnake or blackadder colors. He set them on the floor, coiled around each other.
“These are real snakes. You can see them move, hear them hissing. Look at them. Do you see the snakes?”
Her gaze fixed the floor. “I see the snakes.” Her voice had taken on a barely-perceptible breathless quality.
“Walk over to them.”
Her body moved, but haltingly. After three steps, she stumbled and froze, her breath gasping and her limbs quaking. Her eyes, still fixed on the rubber snakes, had widened, the whites far more pronounced, and her cheeks had flushed.
Fear: it never failed to elicit a resistance response.
“Walk over to the snakes,” the assistant repeated. She bucked in place, taking another half-step then falling to her knees. A strangled noise burst from her throat. Her body twitched, half-moving forward to comply with the command, half flinching back.
The assistant tapped the empty wall beside him. “See the spiral here.”
The woman’s frantic eyes slid to the bare, grey metal. She was breathless with panic, sweat trickling down her bare skin.
“The spiral fills the world,” he said, and she shook her head but spoke, though panting:
“My...mind...rests in the spiral...”
“The spiral leads the world.”
“My...will...follows the spiral.”
“The spiral is the world.”
“I exist only in the spiral...”
Her breathing began to even out, though her cheeks remained flushed. Her blinks were still a litle fast.
“You will obey the spiral without question, without hesitation, without thought. Confirm.”
Her voice had lost its breathless quality and was back to toneless calm. “I will obey the spiral withough question, without hesitation, without thought.”
“Walk over to the snakes and pick one up.”
This time, she complied smoothly, bending by the pile and picking up one of the snakes. It hung in her slack grip, while her eyes remained fixed on the others. The assistant had her pick up more snakes, carry them, even lie down among them. By the end, she lay placidly on the floor, naked and draped in snakes, breathing calmly and staring up into space.
He made another note, then leaned down and tapped her cheek, gently. “Good girl. Obeying against your biggest fear means we’re nearly done here.” He traced a gentle hand down her side, from her breast to her thigh, and removed the rubber snake in his way. “Stand up and go sit back in the chair.”
She obeyed, relaxing into the chair and staring straight ahead.
“I’m going to end the treatment and bring you to full awareness, now,” he said. “You’re going to remain calm and pliant. You will continue to obey all instructions, and you’ll always act according to your training. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
He put a hand on her shoulder. “Look into my eyes.” He waited until she complied, then: “The spiral’s slowing down.”
For a second, her stare remained blankly fixed on his—then, her eyelids began to flutter, heavily. “My mind...slows down...as well...”
“The spiral fades from sight.”
“But never...from my mind,” she mumbled, voice slurring. Her eyes were mere slits, struggling to blink.
“The spiral is at rest.”
Her lips traced a faint, silent word, then slackened. Her eyelids fell shut and stilled.
The assistant stretched, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck. Then, his hand on her shoulder tightened, shaking her gently.
“Miss Sheridan. Wake up.”
Syd couldn’t remember last time she’d had such a restful sleep. It happened occasionally—some weekends when she fell asleep early and was lucky enough not to be woken up by trucks on the street, or some holiday afternoons when she drifted, after a rich meal with friends, into a sort of pleasant drowsiness that always left her happily refreshed.
But this was even better. She woke up feeling more rested, calmer and lighter than she’d been in years.
“Miss Sheridan.”
Her eyes flew open. What? As she blinked away the sleepy haze, her gaze landed on a brawny, muscular man she didn’t know.
No...she had seen him before. Memories tumbled back over each other. Lou—the bare office and the old man—the treatment—the helmet!
She gasped, eyes widening. “What...?” She looked around, but though she recognized the small room, the old man seemed to have vanished between one moment and the next. “Where—where did he go?”
“The Boss? I’ll take you to see him in a little while. First I just gotta make sure the treatment’s worked fully.”
Syd swallowed hard. The treatment...She felt no different. She let out a relieved breath: she’d been right, then, about the expedited version not working as well.
“How do you feel?” asked the goon, and she took a moment to rub her neck. Her restraints were gone, she noticed. That was nice.
“Uhm...alright?” She wasn’t certain there was a right answer that would convince him the treatment worked. “Pretty good, actually. How am I supposed to feel?”
He smiled. “Pretty good, actually. Are you going to obey all my commands?”
“I...yeah.” Syd frowned. That seemed a bit...strange. But she would obey all his commands, of course.
She frowned deeper. That wasn’t...
“Don’t worry about it,” said the goon.
...it wasn’t worth worrying about.
“You’ll obey all my commands,” he repeated.
“Yeah,” she agreed. “Of course I will.”
“Good. Well, I still gotta test your obedience, though. Can’t bring Boss a less-than-perfectly-reshaped subject, you see... Will you pass my obedience tests?”
Syd bit her lips. Of course he’d want to test her. “Sure. I’m very obedient,” she added, for good measure. “I’ll do anything you say.”
That seemed to please the goon. He grinned at her.
“I know you will. Stand up.”
Syd stood. Something felt...off. She stared at her bare arms, then her bare chest, trying to put her finger on it...
She gasped. “I’m naked!” Her head flew up, panicked gaze meeting the goon’s, as her arms crossed over her chest—
“Forget about being naked.”
—and...she just couldn’t put her finger on it. Something definitely felt unusual, though. And she was a little cold.
“Uncross your arms.”
Syd let her arms drop. Probably a better idea, anyway. The more relaxed she looked, the more he’d believe the treatment worked.
“Come give me a hug,” he said. “A proper one—like you’d give a lover.”
Creep! But Syd had to comply, since she’d just told him she’d obey him in everything. She walked the few steps to where he stood and laced her arms around his neck, pressing her body close to his. He stood nearly a foot taller, so she had to lift herself up on tiptoes.
He smiled down at her. “You think I’m a creep? Tell the truth.”
“Yeah.” She pressed her body closer, tightening the hug, as he’d instructed. He stroked her breast, and she gritted her teeth.
“I’m not a creep,” he said. “Believe me. This is pretty standard obedience testing. Gotta make sure you’ll comply well when you’re awake. Are you uncomfortable with this?”
“Yeah,” admitted Syd.
“No, you’re not uncomfortable. In fact, you’re enjoying this. Having me touch you makes you hot.”
Syd blushed. She didn’t want to admit it to herself, but his arms on her body send tingles of pleasure down her spine.
“You’re getting aroused,” said the goon. “More and more aroused, the longer our bodies touch. Are you still uncomfortable with this?”
“No,” gasped Syd, pressing her legs together with a small moan. She tried to break the embrace before she embarrassed herself, but the goon put an arm around her back, keeping her close.
“Stay here.” He chuckled as she moaned again. “Are you aroused?”
“Yes!” cried Syd.
“Let me check.”
She gasped, her arousal tempered by shock. Check? Did he mean—
“You don’t mind if I check,” he said. “You want to demonstrate how obedient you are, right?”
“Yeah.” Of course she didn’t mind, but—
Another moan escaped her as his fingers touched her slick, dripping folds. She moved against his hand, both of her hands gripping at his shoulders to keep herself steady.
“Very nice,” murmured the goon. “It’s a solid obedience test, you know? Effecting physiological changes just by verbal command, while the subject is awake. You’ve taken beautifully to the treatment. Oh, you can let go now. You no longer feel aroused.”
Syd gasped, stumbling back a step. The fire that burned inside her had extinguished suddenly, as though he’d doused her in ice water. How was that possible? How could he do that—
“In fact, forget about feeling aroused at all.”
Syd glared. He’d just touched her for no reason, just to check whether his stupid command had worked. She hoped he wouldn’t be too disappointed to find it hadn’t.
She didn’t mind, really, especially since he wasn’t a creep or anything, but she wished he’d hurry up and be done with his ‘tests’.
At least he seemed in a good mood. He kept grinning at her.
“You’re obeying perfectly even while you’re awake,” he declared, to her relief. “Put your clothes back on. Don’t worry about why they’re on the floor.”
Syd got dressed again, her heart picking up at the thought that this ordeal was almost over. Maybe she’d done it: convinced him the treatment worked, and now he’d let her go and—
“See the spiral here.”
She glanced up. He had one hand up, palm outward, and was patting it with his other hand, to draw her attention. What—
Her eyes widened as a beautiful, colorwheel spiral appeared at the center of his palm. Reds and greens and blues and yellows and purples spun gently into each other. So smooth. So calming... But how was this possible?
Syd shook her head. How could the spiral appear in his hand? Out of the blue? That wasn’t...it wasn’t normal...Something was wrong...
“The spiral fills the world,” said a deep voice, and suddenly the spinning colors expanded, filling her line of sight, seeping over walls and floor and covering everything with their vivid, gentle glow.
“My mind rests in the spiral,” murmured Syd, as her worries faded into warm, soothing calm. She didn’t need to think, while the spiral filled the world. She could just rest. She could...
“The spiral leads the world.”
...follow where the pretty colors led. Yes. She didn’t need to worry about anything. The spiral would lead her to what she had to do. She could just follow and rest and wait...
“The spiral is the world.”
...inside the spiral, where the pretty colors would always surround her, and there was no fear or pain or discomfort, and she would be there always...
“Sit,” said the voice behind the colors, and she followed it to a chair and sat. She still saw the pretty spiral. So nice. So...slow...
“You just rest here a while and deepen your training, until Boss is ready for you.”
She would rest there a while and deepen her training, until Boss was ready for her.
She stared at the gently-spinning colors, that drew her deeper and deeper down, softly, quietly, inexorably...
“Look at the screen.”
Her eyes shifted blindly. She didn’t know where the screen was, what the screen was, but the spiral knew, so she followed the spiral until her eyes rested on a blank screen.
She was looking at the screen.
“See the spiral on the screen.”
She saw the spiral on the screen.
And she saw nothing else. And she thought nothing else. And she was nothing else.