I was going crazy.
As surely as madness took Nemo, I felt myself slipping into a self-induced psychosis. I was no psychoanalyst, but I knew that some of the screws up in the old noggin were becoming loose. And I was scared.
Nothing in life is worse than finding yourself in a situation that you can do nothing about. I was trapped - as trapped as any mouse in any cage. Oh, I could move about within the confines of the underground compound. They left me pretty free reign to do anything I wanted and go anywhere I wished. But there were always cameras following me, always guards just around the corner, always something to remind me that I was an honored guest, but one with very limited freedoms.
I had taken to exercise, which at first seemed a good release of my pent-up energy, but later became as mundane and ritualistic as everything else here. Everything. Even my relationship with Janice, which was once so fulfilling, so pure, had become tainted by the intrusion of these men and their agenda. I was under no delusion that these men had their goals and that they were manipulating my sweet wife into performing all kinds of acts as a figurehead. I wished desperately there was some way I could waken her out of this hypnosis...
The only bright spot was my children. What scared me most, though, is what I knew they were teaching to his daughter. I'd seen how they treated her with a kind of reverence and awe. People fawning over anyone at such a tender age could have a profound and lasting impact. Just look at Janice...
My workouts had begun to extend for hours. There simply wasn't much else for me to do. I took long walks down corridors that seemed endless. Most of the doors leading off these corridors led to fairly ordinary places - offices, conference rooms, and the like. But a few I had come to know were more interesting. There was the control room, where there was a constant crew of men monitoring news reports. They were also monitoring cell communications of world leaders. From this room, they could access the microphone of any cell phone in the world and eavesdrop on the conversation happening anytime, anywhere. That part really creeped me out. It made me never want to use my cell phone ever again.
In another room was a massive laboratory. I'm not sure why they let me in this lab, except that what was going on in there seemed either too technical for me to understand - I'd barely passed my chemistry classes - or was relatively public knowledge. One thing that interested me was the solvent. If it was as powerful as they claimed, how were they able to even store it in anything?
"It was a problem we'd worked for a long time to figure out," the friendly technician responded. His name was Alex, and while no one was particularly rude, Alex would talk to me where the others wouldn't. I had tried asking him about his personal life - where he was from and all that - but he was pretty tight-lipped about that. He was very open, however, about his work. He seemed eager to share information about what he was doing at the lab.
"We found that with it's affinity for organic compounds and quartz, most plastics and even glass were not able to contain the particular mixture. Stainless steel is one of the easiest ways to contain it - it does not seem to dissolve alloyed metals easily. Applying it also brought challenges since spray bottles typically use rubber gaskets and plastic nozzles. There is only one type of plastic polymer that we've found that will work, so we've had to manufacture our own injection molds for plastic bottles and spray aerosols."
"Sounds pretty ticklish," I said, mostly to keep the conversation going.
"It is. We can only manufacture a small amount at a time, basically enough to fill that container over there," he said, indicating a large stainless steel cylinder in the corner of the room. There was a stainless steel fitting near the bottom ridge and a small tap. "When we are doing a dissolution project we access it there. There is a log for how much is removed so that when it gets low we can make up another batch."
"Where do you get the chemcials?" I asked.
Suddenly he turned wary. "That's not something you need to worry about," he said, his voice cold, his eyes distant.
I backpedaled quickly. "I just meant that in this remote location, and with all this secrecy, it's not like FedEx can show up and deliver a hundred gallons of whatever it is..."
His face stayed hard, but he said, "That's true. There are some difficulties and technical problems related to our remoteness. But suffice it to say that we can easily and quickly get almost anything we need..."
The way he left that last phrase hanging in the air reminded me that for all his supposed friendliness, he was part of the team. I knew how calculating and manipulative the team could be and I was anxious to not find out how far Alex could be pushed. I thanked him for his time and moved off.
The nagging thought that kept recurring to me, however, was the apparent dissatisfaction that he'd seemed to display. Perhaps there was some dissension in the ranks. Perhaps I could exploit that to my advantage...
I headed off to the gym, my mind in overdrive.
As surely as madness took Nemo, I felt myself slipping into a self-induced psychosis. I was no psychoanalyst, but I knew that some of the screws up in the old noggin were becoming loose. And I was scared.
Nothing in life is worse than finding yourself in a situation that you can do nothing about. I was trapped - as trapped as any mouse in any cage. Oh, I could move about within the confines of the underground compound. They left me pretty free reign to do anything I wanted and go anywhere I wished. But there were always cameras following me, always guards just around the corner, always something to remind me that I was an honored guest, but one with very limited freedoms.
I had taken to exercise, which at first seemed a good release of my pent-up energy, but later became as mundane and ritualistic as everything else here. Everything. Even my relationship with Janice, which was once so fulfilling, so pure, had become tainted by the intrusion of these men and their agenda. I was under no delusion that these men had their goals and that they were manipulating my sweet wife into performing all kinds of acts as a figurehead. I wished desperately there was some way I could waken her out of this hypnosis...
The only bright spot was my children. What scared me most, though, is what I knew they were teaching to his daughter. I'd seen how they treated her with a kind of reverence and awe. People fawning over anyone at such a tender age could have a profound and lasting impact. Just look at Janice...
My workouts had begun to extend for hours. There simply wasn't much else for me to do. I took long walks down corridors that seemed endless. Most of the doors leading off these corridors led to fairly ordinary places - offices, conference rooms, and the like. But a few I had come to know were more interesting. There was the control room, where there was a constant crew of men monitoring news reports. They were also monitoring cell communications of world leaders. From this room, they could access the microphone of any cell phone in the world and eavesdrop on the conversation happening anytime, anywhere. That part really creeped me out. It made me never want to use my cell phone ever again.
In another room was a massive laboratory. I'm not sure why they let me in this lab, except that what was going on in there seemed either too technical for me to understand - I'd barely passed my chemistry classes - or was relatively public knowledge. One thing that interested me was the solvent. If it was as powerful as they claimed, how were they able to even store it in anything?
"It was a problem we'd worked for a long time to figure out," the friendly technician responded. His name was Alex, and while no one was particularly rude, Alex would talk to me where the others wouldn't. I had tried asking him about his personal life - where he was from and all that - but he was pretty tight-lipped about that. He was very open, however, about his work. He seemed eager to share information about what he was doing at the lab.
"We found that with it's affinity for organic compounds and quartz, most plastics and even glass were not able to contain the particular mixture. Stainless steel is one of the easiest ways to contain it - it does not seem to dissolve alloyed metals easily. Applying it also brought challenges since spray bottles typically use rubber gaskets and plastic nozzles. There is only one type of plastic polymer that we've found that will work, so we've had to manufacture our own injection molds for plastic bottles and spray aerosols."
"Sounds pretty ticklish," I said, mostly to keep the conversation going.
"It is. We can only manufacture a small amount at a time, basically enough to fill that container over there," he said, indicating a large stainless steel cylinder in the corner of the room. There was a stainless steel fitting near the bottom ridge and a small tap. "When we are doing a dissolution project we access it there. There is a log for how much is removed so that when it gets low we can make up another batch."
"Where do you get the chemcials?" I asked.
Suddenly he turned wary. "That's not something you need to worry about," he said, his voice cold, his eyes distant.
I backpedaled quickly. "I just meant that in this remote location, and with all this secrecy, it's not like FedEx can show up and deliver a hundred gallons of whatever it is..."
His face stayed hard, but he said, "That's true. There are some difficulties and technical problems related to our remoteness. But suffice it to say that we can easily and quickly get almost anything we need..."
The way he left that last phrase hanging in the air reminded me that for all his supposed friendliness, he was part of the team. I knew how calculating and manipulative the team could be and I was anxious to not find out how far Alex could be pushed. I thanked him for his time and moved off.
The nagging thought that kept recurring to me, however, was the apparent dissatisfaction that he'd seemed to display. Perhaps there was some dissension in the ranks. Perhaps I could exploit that to my advantage...
I headed off to the gym, my mind in overdrive.
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