Look Up - Part 2

TRANSLATION NOTE: In Hindi (and dozens of other Indian languages), "beta" is an endearing word for "child" (typically boy child, with "beti" being girl child)

Part 2

Dr. Taru was old, but Arfid had trouble placing her exact age. With the rich, it was always difficult. Anywhere between 70 and 120 was his guess. She was dark skinned, with jet black curly hair. Soft spoken, polite. With her chromium fingers, each colder than ice, she felt him over and caressed his fried ports. Finally, with a warm smile, she raised an injection.

Instinctively, Arfid backed up, raising an arm between him and the offending syringe. His face was twisted into distrust and disgust. Of course he didn’t trust her.

“Come, beta,” she said with her smile. “It won’t hurt. Oh you’re just like school children! It will just jog your memory, beta…” she explained, appealing to his good senses. Arfid stared at her kind eyes, then the syringe. The liquid was dark yellow.

“Look,” she huffed. “Either we can do this quietly, or I shall have to tell Madam that you’re not co-operating. And I’m afraid that Madam’s boss can be ever so nasty…” Arfid’s face, stubborn and hard, melted into defeat.

His resolve remained strong, but he knew that he had little choice.

As the needle pierced his neck, a memory came to him. He was sitting opposite the woman in the shirt. “This will erase you from… everything!” she said. “It will be like you don’t exist. Then, you can fuck off to The Plains after the gig’s done.”

Dr. Taru removed the syringe and the memory passed.

“There, there! All done. Sleep now, beta. I’ll come check on you tomorrow,” she spoke with her smile. She’d not stopped smiling since she’d entered. Good bedside manners? Arfid doubted it. “Do they feed you well here?” she asked. “The last one… oh they just gave him gruel for days… drove him mad it did…”

“Yes, they feed me well.” Arfid spoke with finality, gesturing at the empty plate on the bedside table. It had been a long time since he’d eaten real meat… he’d almost forgotten the taste.

Taru cast a wary eye at the table and plate, smiled again at Arfid, and left, leaving Arfid alone in his gilded cage. Silver moonlight tumbled in through the sealed window.

It had been some hours since Dr. Taru had come and gone, and he’d not had any more flashes of memory. He’d spent those hours rummaging around the room. In the bookshelves, he found nothing of note aside from books from the 21st century. On the writing desk, in its drawers, there was nothing but blank paper – fine and thick – and pens. He took apart some of the pens, fearing they were listening devices. They were just pens. In the bathroom, there was a lavish tub, and every toiletry he could need. Aside from that, his room was furnished with a TV, a console, an AltR headset, even a holoprojector.

A fine gilded gage, he thought to himself. Finally, he sat on the bed and gazed out of the window. New Bombay at night was lit up like one of those old Christmas trees. Blues and greens, reds and yellows, dotted the city and shone dimly through the night-time smog. The smog itself glowed silver, as the moonlight of a full moon bounced off it. Through it all, drones zipped, under it all cars and bikes ran.

With a heavy heart he could not explain, he turned to bed.

He slept dreamlessly and did not how long he had been asleep when he woke. At any rate, it was still dark out. There was a dull knock, knock, knock on the door. No, not dull… muted. As though someone was trying to be quiet.

“Hey, man… open the door!” It was a man’s voice. Raspy and rough. “Dude, Arfid, it’s T! T.H.! Open up, man, we don’t have long.”

Gingerly, Arfid walked to the door. He wanted a weapon; he knew how to use weapons. At least, his body did. There was nothing nearby. Save for the silver plate he’d eaten dinner off.

“I can hear you man… I got audial ‘plants, ‘member? Just open up,” T.H. whisper-shouted through the door.

Arfid opened the door a crack, but T.H. pushed against it. Against his better judgement, Arfid let go and allowed T.H. to spill inside. The first thing Arfid noticed was that the man’s legs were all chromium, and they clinked and thudded against the soft-wood floor.

“Hey man,” T.H. said without looking at him. As he rushed past Arfid, he saw a small memorycard sticking out of T.H.’s own ports. It had the same shape as the one stuck in Arfid. “Look, we don’t have much time-”

“Who the fuck are you?” Arfid locked the door shut behind him and turned on the invader. T.H. was wearing, aside from his legs, all black. On his head was a balaclava, on his hips was a pistol, on his chest was a plate carrier with extra mags. Through the balaclava, Arfid saw confused eyes staring back at him.

“Motherfucker, you really don’t remember!” T.H. exclaimed, forfeiting all attempts at stealth. “They really fucked you up, man.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” Arfid took a step forward, as menacing as he could, but T.H. didn’t flinch.

“No, no, stay right there, sunshine,” T.H. threatened, voice steel. His hand went to his pistol, and Arfid took no further steps. “See, the man I know as Arfid is my friend; well, my contractor. He’s done a lot of jobs for me. The man standing here, you, should be Arfid. But you’re not, not anymore. Not since SG scrambled your fucking brain.” T.H. raised his gun, and Arfid almost considered lunging for it but he was too far away.

“Count yourself lucky that I believe in ‘deep down, he’s still there’. But I have no qualms,” he said as he aimed. “I’m going to go look for the seeds. If you tell them about me…” the eyes behind the balaclava darted to the gun and he shrugged. “Get it?”

“They’ve probably bugged the room,” Arfid responded, unshaken.

“I know. They can’t hear this.”

“How-”

“Man, I’m not going to tell you how,” T.H. barked. “Now, I’m going to leave. When I find the seeds, I’ll come look for you. If they’ve not succeeded in turning you by then, I’ll bust you out.” With slow steps T.H. began to walk towards the door. Arfid, wisely, moved out of his way. “Tell me,” T.H. said as his empty hand reached for the door handle. “Did they sic a honeypot on you yet?”

Arfid hesitated, mouth agape. Before he could say anything, T.H. spoke. “That’s what I thought. Remember, if you talk, I’ll kill you both. I hope you come to your senses, Arfid. Enough people are dead.”

With that, he slipped out of the room, and the door clicked shut behind him.