The Ghost In The Machine
The
steel doors opened and No.2 walked through into the Control Room, and stood
looking down from the mezzanine level.
“How’s Number 4?”
The Supervisor-No.22 looked up at
No.2 “He’s asleep” she said.
“Really!” No.2 said descending the
steel staircase.
“Although his sleep is light.”
“Well we’ll have to deepen it for him
that’s all, pulastor.”
In 4 Private the ceiling light above
the bed began to pulsate as it descended in order to cover the face of the
slumbering No.4.
“Now, send a medic and two orderlies
and have Number 4 taken to the hospital.”
“Yes Number 2.”
A Mini-Moke towing a Red Cross
trailer pulled up at the back of 4 Private. The lock was released and the door
opened. The medic went in first, followed by orderlies, one carrying a
stretcher, the other a blanket. The medic checked the cup on the bedside table,
then the man slumbering in the bed. When all was to his satisfaction he
indicated to the two orderlies to put the patient on the stretcher and carry
him out to the ambulance.
In the laboratory No.2 and a doctor, No.23,
a woman in her late fifties, along with her medical team were waiting an
arrival.
“How long professor?”
The professor checked the clock on the
wall “Not much longer, they’ll be here in a few minutes.”
“No, I meant how long will the
operation take?”
“Oh I see what you mean. Oh I should
think one, perhaps two hours; it’s a complicated operation as you know.”
No.2 looked at his wrist watch “It’s
a little after
The Professor protested “That’s not
long enough!”
“Protest as much as you wish, it’s
all the time afforded to me. Just get this right Professor.”
The pair of white doors opened and
No.4 was wheeled into the theatre on an operating table, and the doctor and his
surgical team began to get to work on the subject.
No.13 was in the bathroom shaving when a
voice from the kitchen asked “What do you want for breakfast darling?”
He held the razor from his face for a
moment “Two poached eggs on toast” and carried on with his shave.
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No.13 a tall man in his early forties, blond
with blue eyes looked at himself in the mirror his hands poised as the moment
had come, the moment of applying aftershave and for that stinging sensation. He
replaced the top on the bottle of aftershave and looked at himself in the
mirror. Not bad he thought for a man of forty-three, and yet there was something….something
at the back of his mind that puzzled him. Shrugging his shoulders he picked up
his dressing gown and put it on.
In the kitchen his wife No.13b, Vanessa,
had put out the breakfast things, two slices of toast in the toaster, water in
a pan was simmering, cracking two eggs into a saucer she tipped each one in
turn into the pan they were allowed to cook for a couple of minutes then left
the eggs in the pan, finally left to drain on a piece of kitchen towel. And for
herself a bowl of cornflakes and orange juice.
“Good morning darling” he said planting a
kiss on her cheek.
“Good morning darling” she said
returning his kiss “how did you sleep, eggs won’t be a moment.”
“I closed my eyes and simply dropped
off, but that’s as good as it got. I dreamed someone had got under my skin,
that when I peeled off
my
face I was someone else.”
A look of worry crossed Vanessa’s
face, but just for a moment as she poured out two cups of tea “It’s their fault;
its horrid we should never have been brought to this place!”
He added milk and sugar and sat
stirring his tea allowing his mind to drift “If it had been any other day I
might have been away from my desk.”
Vanessa served up the poached eggs on
toast “It wasn’t your fault, the file landed on your desk by mistake that’s
all.”
“A file on the village, and I only glanced
at it.”
“But it was enough” she said.
“Yes. But that’s no reason to have
dragged you along as well.”
“I’m pleased they did. It would be
worse to be back there without you, than here with you. Do you think they will
leave us alone now?”
“They have tried most things, even to
the point of using you against
me.
That doctor is a complete………”
There was a sudden pain in his head,
he saw himself lying on an operating table, a woman in a surgical robe wearing
a mask stood over him, there was a scalpel in her hand……. That was when he
attacked his wife who had stood over him with a butter knife in her hand.
“What caused that do you think?” asked the
Supervisor.
No.2 stood looking up at the screen
and shook his head as No.13 took his hands from around his wife’s throat, the
butter knife having slipped from her hand. Vanessa staggered back rubbing her
throat and glaring at her husband as he dropped back in the chair.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know…….” Claude
pulled himself together.
“You’ve never hurt me before.”
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“No, I haven’t, I was in an operating theatre, there was a doctor or someone standing over me, it was you!”
“Me! I can assure you I’ve never
been………it must have been that doctor Number 23. Some doctor she’d drive anyone
to the grave. It’s this place, can’t we get away?”
“Some chance, we’ve told them
everything we know.”
“So what now?”
“I suppose we live out the rest of
our lives in the peaceful atmosphere of… of the village!”
No.2 crossed the floor to the steel
staircase “Keep a close watch on our friend, and let me know if there is
another sudden attack as that.”
“Yes Number 2.”
Standing on the mezzanine level, the
pair of steel doors slid open, No.2 took one final look at the wall screen to
see domestic bliss had apparently returned to ‘13 Private.’
Later that day with the sun shining and the
cottage becoming somewhat claustrophobic, Claude and Vanessa decided to get out
for a stroll and some fresh air. She had decided to wear a scarf about her neck
so as to obscure the bruising, and so doing avoided any embarrassing questions,
although she was aware that the little scene in the kitchen that morning would
have been witnessed, by the Observers, they do see and hear everything
apparently.
The walk had taken them through the village,
along the quayside and out along the cliffs. It was really the most perfect
day, people enjoying themselves on the beach, the dark terrors of the village
like spilled ice cream melting away in the sunshine. Further on, a couple of
people were messing about in the rock pools as a section of cliff descended to
the beach. Beyond the lighthouse was the cove, a few people were enjoying what
little privacy the cove afforded them, as they relaxed sunbathing. Then No.13
looked a little further out and saw the water. He didn’t know what it was, but
suddenly he staggered back from the edge of the cliff holding his head.
“What is it darling?” his wife said going
to his aid.
“I….I don’t know. I was looking at
the water and there was a man a man dragging a hollowed out tree trunk across
the beach. He paddled out to sea, then the Guardian came and………”
“I didn’t see such a man!”
“You must have done.”
“No darling there was no-one. Look
there’s no sign of anyone in the water let alone the Guardian.”
“He stepped towards the edge of the
cliff. There was no-one in the water, and no tell-tale tracks in the sand other
than those of the few people sunbathing” he didn’t understand. Was he starting
to see things, or were they some kind of flashback.
“I think we had better go back now,
this place is having a bad effect on you, perhaps you should see a doctor” his
wife told him.
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He glared at the woman on his arm “No” he
said sternly “no more doctors.”
“Very well darling, as you wish.”
In his office No.2 sat in his chair reading
No.13b’s report, lifting his eyes from the single page he looked at the woman
sat on the other side of the desk.
“Where does he think you are now?”
“I said I had to go to the General
Store for a loaf of bread.”
“He attacked you.”
“Yes sir, but I’m sure it was brought
on by some memory recall. One moment he was fine, the next he was at my
throat.”
“I see. And then there was the
incident on the cliffs.”
“I cannot explain that. He seemed to
be seeing something I could not.”
“That was Number 62 who hollowed out
a tree trunk and used it in an escape attempt a month or so back.”
“So what he saw was a memory.”
“Yes” No.2 said picking up the
receiver of the grey telephone “hospital, Professor how sure are you of the
conditioning of our friend?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because he has been experiencing
memories!”
“That’s impossible!”
“Clearly not Professor.”
“Well the adjustment went according
to plan; we wiped his memory, and gave him a new one according to his new
situation. Of course there is no accounting for the ghost in the machine
syndrome.”
“Ghost in the machine, please explain.”
“Even though we wiped his memory of
all previous experiences here in the village, there was bound to be something that
remained, a memory hidden away in the dark recesses of the mind.”
“You knew this could be the case when
we started?”
“I thought it possible, but unlikely.
Do you want No.13 brought back in?” the Professor asked.
No.2 thought for a moment “No, I have
someone close to 13, should any further anomalies occur she will report directly
to me. We’ll reappraise the situation should it be necessary.”
No.2 replaced the receiver on the
phone “You can go, don’t forget your loaf of bread.”
“Haven’t you changed those spark plugs
yet?” asked the foreman.
No.13, who had his head under the
bonnet of a Mini-Moke, was replacing the carburettor.
“I said haven’t you…….”
“Of course I have” 13 said emerging
from beneath the bonnet and wiping his hands on an oily rag “now I’ve just
replaced the carburettor, and checked the oil as
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well as the brake fluid.”
“All right clever dick, now you can
change the off-side rear tyre of that one” said the foreman “when you’ve done
that get yourself off to the slipway, one of the Jet boats has developed engine
problems.”
13 dropped the oil rag and closed the
bonnet of the Mini-Moke “I always think it’s good to be kept busy, it helps
pass the time!”
He changed the tyre on the other
Mini-Moke and both vehicles were soon back in service. Then it was the long
slow drive to the slipway on a John Deer garden tractor, not only that but
someone had had a sudden brainstorm and added a candy striped canopy to the
tractor, which was set up on a tall framework which made the canopy effectively
useless as a device to protect against the elements! The tractor towed a small
trailer a sign displayed the word ‘MECHANICS.’ As for the ride, it would have
been quicker had he walked!
By the time he arrived at the slipway
another mechanic was already there. Climbing off the tractor he opened up the
trailer and taking out his tool box walked along the slipway to where the
mechanic was already working on the engine.
“You took your time!” No.245 said
wiping his hands on an oil rag.
“I didn’t think it was an emergency,
so I took the scenic route” No.13 told him.
“Yes very funny! I don’t know why you
bothered driving that thing here.”
“It’s better than walking!”
“Only just!”
“What’s wrong with this thing then?”
13 asked climbing into the boat.
“It just won’t start for some
reason.”
“Plenty of fuel in the tank I suppose.”
“You know, I would never have thought
of that!”
In the Control Room the Supervisor and No.2
stood watching the wall screen as the two mechanics worked on the jet boat’s
engine.
“Well that all looks to be going
pretty well” No.2 said with confidence.
“So far so good” said the Supervisor
“We’ll see how he gets on once the engine is repaired.”
“You mean when he puts out into the
estuary in the boat.”
“Yes, if No.13 is playing a game with
us because of a piece of the ghost is still in the machine, he might not come
back!”
They continued to watch the screen as
the two mechanics stood looking at the engine.
“Right, better fire her up” said 245.
No.13 leaned over and turned the
ignition, the engine coughed, spluttered and died. He tried again with the same
result, but a third time after a cough and two splutters the engine fired into
life. With a thumbs up from 245 they replaced and bolted the engine cowling
back into position.
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“Right, you had better take her out.”
“Me?” said 13.
“Yes you, I’m on my way back to the
workshop. Enjoy yourself” 245 said stepping onto the slipway and casting the
boat off.
No.13 got into the seat and took the
wheel in his hands, he throttled the engine and the jet boat moved away from
the slipway and out into the estuary.
“Now we shall see” said No.2 watching
the action on the wall screen.
The jet boat was skimming across the
waves in mid estuary, 10, 12, 14 knots. No.13 could see the mouth of the
estuary in the distance, he was about to slow the boat and turn back when
something came at him. It took only a couple of minutes for the Guardian to
draw alongside the speedboat. No.13 pulled hard to port on the wheel crashing
the boat onto the white fibreglass dome of the Guardian.
“What’s he doing?” No.2 asked looking at
the wall screen “why is the boat veering away like that?”
“He appears to be taking evasive
action if you ask me!” said the Supervisor.
“Why, there’s nothing there!”
This sent the droid off course
momentarily, but regained its position alongside, its blue light flashing more
intently and brighter. No.13 turned the wheel hard to starboard leaving the
Guardian in its wake.
“Now what’s he doing?” said a puzzled
No.2.
“I really couldn’t say sir.”
13 turned the boat again to meet the thing
head on……crash! The bow of the speedboat had punctured a hole in the fibreglass
dome, rupturing one of the floatation tanks in the process, both of which were
taking on water fast. No.13 leapt overboard and began to swim away; foundering
in the water he turned to see boat and Guardian sink below the waves.
“He’s stopped the boat, and now he’s
jumped into the water. What did he do that for?”
“Get the helicopter pilot to retrieve No.13
from the water!”
“Yes Number 2.”
The helicopter landed on the water, and two
guardians helped the floundering No.13 out of the water and into the
helicopter. Taking off the pilot flew the helicopter over the village and landed
in a pasture next to the hospital. Two male orderlies were waiting to help
No.13 to the hospital, and was put into an interrogation room which was void of
table or chair forcing the subject to remain standing. 13 sat on the floor.
“Now 13, what the devil do you think
you were playing at?” asked a disembodied voice.
No.13 looked about the room for a
black speaker, there wasn’t one.
“You
saw what happened, or at least your Observers would have seen.”
“We saw you driving the jet boat
erratically, had you simply lost control?”
“No.”
“What were you doing then?”
“It was the droid’s fault!”
“Droid?” the voice asked “what
droid?”
“That mechanical Rover thing, I was
trying to escape and you sent it after me. I rammed it and the thing sank. Ask
your Observers they will have seen, I saw it coming at me, I rammed it and the
thing sank. They must have seen it, they must have.”
“Is he having a nervous breakdown?
No.14 asked.
No.2 and 14 looked at each other, then at
the Professor who was making notes.
“Well Professor, is he?”
“Is he what?”
“Having a nervous breakdown?” 2
asked.
“That is impossible.”
“Then how do you explain it?”
The Professor put his pencil in the
breast pocket of his white coat “I shall have to conduct a series of tests.”
“Tests!” barked No.2 “tests, any
layman can tell what’s gone wrong it’s the re-programming its left memories.”
“That’s not possible” said the
Professor defiantly.
“He remembers, he’s just been living
a memory of his former life that happened months ago!”
“I shall have to conduct a series of
tests” the Professor repeated.
“Then do so, but find a way to
retrieve the situation, otherwise you will have failed this project!”
“I could reverse the process!”
“What and have Number 13 suddenly
strip the engine down of one of the taxi’s when it’s standing on the rank when
he suddenly gets the urge, Number 14.”
“Yes sir.”
“Give Number 13 a free ride home.”
“You are sending him home?”
“Yes, my decision, it’s not his
fault” No.2 said.
“But he needs to be here, he needs to
be under my supervision” argued the Professor.
“Perhaps he just needs to go home and
be with his wife.”
“A wife he attacked!”
“Yes, because he is remembering!”
“Remembering?”
“Yes you in a white coat, the
operation, the conditioning, it’s all coming back to him!”
“Impossible, we wiped his memory and
gave him a new life.”
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“Go back to your notes professor, go over the process again, and find a way to eradicate that ghost in the machine!”
Outside the hospital No.14 put No.13 in a
taxi and he was driven home. His wife was in the kitchen preparing his
favourite dish when she heard the door to the cottage open. 13 went through
into the lounge and sat down, his wife 13b, joined him and sat next to him on
the sofa.
“Where have you been darling?”
“You weren’t at the hospital!”
“Hospital, what were you doing at the
hospital?”
“They didn’t tell you?”
“Have you had an accident, are you
hurt?”
“Accident yes, hurt no” he said, but
he was confused.
“Tell me darling.”
“I was testing one of the jet boats,
245 and I had been working on its engine. I took the boat out into the estuary;
there was this thing, Rover, a droid. It must have thought I was trying to
escape. I took evasive action, but it kept coming at me, eventually I steered
the boat straight for it, and sank it.
His wife sat there looking at him,
the realization washing over her that something was seriously wrong with him. A
nervous breakdown it seemed caused by some stress or strain. Perhaps the
hospital was the best place for him, if he was to go berserk again she might
not survive it. She decided to call No.2, but from a telephone kiosk!
“Yes my dear, I understand your natural
anxiety, but he needs to remain calm, at a time like this he needs to be
reminded of ordinary everyday things. He needs those who love him to be close”
No.2 said trying his best to sound reassuring.
“But I don’t love him!”
“You have been assigned to him
because you are one of our best agents. Surely you can feign your love, at
least show some affection towards him.”
“It’s not you who’s cooped up in a
cottage with it!”
“It will not be for much longer my
dear. I fear this experiment was doomed from the start.”
No.2 had put the phone down, leaving No.13b
left out in the cold. It was a slow walk back from the kiosk to ‘13 Private,’
and when she did finally returned home.
No.13 was in the bedroom, he had been lying
down, thinking, trying to give reason for the things he was remembering. He got
up and caught sight of himself in the dressing table mirror, he sat down on the
stool and gazed deeply into the mirror. He saw the day of his arrival in the
village the taxi ride, and meeting Number 2 for the first time;
“I can see you are about to ask me a
question” the man behind the desk said.
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“I have several questions, beginning with
why am I here?”
“I would have thought introductions
should come first. I am Number 2” he tapped the badge on the lapel of his
jacket with a finger.
“Well that doesn’t tell me much!”
“And you are our new Number 4.”
“Number what?”
“4.”
“I’m no number, my name is…….”
Then his first escape attempt. No.4 was way
ahead, and close to taking the speedboat out into the open sea, it has been all
too easy. And yet when he glanced over his shoulder, much to his surprise he
saw he was now being pursued. Not by another speedboat, but something round
something which appeared to skim over the water. He kept the speedboat on a
true course straight for the open sea, casting another glance over his shoulder
he saw a flashing blue light, and that it was gaining on him. Then came the
interrogation.
The doctor turned to the trolley and
selected another syringe filled with a dark red liquid “Now….what were you
doing in
“I was never in
“That is a lie, but I won’t hold it
against you because I like a challenge, there’s no fun in it if my subjects
talk too soon. But you will tell me laddie, in the end you’ll want to tell me”
A third injection as the needle entered the
Prisoner’s upper arm, the plunger depressed.
“It doesn’t hurt any more the Prisoner
said.”
“Doesn’t it laddie?”
“No” he said and his lips formed a
smile, and a happy look came over his face “I’m high.”
“Are you laddie?”
“I’m higher than you.”
“You don’t say.”
“I do say.”
“Then tell me about Klaussmann?”
“Who?”
“You heard the question. Did
Klaussman give you anything?”
“I don’t know any Klaussman.”
“
“I’ve never been there.”
“Where, where haven’t you been?”
“You’re a funny man, I like you.”
“Did Klaussmann give you the
formula?”
“Funfair.”
“Funfair, you went to the funfair,
Spreepark is that where you went?”
“Ferris wheels, roundabouts…..do you
like candy floss, I like candy floss.”
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“You
went the Spreepark funfair, Klaussmann passed something to you.”
The Prisoner struggled to suppress
old memories; he worked his wrists against the blood soaked leather restraints.
“Did Klaussmann give you a book?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“I’m not, you are. Do yourself a
favour, tell me what I want to know and this will stop.”
“You’re funny, I haven’t the faintest
idea what you’re talking about” the Prisoner laughed.
“Then I’m sorry for you laddie” the doctor
said the pain of a small scratch as the needle of the syringe was pushed into
his arm and the plunger pushed.
“About three minutes is usual” the
doctor said.
“Three minutes?” the Prisoner asked.
“Until the drug takes effect, what
shall we do in that time?”
“We could have a cup of tea.” The Prisoner
said sarcastically.
“Good
people of our community.”
“Hoorah” the people shouted.
“It has to be said that there has
been a lack of opposition in the matter of free elections. This is not good for
you the people, and our community as a whole. It suggests a lack of will in the
people, an acceptance of things as they are, and a reluctance to progress.”
“Hoorah!”
“We have here a candidate whose
outlook on this community is one of militancy, and individualism.”
“Hoorah, hoorah.”
“Let us hope he will realize his duty
to this community, by taking up the challenge. It is my pleasure to present to
you a recent recruit, Number 4.”
“Hoorah!”
No.2 handed No.4 the megaphone, and
he stood there looking down on the gathered crowd, who looked up to him
expectantly.
“What do I say?”
“Say what you like” No.2 told him
pinning a black rosette to the lapel of his blazer, on the white centre disc
the black number 4.
No.4 raised the megaphone to his
mouth and the people stood waiting with baited breath to hear the candidate’s
opening speech.
“I don’t know what you and Number 2
and his administration expect of me, but I’m not being railroaded into standing
against him in this local election” he announced lowering the megaphone.
The crowd stood silent, and accusing.
No.2 leaned over towards his opponent
“That’s not the sort of thing these good people want to hear. Give then
something they can cheer, tell them what you stand for.”
It was a square room, carpet on the floor, a grey filing cabinet in a corner, a couple of paintings decorated the walls. On the far wall were
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two
word maps, the one to the right had small illuminating parts of the world. And
there was a desk, a large oak desk, with a bad-headed man sat in a chair behind
it. The man had failed to notice No.4 enter the room, or if he had he made no
reaction. He simply sat there filling in The Daily Telegraph crossword. It must
have been just after 3 in the afternoon, because there was no tea plate
accompanying the cup and saucer. No.4 slowly approached the desk.
“Anyone at home?” he asked.
The bald-headed man looked up through
his spectacles but said nothing.
“Who are you then?”
The man behind the desk remained
silent.
“Are you the chief inquisitor?”
The man simply sat there toying with
his ballpoint pen.
“I expect you want me to talk, what
do you want me to say?”
The man remained silent.
No.4 leaned over the desk
“What…do…you…want…me…to…say?”
The man said nothing, showed no
reaction, wouldn’t be drawn into speaking.
“What’s this, the silent treatment”
No.4 looked about the room “don’t I even get a chair to sit on? You know I’m
not at all sure what you are, perhaps you’re no more than a pen pushing
bureaucrat.”
“He is” said a woman’s voice “but I’m
not.”
A tall woman wearing a white coat had
entered the room, in her right hand a syringe.
“Now just relax, this won’t hurt, well
not immediately anyway” the doctor said slowly approaching his patient.
“What have you there?”
“The first dose of Scopolamine” the
doctor said.
About a mile and a half back along the
track there appeared a small gap in the hedgerow. Stopping the Jeep No.4 clambered
out and stepped off the trail and through the gap in the hedge. Ahead of him
was an open field but with hedges and ditches on all sides, except in the far
corner there was a closed wooden gate. He climbed back into the jeep and
started out across the field. The ground was good to soft and easy going for
the jeep. But even at this distance No.4 was still on his guard, he was not far
enough away from the village to drop his guard just yet. There had been no sign
of anyone, no sign of occupation, farm, or cottage. Then there it was! The long
arm of the village reached even this far, as the white amorphous sphere crossed
the field towards the jeep. No.4 kept the jeep heading straight towards the gate which he fully intended crashing
through and carrying on his way. He calculated that as long as he remained
inside the jeep he was safe from that membranic thing! He was surprised that it
could maintain the same speed as the jeep, but was unable to get aboard the
moving vehicle.
“Now Number 4, are you coming quietly, or do we have to use force?" said one of
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the security guards.
No.4 was quick to weigh up the
situation, and remembered everything……
The cottage door opened and No.13b
returned home.
“Where have you been?” he asked
“I……I went for a walk, I needed some
air” she told him.
“Really, aren’t you supposed to be
here looking after me?”
“Y…..yes.”
“Why are you looking so afraid?”
“I’m not afraid, shall I make some coffee?”
“No. My memory has returned, I remember
everything….I was never married so who the hell are you!”
No.58 made for the door, at first he
made a move to stop her, but instead he let her go.
In the Control Room the Supervisor picked
up the receiver of the yellow telephone and called No.2.
“It’s reported that Number 13b has run out
of the cottage.”
“Really,”
“Number 4 has also just left the
cottage, he’s crossing the square, an ambulance has just pulled up in the road”
reported the Supervisor still watching the wall screen.
“Ah Number 4, just in time for your check
up” said the medical orderly.
“A check up, I’ve never had a check
up before.”
“Well it’s high time you did” said
the orderly.
“Another time perhaps” said No.4 about
to go on his way.
Then three security guards in grey
overall, dark glasses, white helmets stepped out of the white Mini-Moke, each
had a white truncheon. They attacked No.4 who fought the three men off until
one clubbed him over the head, there was a sudden clanking sound, and he fell
to the ground. No.4’s unconscious body was placed in the Red Cross trailer and
driven off to the hospital.
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