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Thursday, 15 September 2022

The Prisoner - A New No.2 - Chapter 4

 

Chapter 4


A Change of Mind


    The light turquoise coloured Allouete helicopter cleared the hills and flew over the estuary on its approach to the Village, and made to land on the lawn by the sea wall. In an ambulance, a white mini-Moke towing a Red Cross trailer, two medical orderlies sat waiting. The helicopter slowed and landed on the triangular lawn by the sea wall, the orderlies waited with a stretcher as the rotor blades slowed and stopped. The pilot opened the Perspex cabin door; the body of an unconscious man was lifted out and placed on the stretcher and carried over to the ambulance, and placed in the Red Cross trailer. The ambulance was driven back up the slope and up the hill into the Village.
    A sign had just been arranged outside ‘9 Private’ close to the Bell Tower. The ambulance was driven into the cobbled square; the man was carried on the stretcher into ‘9 Private’ and put to bed. This action had been closely watched by the supervisor-No.28, a bald-headed man who picked up the yellow ‘L’ shaped telephone.
   In his office No.2 sat in the black global chair, he too had observed the arrival of the helicopter on the large wall screen. The ‘Grey ‘L’ shaped telephone began to bleep.
    “Number Two here.”
    “The prisoner has been placed in his cottage” the supervisor reported.
    “Yes I saw the helicopter arrive.”
   The pair of steel doors slid open and No.21 walked smartly down the ramp and approached the desk.

    “I thought you should know.”
    “Yes thank you” No.2 said looking up at his assistant.
    The file he held he handed to No.2 who having put down the telephone opened the black file and looked at the photograph of a man in his late thirties.
    “A new arrival” No.21 said.
    No.2 leaned forward and pressed a button on the control panel, pictured on the wall screen was a man lying on a bed, he began to stir, eventually he sat up and looked about him. To all intents and purposes he was home, and grateful for being so, it had been a difficult assignment to say the least. But how did he get here? The last he remembered was…….. No.2 and No.21 watched as the man rose from the bed running his fingers through his hair and crossing the room to the window. The view outside came as a shock, it was part of the accepted norm, where there should have been houses on the other 
side of the Chelsea mews were bushes, a lawn, a river, and beyond hills! He spun round as the telephone began to bleep. He crossed the room and picked up the receiver.

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    No.2 watched the man pictured on the wall screen “Good morning, I hope there have been no ill effects from the journey?”
    “What do you care……..I know your voice!” the man said.

    “I’d be surprised if you didn’t. Join me for breakfast, Number Two the Green Dome” and he hung up and put the phone down on his desk.
    “Do you want me to stay sir?”
    “No, I think it will be more effective if I meet him alone, if I need you I’ll call” 2 said watching the man take his first tentative steps out into the Village.
    No.21 took his leave, the steels doors opening to reveal the diminutive butler standing at the top of the ramp.
    “We have a visitor this morning breakfast for one” No.2 said watching the man walk round the base of the Bell Tower “a bowl of cornflakes, toast, marmalade, and coffee” he read from the file.
    The butler bowed, turned, the steel doors closing behind him.

    There was a gardener busy trimming a box hedge.
    “Where am I?” the man asked.
    The gardener stopped what he was doing and stood looking at the man in the grey suit “In the Village.”
    “The Village!”
    “Yes.”
    “Is there somewhere called the Green Dome?”
    “I’ll say there is. Through that gate, across the square, over the road, up the steps you can’t miss it” the gardener told him and stood watching the man go on his way.
    On the balcony of the Green Dome the man stood looking out at the view, how had he come to be here? Who brought him here and why? He turned and walked through one of the arches and faced a white door. To the right was a wrought iron bell pull, he pulled it and some where a bell tolled. The door opened and he stepped inside the foyer. A diminutive butler appeared, bowed and showed him through the pair of French doors, up a small ramp to a pair of large steel doors which opened at their approach. The man stood there looking into the purple walled, domed chamber, then walked slowly down the slope the pair of steel doors closing behind him. He approached the desk and looked at the man sat in the chair behind it.
    You, you of all people, I’d never have believed it!”
    “I’d hardly have given it credence myself, yet here I am” No.2 said.
    “You’ve gone over!”
    “They were looking for a good man…..”
    “It looks like they found him!”
    “I’m not the first……how is the Colonel?”
    “I’ve not forgotten you know!”
    “Neither have I.”

25


    The pair of steel doors opened and the butler pushed a breakfast trolley down the ramp. Approaching the desk he pressed a button on the control panel, a round panel in the floor slid away and a small round topped table appeared up through a hole, and upon which the butler set out the prisoner’s breakfast.
    “That will be all” No.2 said.
    The butler bowed and pushed his trolley up the ramp and out through the open steel doors.
    “The prisoner ate a hearty breakfast!”
    “A bowl of cornflakes and toast…hardly. So you see yourself as a prisoner?”
    “And you are the warder. Sits well with you does it?”
    “Circumstances alter cases.”
    “You’ve certainly done well for yourself!”
    “If you’re looking for a favour I’m fresh out.”
    “Not even for old time’s sake?”
    No.2 shook his head.
    “I’ll talk eventually, you know that.”
    “And until then?”
    “I’ll tell you nothing.”
    “So why the need to prolong things, why put yourself through such an ordeal, why not get it over and done with?”
    “And if I did would you let me go then?”
    “I might.”
    “Number One might have something to say about that.”
    “You leave Number One to me, it’s me you have to worry about. Don’t you want your breakfast?”
    The prisoner stood resolute “I have not forgotten what happened in Prague.”
    “You will no doubt be heartened to know that neither have I, it was unavoidable.”
    “Was it? You came out of it well enough, and Elsa?”
    “They let her go.”
    “After they tortured her for three days!”
    “Everyone talks on the third day.”
    “She didn’t, she didn’t but then she didn’t have to, but you did, and forty good agents went to the wall. No I have not forgotten.”
    “You knew?”
    “Perhaps you would be good enough to pour me some coffee” No.2 asked.
    The prisoner looked at the man sat in the chair and poured out a single cup of coffee.
    “Two sugars, no milk.”
    The prisoner approached the desk holding out a Crown Derby cup and saucer.
    “Won’t you join me?” No.2 asked taking the offered cup and saucer.

26


    The prisoner poured out a second cup of coffee from the silver 
coffee pot, black, no sugar, and stood watching No.2.

    “Be seeing you” No.2 said taking a sip of the hot coffee.
    The prisoner lifted his own cup to his lips and drank.
    It took a few moments to take effect, but there he lay upon the floor. The coffee spilt, the cup and saucer smashed. No.2 picked up the yellow ‘L’ shaped telephone.
    “He’s all yours doctor” was all he said.

    The Prisoner woke up strapped in a chair. A tall lean man in a white coat was attending to some instruments set out on a small medical trolley.
    The prisoner struggled against his leather restraints, the doctor turned to face the subject.
    “Ah how is it with you laddie?”
    The prisoner stopped struggling against his bonds “Where am I, in your private torture chamber?”
    “You’re in the hospital, you couldn’t be in a better place laddie.”
    “You’re bedside manner leaves much to be desired!”
    “It’s good to maintain a sense of humour at times like this.”

    “Is that what you prescribe doctor?
     The doctor turned back to the trolley and picked up a hypodermic syringe, then turning back to the subject rolled up the left sleeve of his shirt and administered the orangey brown coloured drug.

    “You’ll have to tell them you know.”
    “They won’t believe me if I did.”
    “I believed you.”
    “Yes but even you took some convincing.”
    “He sitteth between the cherubims, psalm ninety-nine.”
    “What are you doing?”
    “The isle’s may be glad thereof, psalm ninety-seven.”
    “Have you found religion?”
    “As the rivers in the south, psalm one hundred and twenty-six.”
    “Oh I get it, you’re trying to block me out, you won’t be able to keep that up for long!”
    “There once was an old man from Khartoum….”

    “And what did he do?”
    “I….mustn’t…..tell you.”
    “Why ever not, I like rhymes, anecdotes, that kind of thing.”
    “If I tell you it will all come flooding out.”
    “Well laddie you could do no better than unburden yourself” the doctor said ready with the first syringe.
    “What and make a prison for myself!”

    How many days had it been, perhaps a week, a month, it was difficult to tell, but they didn’t seem to want to know anything about him. He felt sure they knew everything already that they were simply going through the motions. He had been here before, but that was after he had “gone over,” and it had been easy for him to talk, to give up everything he knew. But they were very different days, days of ideology and belief in something worthwhile. And where had that got him, a medal yes, notoriety yes, money yes, women yes, and a small flat in Moscow. Strange how they have been able to replicate that living room of my flat, right down to the smallest detail. True they had gone to a great deal of trouble to make him feel at home, but really this room, this small cottage was nothing more than a cell in a small Italianate Village somewhere….somewhere.

 27


    No.9 found himself getting into a routine, and it was part of his routine to attend the regular brass band concert.
    “May I join you?”
    “I don’t see anyone stopping you” he said.
    “You’re settling in?” No.2 asked.
    “What do you care?”
    “I’m doing my best, but I’ve not been in the job for more than five minutes.”
    “You’ve taken to it like a duck to water if I may say.”
    “You may, you may indeed. I’m trying to make a better Village, I want people to be happy.”
    “Are you?”
    “Am I what?”
    “Happy?”
    “You haven’t attempted to escape yet.”
    “No.”
    “Why not?”
    “What and give you the pleasure of having me brought back. Besides I’m not like you, I can’t fly a helicopter, I can swim, but not so far, that’s rough water out there.”
    “You could head for the hills” No.2 suggested.
    “Would there be much point?”
    “So instead you settle in to our way of life here.”
    “Perhaps I’m putting you to sleep.”
    “Me perhaps, but not the Observers, they do see and hear everything you know.”
    “Including us sat here talking” I said.
    “Yes.”
    “Is there anywhere where we could talk properly?” he suggested.
    “The only place would be in the woods, they can see you but they can’t hear you.”
    The band finished their set, then began to play a military march.

    “There’s no getting away from it, the Village is regimented, it might not look like it, but everyone wears a uniform. This place might look like a holiday resort, but dress it up as much as you like, its still a prison!”
    “You might not believe me, but I was once a prisoner within its boundaries.”

28

    “YOU?”
    “I resigned my job, was about to leave for a better life, I woke up here. In my time here I have resisted, revolted, refused to wear, observe, and respond to a number. Fought against them, overcome coercion, and I’ve destroyed resistance.”
    “But you haven’t managed to escape….in all that time.”
    “One time I thought I had escaped, I actually escaped but came back.”
    “Came back?”
    “It’s a long story.”
    “So what is it you want from me?”
    “I want you with a whole mind, body and soul!”
    “Wh….what?”

    No.2 was seated in his office enjoying his elevenses when the grey ‘L’ shaped telephone began to bleep, at the same time the pair of steel doors opened and the lean figure of No.21 walked down the ramp and approached the desk. No.2 leaned forward and picked up the telephone.
    “Yes doctor.”
    “The two subjects are ready for the operation”
    “Thank you doctor, how is our friend Number Nine?”
    “He resisted the amnesia process to begin with, but now that all memories of the Village have been wiped from his mind he is remarkably calm all things considered.”
    “He’ll co-operate?”
    “We have made considerable strides in this technique since the experiment in which you were once involved. Not only can we change the minds of two people, but we can now implant, or programme into the mind of our choosing, certain memories, and such information from the donor subject. This helps the subject fit in with his new surroundings. Although I understand the subject will be returned into an environment he is all too familiar with, albeit in changed circumstances.”
    “Very good doctor, keep me informed.”
    “You will witness first hand the operation for yourself?” the doctor asked.
    “From a distance I think” No.2 replied and put the phone down.
    “I thought you wanted to make a better Village” No.21 said “and yet here you are involving yourself in experimentation!”
    “There is a point.”
    “And Number Nine?”

    “He’s the perfect subject being aware of their internal intelligence network. He already knows names, if not all the faces, of certain important key central personnel.”

    “You’re sending Nine back there on assignment, in order to infiltrate a security network for what, personal gain?”
    “Would you care for tea Number Twenty-one?”

 29

    The Seltzman machine was prepared. In the laboratory a number of technicians and doctors busied themselves in readiness for the forthcoming process. The programming of a computer was being completed, electronic controls checked and tested sending two arcs of electricity to electrodes positioned in the headrests of a pair of operating tables positioned within a tubular steel framework. Two subjects, No.9 and the Russian Colonel and defector Protrukov were placed on the operating tables; both had been heavily sedated for their own safety. Each wore dark goggles and a head set by which they were linked to the machine by electrodes, and other attachments ran from various parts of the body to the computer. The doctor and other technicians donned thick dark goggles to protect their eyes from the bright arcs of electricity. The doctor began to operate the machine, flicking switches in a certain order, turning knobs, watching dials. The computer began to whirr into operation, memory banks turned, and the laboratory filled with bright lights as the arcs of electricity became more and more intense, there was a humming sound which became louder and louder until there was a loud crack and a final flash of what looked like lightening. On a monitor screen scenes from the Russian’s memory were being played out, but in reverse, as his mind was taken back, back to a certain time in Protrukov’s life, from that point it would begin for No.9 in a small house on Shabolovka Street.......

    The pair of steel doors opened and No.2 entered his office. Sat in his chair was No.21, who jumped up the moment he heard the doors slide open.
    “Sitting in my chair” No.2 said crossing the floor.
    “Sorry sir.”
    “No, no you’re welcome to it. What have you there?”
    “Number .Nine’s file.”
    “What for?”
    “I was just thumbing through it before sending it for filing.”
    “Oh.”
    “It doesn’t say anything about Number Nine being able to speak Russian.”
    “No! Well I expect he picked up a few useful phrases while he was living there” No.2 replied settling himself in his chair.
    No.21 turned and was about to take his leave through the opening steel doors.
    “How is or friend Protrukov?”

  21 turned “Getting used to his new body, why?”
    “Well I was thinking….seeing as we’ve sent Number Nine the one 
way, we might as well send Protrukov the other.”

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    21 thought for a moment, then approached the desk “You have a devious mind sir; I do believe you’re beginning to grow into your new position.”
    “Will he co-operate?”
    “There are ways, one obstacle has already been overcome.”
    “Seeing as how the Seltzman process is only a mind transference, Number Nine as Protrukov he retains his own mind, yet has the voice of Number Nine. By the way sir, where had you been this morning?”
    “Old habits die hard Twenty-one, an early morning walk around the Village.”
    “You climbed the Bell Tower.”
    “You were watching?”
    “No, the Observers, it was they who reported your activity to the supervisor, he reported it to me that’s all.”
    “Well, as I said old habits………”
    “Yes sir, as you say old habits.”

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