Happy Utopia Day, Joe McCarthy

Chapter 13

Have you ever tried to spit sawdust? 

—Senator Joseph McCarthy 

The tile and walls and furniture look just like they did in the shelters underground. I walk over to the long window. A guard in a black commando uniform stands outside. He holds an automatic rifle. He walks past the window and then turns around. At first I feel like ducking, but he doesn’t seem to see me. I wave at him. Nothing. The window is made of one-way glass. 

The hallway the guard walks down is painted sleek black and has a silver metallic logo that says area 22. The floor outside is a glossy white marble. I see computerized signs and futuristic electronic screens down the hall. Outside this room is the modern world. Inside, it is still 1950, just like underground. This room must be too secret to let any workmen inside to upgrade it. 

A desk on the inside wall has papers and office supplies set out with military precision. A nameplate says “Major Thomas Pilgrim, MD.” There is a small sticker after his name in red, white, and blue that says BM. I open the desk drawer to neatly stacked rows of pens and pencils. The bottom-right file drawer is filled with personnel data sheets and military medical conference pamphlets. The top-right drawer is locked. I give it a few hard but unsuccessful pulls. 

These young men and women have been brainwashed with McCarthy religion, ordered to torture for the government, and now what? This whole thing is all fucked up. I stand up and angrily kick the locked drawer, and it slides open. There are neatly categorized sleeves of microfiche. I randomly pick one and hold it to the ceiling light. 

“What’s that?” Land asks. 

“Microfiche.” 

“Little fish?” 

“No, microfiche. Haven’t you ever seen microfiche? It’s film with little pictures in it.” 

“Little pictures of fish?” 

“It’s fiche! Not fish.” I sigh and look around. A tall metal cabinet stands next to the desk. Inside are lab coats and medical books. The top shelf holds papers and an Eye Com EC 1000 portable microfiche reader. 

“I think we should leave,” Land says. 

“In a minute,” I say. I plug in the reader and choose a microfiche slide from a section of sleeves titled “Emergence Termination Procedures and Orders.” 

I turn the knobs and documents blur uncontrollably around the screen like a bad college research paper flashback. I finally control it and stop on the following letter: 

December 14, 2008

Office of the Judge Advocate General 

TOP SECRET ** Military Tribunal LH4087-AREA 22-Emergence ** TOP SECRET 

In application of President Roosevelt’s Proclamation 2561 “DENYING CERTAIN ENEMIES ACCESS TO THE COURTS OF THE UNITED STATES” a TOP SECRET Military Tribunal was convened with Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, the Honorable Timothy M. Lancaster, serving as Judge Advocate General. 

This Military Tribunal, LH4087-AREA 22-Emergence, operating within its authority under The United States, understands that in order to constitute torture, an act must be a deliberate and calculated act of an extremely cruel and inhuman nature. Specifically, Emergence Residents have intended to inflict excruciating pain through systemic beating, application of electric currents to sensitive parts of the body, and tying up or hanging in positions that cause extreme pain. Emergence Residents have utilized interrogation techniques that have been applied with minimal physical contact, such as poking, slapping, or shoving the detainee or the administration or application, or threatened administration or application of mind-altering substances or other procedures calculated to disrupt profoundly the senses or the personality. The tribunal recognizes that not all Emergence Residents participated in said activities, and also that if an Emergence Resident were to harm an enemy combatant or unlawful belligerent during an interrogation in a manner that might arguably violate before said guidelines, he would be doing so in order to prevent further attacks on the United States and could justify his actions.