S.M.A.R.T. (The Subject of Mind Altering Research and Testing)

Chapter Twenty

"You usually do, it seems you're not yourself today, Michael." The General said smugly. He could see that everything he had planned had been working. He almost felt bad for the pitiful looking man on the bed, but he didn't. He had asked for it, by trying to get the upper-hand. Now who is laughing?

Michael could see the pleasure in the General's steel eyes. He knows what he is doing. He knows what I've been feeling this whole week.

"Well, you're usually more consistent. I have to say it was a nice little break, though, not seeing you for a good while almost made me forget how much I hate you." Michael said with no restriction, trying to play off as his usual resistant self, but wasn't convincing. He hadn't showered in a week, and his eyes gave him away.

"Is that so, well maybe I'll start taking it a bit more easy on you and give you breaks more often." The General gloated.

Michael was silent. He got up without hesitation this time and walked out of the room and towards the locked door. The General followed him.

The courtyard was back to normal. The General must have known Michael wouldn't be fit for anything extreme after the month he would have had. The General had been taking the pill more often now. He secured a bag of pills, and found himself relating a lot to what Michael must have been experiencing. The knowledge was powerfully addictive.

The table was set with books of Mandarin, Latin, and Spanish. There was an instruction on the table that said for Michael to learn the languages as fast as possible. They would test him the following week. They wanted him to read in front of them so they could see how quickly he took the information in.

Michael took the pill and every feeling he had from the last month without it faded away. How was it possible, he didn't understand that, but everything was back. Everything. Every memory, formula, feeling. Michael picked up the book of Chinese and flipped through the pages quickly. He put the book down. His brain had taken it all in, and he knew most of the Mandarin language in one swift flick of the fingers and scan of the eyes.

Michael looked to see if the judges had noticed. He expected the General would have, but to his surprise, the General was not behind the glass. Michael's heart sunk. His memory jogged back to the room just minutes earlier. He fumbled the book into the closet. His subconscious hadn't even told him, but now it was. The General had watched him put it away in panic, and now he wasn't here. My book. He is going to find my book.

Not a moment later, Michael was convulsing on the ground. He fell hard, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head, his mouth frothing like a rabid animal. He didn't seem to be there at all, it looked like he was having a seizure.

The people from behind the glass panicked and ran out into the courtyard. One grabbed a phone and dialled in a quick frenzy.

"Doctor, get down here right now, it's the subject. He collapsed and doesn't look good." She said, quickly and calmly into the phone and then hung up.

The crowd surrounded Michael, whose face was bleeding now. He had bitten his tongue in his thrashing and it was gushing steadily. One of the men held Michael down and another put a piece of wood in his mouth to stop him from biting his tongue clean off.

Michael was finished convulsing when the doctors got there, but he was still out cold. Doctor Hall put a hand on his forehead.

"He's burning up. I've never felt a temperature like this before. It must be a hundred ten. Help me get him onto the stretcher."

Doctor Reidman checked too. He looked at doctor Hall with despair on his face.

Hall turned to the crowd. "He's dying. If he doesn't, he's likely to have brain damage. How much did you give him?"