19. A Thousand Lights

1 0 0
                                    

The glass room, with its pure white ceiling and floor,  ushered in the light from a thousand LEDs, their brightness muted and defused. Similar to the light from a Chinese lantern, it cast a ghostly light over the four tinted black walls that hid the probing jelly eyes of its many human viewers.

Still alive, and having little choice but to look at its own reflection, the head waited patiently. If it thought of its surroundings in human terms (something it could increasingly do with ease), it would say that its prison was both classy and tacky. Something akin to a $50,000 grand piano or a strip-club owner's wet dream.

It hadn't spoken since its arrival. It knew they were busy studying readouts from the wires taped to its head, preparing and refining questions that they would fire off in the hope of a truthful response to tricky questions.

The 20 by 20 foot room it resided in was empty and made of bulletproof glass that would resist a sustained attack. Without a body, it guessed none of these properties would be considered necessary by its captors. Doubtless, if it had a body, it would be languishing in a concrete bunker deep underground.

Chilled air-conditioning fed into the room through vents in the floor and ceiling. If it had lungs, its breath would be visible for all to see. Of course, if it did have lungs, they may have pumped various gases through the closed ventilation system to see which one had the best results.

The light, although bright, was defused and easy on the eyes. Its head was supported on top of a solid heavy transparent plinth made of glass.    Medical grade stainless steel claws securely clamped its head to the plinth's top like crab's legs. Each claw, in turn, had sensors that measured warmth and moisture from its skin. This data was relayed through the vents to sensors, to be measured and recorded along with its steady (almost flat-line) brainwaves. Domed cameras captured its existence from all angles but like the ones before it, they struggled to capture the finer details. A blob of gray/black clay, it seemed fuzzy and poorly outlined on the monitors they fed.

The plinth could be turned at will to face any of the four walls. The gathered people could address the head in person. If they dared, which he doubted.

Presently, their thoughts betrayed them. Fear and excitement gradually grew in them, infusing his mind with its heady mix. This had a net effect of stirring up dark intentions that played to their every fear. It would be gentle at first, it thought. A playful tongue poked from the slit of its cruel mouth. Tasting their fear and revulsion. It smiled.

***

Its mind drifted in meditation, half noticing the thoughts beyond the glass and the world at large. Thoughts that hungered for the knowledge nestled deep within its mind. Their main aim was to use them to thin out the population. Starting with the ghettos and ending with those that were in direct competition for resources. Indeed, anyone who didn't fit in with their vision of the future would be kicked into the abyss and trampled under cloven hooves. To be given the opportunity to hasten their plans made them as dizzy as school kids on the last day of school.

They wanted a cull of what they called the herd, they just wanted to be sure that they weren't part of that herd. To have an army of these creatures would make an ideal solution. The blame could be placed squarely on their shoulders. History could be written accordingly.

It knew what it would say and it knew what their response would be. The crux, it knew, was when it told them things they didn't want to hear. Once they started trying to threaten it, make demands on it, events would most likely turn nasty. It smelt the burning ozone from cattle prods that had been tested out in readiness of its arrival.

At this point, it would try to break the tension by asking to speak to one of their kind, outside their immediate group. Confusion would follow, because it would not be asking for anyone they knew. This wouldn't conform to their 'take me to your leader' scenario.

Dark DreamWhere stories live. Discover now