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

Chapter Ten

"Take a seat, sir, this isn't going to be fast." Dr. Reid said to the General.

"I'll stand. I want to see this for myself."

"Alright then. Michael, take a seat on the bed here please, and roll up your sleeve." Reid pointed to a hospital bed, covered in white paper, and went across the room to get his tools.

Michael sat on the bed, and rolled up his sleeve. Aside from the crinkling of the paper as he moved, it was far too quiet, and the General standing there gawking at him was uncomfortable. As he waited for Reid to gather his supplies from a drawer, he wondered how many people here in this prison, and how often the bed was used.

Reid finally found everything he was looking for and came back across the room, relieving the awkward tension. Michael wasn't about to start a jolly conversation with the General, but Reid wasn't so tough to bear.

"Just let your arm relax." Reid said as he took Michael's blood pressure. "So, how was the... experience?" Reid asked. Michael knew he had tried to find a word other than "test", and he appreciated the sympathy. The General's sat there with his naturally angry looking face, expressionless.

"It was overwhelming... Astounding, but overwhelming. What was I supposed to feel?" Michael said as the cuff expanded, creating pressure on his arm.

"That is why you're here, we don't know." Reid answered. He took the pressure gauge off of his arm. "Everything's normal, so far. Can you describe it to me?"

"It was like I could make my mind do anything it wanted to do. I don't think I really grasped it. Like I said, it was a lot at once, but there was no barrier on the things I could recall, for one, and concepts that normally confuse me just started to make sense." Michael tried to explain.

"So, it works, is what you're saying." The General piped up.

"I think so." Michael answered, hesitantly. He didn't like the smile that was starting to creep into his cheek.

"Good. Hopefully we'll be done this whole deal sooner than I thought." The General said.

"That's a pretty quick assumption based on a few vague words. We haven't done any neurological tests yet. For all we know, you've merely created the next national drug pandemic." Reid said, mockingly.

"What are you waiting for, then? Do the fucking tests." The General snapped. He didn't seem to appreciate Reid's humour, and Michael figured that the two likely had a history similar to the one that him and the General had.

"Sir, yes, sir." Reid said, not changing his tone. It was clear that Reid didn't fear the man either. He knew the details of most of the operation, and had been there from the start. He was important to the progress of the research, and he knew his importance.

Reid took Michael into another room through the back of the med-ward, and the General followed. The room had a chair that was all wired up, and overtop of it was a frightening looking helmet that was meant to dig into the wearers head.

Reid gestured towards the chair of horror and Michael sat in it. Reid put the helmet down onto his skull, and Michael thought the rods felt like needles.

"This might hurt a little bit." Reid said, apologetically. The General watched with a smile that Michael wished he could throw a fist into.

"I'll manage." Michael assured the doctor. Reid went to a machine and started pressing buttons. Michael felt a surge of electric current go down the rods, into his brain and down into his spinal cord. Painful wasn't the right description, but it was extremely uncomfortable.