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- Newsgroups: alt.cyberpunk
- Path: sparky!uunet!munnari.oz.au!cs.mu.OZ.AU!pjquin
- From: pjquin@ee.mu.OZ.AU (patrick james quin)
- Subject: Story - Victims
- Message-ID: <9300303.1480@mulga.cs.mu.OZ.AU>
- Sender: news@cs.mu.OZ.AU
- Organization: Electronic and Electrical Engineering - University of Melbourne
- Date: Sat, 2 Jan 1993 16:53:34 GMT
- Lines: 139
-
-
-
- Victims
- -------
-
- by Patrick Quin
- (23.12.1992)
-
-
- Dark.
- Light.
- Dark.
- Light.
-
- The inexorable progression of the impenetrable
- walls, a pastel yellowy brilliance, and absolute
- blackness.
-
- Dark.
- Light.
-
- I sleep, stretched out on the hard floor,
- comfortable, after all this time. In the blackness,
- my eyes may be staring insanely into oblivion or
- tightly shut against some monster of the
- imagination; it makes no difference, the blackness
- is complete.
-
- Dark.
- Light.
-
- I pace the cube, three steps this way, three steps
- that, carefully stepping over my umbilical cord, my
- life-preserving intravenous tube.
-
- Dark.
- Light.
-
- I exercise the required amount. Arms and legs
- flapping, stretching upwards, downwards, twisting,
- turning. If I refuse, I will be charged with
- glucose, pumped into me until I am shaking,
- hyperactive. The IV is my life and through it, I am
- controlled.
-
- Dark.
- Light.
-
- I dry swallow my fibre tablets. They will swell in
- my gut, simultaneously giving me trace elements
- unavailable to the IV. It is one thing to be fed,
- another to be kept healthy. Never let it be said
- that society killed you, neglected you.
-
- Dark.
- Light.
-
- I excrete and urinate in one corner, late in light
- time, and sleep promptly. My excreta will vanish
- soon. I tried to stay awake during dark, listening,
- listening for the sound of it being dealt with.
- Waiting, ears straining in the silence, broken only
- by my breathing and heartbeat. The black seemed to
- go on forever, until I was finally overwhelmed.
-
- Dark.
- Light.
-
- I talk to myself, sometimes to fill the silence,
- sometimes to entertain my ears. But mostly to avoid
- probable aphasia from a decade of incarceration.
-
- Dark.
- Light.
-
- I watch tv. Music videos. Physics. News. Language.
- Politics. Re-Thinking. Movies. Society will not be
- accused of culture-shocking ex-cubans. Society will
- educate and re-educate you, whether you wish it or
- not. Society has a responsibility to make each cuban
- a better person, to ensure that they are integrated
- back into society as smoothly as possible.
-
- Dark.
- Light.
-
- I am sorry. But that is not enough. I have rejected
- society, so it has rejected me. These are my choices
- as a cuban. I may suicide during my isolation in the
- cube, by simply removing the IV and starving or
- strangling myself. That is my sole right as a cuban.
- This releases society from its obligation to
- maintaining my life. I may go insane. Society,
- through the computer monitors, will prevent this
- with drugs and tv. I will serve my sentence and
- emerge, ready to be accepted back into society,
- determined never to return, safe in the knowledge
- that all those who rejected the society which
- protected them are cubed.
-
- Dark.
- Light.
-
- I am guilty. I left the club, helping her stand with
- one arm, clutching at the street sign with another.
- I poured her, semi-conscious, into the taxi and took
- her home. Then I took her, too drunk to care of
- dignity, consequences, protestations, shouts,
- struggles or basic humanity. Conscious only of my
- own desire, lust, power, strength. She was my
- possession, my object, to do with as I pleased. Her
- pitiful cries fell on a heart only aware of
- irresistible smells and sensations. A non person. In
- those few hours I rejected society, built to protect
- and serve all. When reality caught up with my
- uncontrolled primal self, I jerked from her,
- sickened, suddenly nauseous at my inhumanity,
- conscious of her moans of frustrated rage and
- complete helplessness. She fled screaming, stumbling
- into the street, naked, energized by the prospect of
- release from the hell of my creation. Incoherent
- from the after effects of alcohol and hours of
- suffering. She will never recover. She will walk
- alone, terrified by the smallest sound. No one can
- help her. The demons I planted in her trapped mind
- will haunt and torment her forever.
-
- Dark.
-
-
- ===================== ===== =====================
- Patrick Quin pjquin@mundil.cs.mu.OZ.AU
- University of Melbourne pjquin@munagin.cs.mu.OZ.AU
- Australia "Love is blind, lust has 20/20 vision."
-
- ===================== ===== =====================
- Patrick Quin pjquin@mundil.cs.mu.OZ.AU
- University of Melbourne pjquin@munagin.cs.mu.OZ.AU
- Australia "Love is blind, lust has 20/20 vision."
-