T H E B L A C K
"Program's code disseminated. Code leak characterised by cerebral transference. Mutual code actualised. Program termination results in elimination of both hosts. Elimination is not...is not...viable. Proceeding with task...not viable...proceeding with task..."
Billy lies in the Psychiatric ward of the hospital, awake but heavily sedated and strapped down to his bed. His doting Mother, also sedated following her collapse earlier that evening, lays in a bed a few floors down. His chart hangs from a hook at the foot of the bed, detailing the doctor's findings. They had had no choice but to commit Billy to psychiatric care after his rapid deterioration into what medically presented as a ‘state of rare but extreme catatonia, brought on by causes unknown.' The doctor's notes suggested that Billy was a danger to himself and others, displaying ‘unprecedented strength and vigour' when attempts to physically restrain him were made for his own safety.
Two orderlies pull Billy's bed out from the room, wheeling it down a long, anonymous corridor, and stopping to unlock Room 10 at the end. They hesitate for a few seconds in momentary fear of the boy. Neither of them seeing anything like his level of ostensibly unprovoked, and random ferociousness before. The elder of the two orderlies secretly believed the child to be possessed by a demon, and felt fearful of it transferring upon touch. The other had only started working in this ward recently, inspired by the ease of the night-shift. He had never imagined he would witness such a thing. Let alone in a child. Putting their fears aside, the orderlies carry Billy into Room 10, lying him down on his side as per the instructions of the doctors, anxious about vomiting. They quickly back out of the room, still unnerved at the silent aggressor.
The younger of the two orderlies sits at the nurse's station with his feet up on the counter. A reality show plays on his portable television, viewed sparingly through his tired eyes. A plain, but smartly dressed man approaches. He strikes a bell on the counter which jolts the orderly awake.
"Oh...hey...yeah how can I help ya?" The orderly asks whilst rubbing his eyes and quickly removing his feet from their resting place.
"There's a patient I wish to speak to, a young boy. I require a room number," the man replies, flashing a police officer's badge.
The orderly pushes himself on his chair over to a set of wall-mounted pigeon-holes, and gathers some files, pushing his chair back to the counter with them. "Oh, sure, lemme check. We just wheeled in a kid a couple hours ago, freaky little guy. Don't you need a warrant or something to see a patient this late?"
"That won't be viable...necessary," the man returns, fumbling his words uncharacteristically.
Accessing the situation for a further few seconds, and deciding not to create any unnecessary aggravation for himself, the orderly scans the file a final time.
"Oh yeah, room 10. Good luck getting' him to speak, though. I think he's all ‘mute', or whatever."
"Program has lost capability to vocalise...I'm so sorry, Billy...Proceeding with task...Not viable...Threat low...Target secure."
"His room is a secure room, yes?" The man asks immediately after the orderly.
"Yeah, man. It's solid. No one's getting in or out without coming through me first, ya know?" The orderly responds, with conscious bravado.
"It's not your fault...Threat neutralised...Proceeding with task...Not viable...Target secure."
The man says nothing for several moments, before the orderly interrupts the awkward silence.
"Hey, man. You ok?" He asks, waving a hand in front of the man's face.
"Open it," the man says declaratively, upon turning and walking towards the room.
The orderly quickly runs round to the front of the counter in response to the man's haste.
"Hey. Hey!. I told you it's solid, man. I can't let you in there without a court order. Hey!" He calls down the corridor before running down it.
Reaching the man who had stopped outside Room 10, the orderly takes a few seconds to catch his breath, and find the relevant key.
"Ok, ok. I can just let ya take a peak as long as it stays between us, right?" He says, whilst sliding across a bolt, and twisting the lock open.
"There he is, safe as houses. Now I gotta shut this up before someone sees," he offers, urgently.
"Program location secure...Proceeding with task...Not viable...We'll get through this, I promise...Location secure...Location secure..."
"Satisfied, Officer?" the orderly asks, with a hint of frustration over not originally being taken at this word.
"Yes. Satisfied," the plain but smartly dressed man answers, before turning to walk away. With his shadow leading him down the corridor, he enters an elevator, leaving the floor.
Exiting the elevator, crossing the foyer, and pausing outside the hospital's main doors, the man raises his hand to an earpiece in his left ear.
"Task complete," he declares into it, before walking down a side-alley, disappearing into the night.
Inside Room 10, a child lies motionless in the foetal position on white, padded flooring, staring listlessly in the direction of one of the similarly padded walls. The child's eyes glisten with a cocktail of tears and medicinal eye drops, and appear glazed over as a consequence of an acutely powerful injection of Diazepam. Aside from the gentle murmuring of its sole occupant, the only sound filling the diminutive room is the intermittent buzz of the fluorescent lighting, recessed into the high ceiling.
The desolation of the room is a singular entity, devoid of a tether to the remainder of the building, and far removed from the beating heart of the society thriving outside its barren walls.
The rhythmic drone of the lights is momentarily broken by a soft, lone voice. From their position on the floor, the child begins to perforate their catatonic calm via the gasping repetition of one sentence:
"I'm...awake."
