This one was "informed" by a tale about a monstrously clever interrogation device...
"Sit down," the doctor said over the intercom.
Todd hesitated. The elevated table was scary in a blank, ordinary way. He didn't know what was going to happen, if he got on that thing... but he knew he wouldn't like it.
Trouble was, he didn't have a fuckin' choice.
Mr. Everts had caught him with Annie. His baby girl. The old bastard had him by the short hairs - and his family.
He ruled the county. And he'd said it would be a pleasure to ruin them all - unless Todd came to the lab, alone...
Sitting hesitantly on the edge of the pad, he saw a camera lens. Looked around, and saw a whole bunch of cameras.
She was a good lay - but, shit.
Todd pictured his dad. The look on his face, when the shop went under. Everts would do it, too. This was the only way.
"Tell me again," he said over his shoulder. "Gimme your word."
"You won't be injured. Or killed. You have my word," the doctor said crisply.
"Swell," Todd mumbled, seeing his mom's face. And Bull, his little brother - spooked all the time since he came back from wherever he'd been all winter. That wild story about being tortured. Weird shit. No people...
He was alone. The doctor was in the next room. But at least he was there. "Now what?"
The table buzzed. A little drawer popped open, near the end. He leaned over, and saw a bunch of pale blue pills.
"Something to help you relax."
The door to the monitoring room opened and closed. The doctor didn't even look behind him. It could only be one person...
"Status?" Everts said.
"Asleep. About five minutes now."
"Good, good." He cracked his knuckles. "Tape is running?"
"Ever since he walked in." The doctor glared at his employer's back.
Everts walked over to the window, near his chair. He loosened his tie, staring at the unmoving man. "He's a tall drink of water," he murmured. His employee chose to ignore him, and kept running system checks. "A mechanic. Filthy grease monkey. Trailer trash -"
"Ready when you are," the doctor said.
Everts nodded. He stepped over to the corner, got a bottle of imported beer out of the minibar and opened it.
Settling down gratefully in a black leather chair, he took a swig and looked at the monitors. Six little screens were inset under the window. Best seat in the house. "You make sure we're recording. Then... bring it in."
"Check," the doctor said, carefully neutral.
The sides of the table began to disappear.
As they retracted, gleaming steel tubes and cables curled up...
The doctor tapped on the keyboard a last time. Then he sat back and rubbed his face.
Metallic arms reached over Todd, and stopped. Red laser light flickered -
Two thick cables snaked up. Each was tipped with a wide, shiny circle. Those rings split, descended on Todd.... and found his wrists.
Bands closed again. The cables eased his arms up and over his head.
Another arm found Todd's neck, and stuck a large adhesive pad alongside his gullet. A small transmitter bulged out from it. Green numbers appeared on one of the doctor's monitors, updating every second.
Padded clamps found his boot-heels - pulled - and lost their grip. They repeated this several times, and Everts made a disgusted sound.
"They're just tight, that's all," the doctor said defensively. "Watch."
On the ninth try, his left boot slid off.
"Ah, there they go," Everts said happily.
The doctor just shook his head.
After his right boot was removed, the clamps dropped them both - and returned. Closing more gently, they dragged the torn, stained socks off Todd's feet. As soon as they did, two more bands were set around his ankles.
As the cables pulled tight, Everts chuckled. One monitor showed a tight shot of the bare soles, hanging off the end of the pad. Another camera was aimed from above, in front of his feet.
A full-body shot, from directly overhead.
One angle from just over his head, giving about the same perspective Todd would have. A side view of his head, and a nice head-and-shoulders view of him - still sleeping, for now.
"Sneaky son of a bitch," Everts said to that monitor. "Screw my daughter, will you?" He polished off his beer. "Nobody fucks with Alvin Everts, scumbag. Nobody..."
Todd yawned. His eyes fluttered open eventually. Then they traveled across the smooth white ceiling - and stopped at a camera. Stunned expression on his face.
"Priceless," Everts said, looking over at his employee.
"Uh-huh," the doctor finally replied.
Todd tried to sit up. Again. Once more. He looked at his right hand, craning his neck to stare at the band holding him down. Then, staring at his left wrist. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. Let it out slowly.
"Okay," he said. "Do it already. Whatever it is..."
The table whirred under him. Another arm, rising up -
In the control room, the doctor cleared his throat and keyed his microphone.
"No," Everts barked. "Allow me."
The doctor stared, and let go of the mike.
"Get me another beer," he ordered, picking up a mike of his own. "Pagliano."
His prisoner said nothing. His lips tightened...
"Prepare yourself. You're the guinea pig for a new piece of... equipment. A very profitable line for me."
The newest arm stuck something in Todd's hand. It was a plastic cylinder about the size of a good cigar, with a cable trailing off one end and a round red button on the other.
"Wh-what's this?"
"That, moron, is a panic button. On the end. Use it, if you need to." Everts leaned forward. "But every time you do, the test starts over. From scratch."
Todd looked at it, fingering the switch.
"Only a lightweight would need it. Or, should I say, light in the loafers." Todd opened his mouth, and finally just grit his teeth. Everts chuckled again, and continued. "But you're a big man, aren't you? My idiot daughter thought so. Well, time to show your mettle. I need to test my equipment. Need a real man to test it on. Since you think you meet the criteria, you can lie there and prove it -"
"What are you gonna do?"
"Do? Why, nothing. As for my machine... Well, no time like the present." He turned his head slightly. "Now," he hissed.
From the end of the table, another lens began to rise. Two more tubes came from below, stopping before they touched the unsuspecting feet.
Brushes clicked out.
Streams of oil spattered his toes, and ran down -
"Wha -"
The brushes advanced. Started to spin...
And creep.
Before he realized what was happening, Todd started to laugh. Then he was squirming, as he sucked in a huge breath... and roared it back out.
"Did you see that expression?" Everts crowed.
The panic button slipped from Todd's spastic fingers.
He didn't look in its direction. Actually, he'd forgotten all about it. The brushes were doing him in. He tried to tug at the restraints, but he couldn't do it. Not for long. He had to laugh. The feeling of the brushes, and the oil, was making it impossible to snap at the metal keeping him down...
Even though he didn't stop laughing, he couldn't focus on getting free. He tried and tried.
The brushes were ranging, now. Just over the heel of his left foot, from side to tender side. Up near his toes, on the right. He whooped and lunged around - stopping, always stopping, to just lay there and laugh a few seconds. Laugh hard. Roar, like it was so important he had to give it his best.
"Five minutes," the doctor said.
"Go to ten," Everts ordered, staring at the "Todd's-eye view" monitor.
"He dropped the panic button -"
"I'm well aware of that. Go to ten." He looked at the bucking Romeo, just as he paused in his fight to howl again. "Not a second less."
Todd couldn't see. Tears had filled his eyes. He knew he couldn't get up, but his body kept trying anyway. Mostly, to pull his feet up.
The oil seemed to magnify the sensation. Totally urgent, important action, on his feet. Tickling. Oh, fuck, he thought, and hooted like a crankster. The brushes outdid anything. This is not what he expected. Not tickling -
And he whooped again. Don't, don't think about it. It'll stop soon. It has to.
The old goat wouldn't tickle h-
Todd howled. Tickling. A special machine. Custom. Heavy-fuckin-duty tickl-
He howled louder.
"Nine-fifty," the doctor said.
"Go for twenty -"
"No."
Everts looked up. "Twenty."
"Not without the panic button in his hand," he shot back, arms folded. "No."
The console beeped. They looked back to the foot-cam, as the brushes pulled back, and stopped rotating.
Getting himself another beer, Everts fought back his anger. "You will do... what I say."
"I am. 'Keep him alive, and unharmed' - you said so yourself."
"He had his way with my daughter!"
"And he's here. For a long night. But we stick to the plan." Everts' eyes narrowed, but he didn't say anything. "At least, some kind of plan." The doctor looked at his console. "If you want him to last."
"How are his vitals?"
"Excellent," came the reluctant reply.
"I want him to last," Everts said darkly. "He won't fuck with me again."
The doctor grimaced. "All right. Fifteen minutes next. Then... three. Then twenty-five... ten, six, forty. Another ten. Fifty. Two short ones - say, three, and eight. Then a hour."
"An hour," Everts said dreamily, staring at the monitors. Todd laid there, chest heaving.
"Three short ones, then another hour."
"Two more hours. Back-to-back."
The doctor frowned. He tapped a few keys, and had the panic button brought back to Todd's unresisting hand.
When he was able, Todd tried to look behind him. He couldn't get his head back far enough to see the control room. They were watching, though. All those fuckin' cameras -
"You're one sick fuck, Everts."
"Oh, you're hilarious," his tormentor said softly, without keying the mike. "You're a regular barrel of laughs." He turned to the doctor. "Is he ready to go again?"
Eyes on the screen, the doctor nodded.
"Then... do it."
The brushes landed again.
"Oh no," Todd said automatically. Just before the oil spurted -
He started to chortle before the brushes even moved.
After a long five minutes - best he could tell - he made a last desperate attempt to pull his legs up. The brushes were covering more ground, more quickly. The inner sides of his feet. Between the toes.
Todd's legs relaxed. He shook his head a couple times, and quit moving. Whooping again, he realized he was not going to squirm anymore. He wanted to. Wanted it so badly. But he just couldn't. His body had different priorities now. Such as getting tickled -
Todd wailed once, long and high. And then he cackled like a mutherfucker.
He squeezed the case of the panic button. Moved his thumb away from the trigger, for the hundredth time since the brushes had started back in. Started tick-
He hooted as hard as he could.
It didn't make him feel the brushes any less.
"Look at him. He's a mess," Everts crowed.
A water-tube was poised over Todd's lip. He sipped at it, and panted in between swallows.
"I want his respirations under twenty," the doctor said. "Then you can have your hour."
"First hour."
The doctor sighed angrily. "Right."
"How can he still be that sensitive?"
"Forecasting. The program's got enough data to run simulations. Wireframe modeling of his feet. Pressure, pauses, full coverage -"
"And you're storing those models."
The doctor blinked. "Of course."
"Save 'em for later," Everts nodded to himself.
"What?"
"Never mind. Is he rested up enough yet?"
"I guess so."
"Let 'er rip..."
Todd jumped when the oil squirted again. And kept squirting.
He made a hoarse groan of dismay. And waited...
After a tense fifteen seconds, the brushes ended his suspense.
His fingers were caressing the panic button, getting closer and closer to the switch. It was only four minutes into the hour-long round, and the sweat was already dripping again.
"Do you smell something?" the doctor said suddenly.
"Smell - no. Quiet," Everts said, eyes locked on the overhead monitor.
And they were - until the doctor slumped sideways, and fell out of his chair.
"What... the hell," his boss said, getting up. But he didn't make it either. Dizzy - slamming back. He sniffed the air, then. His head wobbled...
Looking at Todd, squirming there, as everything went black.
In the control room, the men slept soundly.
The connecting door opened...
And closed.
Todd laughed continuously, forcing himself to not push the button. Starting the night over was way beyond anything he could imagine. But a little push of his thumb, and the tickling would stop. Stop. That would be so sweet -
He opened his eyes. Didn't know why. Had something changed? He couldn't see too well. Eyes all blurry.
The brushes were still at work, tic-
He had to howl, again. When that passed, winding down into fierce chuckles, he looked around. Nothing new.
But... that wasn't right either. Being watched. Had Everts come in here? Getting himself a better look?
Todd couldn't see anyone. The cameras, he told himself. You are being watched. Assholes. That's it.
But that wasn't all. He felt a stab of panic, deep in his gut. Didn't know why. This was bad enough...
He stroked the plastic sleeve of the button. And laughed.
After his eyes closed, and he retreated deeper into his delirium, the door opened again, silently.
The outer door was next.
After a minute, it flew open -
Permitting coils of rope to float inside.
The doctor was hogtied efficiently. The rope flew, and tightened. Pulled between his teeth.
Then it was Everts' turn. He was tied to his chair and gagged...
In the control room, the lights went out.
A keyboard moved across the counter. Keys clicked - slowly at first, then almost steadily.
In the corner of one of the monitors, a session timer was running. After a few more clicks, it froze -
00:08:13
Todd's laughter went on, unaware of the events taking place behind him.
The panic button was turned off.
Oil squirted again...
And the speed of the brushes doubled.
The doctor started to come around. It didn't matter. He couldn't get off the floor. The gag stayed tight.
Everts snored.
Todd's voice was gone. But he laughed anyway.
He got his hour, and then some.
It took him a long time to catch his breath. His clothes were soaked with sweat. He sucked at the water tube for a long time.
Finally, Everts was awake, rocking helplessly in his chair.
The keyboard clicked... and a last key was punched savagely.
Both men watched the connecting door swing open... and closed. Too late, they started to yell. The gags were sufficient.
Todd's stared at the bulge in his jeans. The brushes started twirling.... slowly. It was too slow, compared to before. He looked -
Still nothing different. He chuckled and fidgeted.
Then his shirt went up. Lifted in the air, off his belly. He blinked at it.
The cotton tore all the way up to his neck. Then the sleeves... With a final tug, it was gone. No shirt.
Todd started to snap at the bands then, shaking his head. His shirt, torn off. Like magic -
Fingers closed on him. Thumbs near his nipples, fingers low on his back.
He looked from one side to the other. No hands there. But he felt 'em. He shook his head, giggling silently. His thumb pounded on the panic button -
But the brushes didn't stop. Worse, the hands started to knead.
He howled, and pressed the button harder. Something jerked it out of his hand. He squinted, laughing at it...
The button popped out. Fell on the floor. The handle was stuck back between his fingers.
Now there was no button left to push. He knew it, but his thumb kept pounding mechanically. Flopping around, Todd screeched at it. Stick a finger into the hole where the button used to be. Panic button. His ticket out of here -
That didn't work. Nothing in there to push. Todd gulped air and roared it back out, so quietly.
The hands stroked in the worst possible way. Or so he thought. Slow, strong fingers.
And oily brushes. Spinning, roaming.
He couldn't get up. Why wasn't the doctor helping him? Was this part of the deal?
What if the doctor was... gone? No, oh no. No. That was impossible. Todd couldn't bear the thought. Alone, here... with invisible hands -
Even fuckin' Everts would have a little pity. Wouldn't he? But nobody was coming to help.
Apparently the panic button had a thin, long base. His fingernail couldn't press anything down. Then, naturally, when he was trying to turn the handle around - he dropped it.
Help, help, Todd thought frantically. It was all he could do. The bands held him down, with tickling fingers that really meant business. Help...
He couldn't think straight anymore. All he could do was stay here. Right here. Wait for it to be over.
Whenever that was.
The fingers roamed all over his chest. They teased his nipples until he thrashed around again. Got acquainted with his armpits. His neck...
When they were caressing his belly, Todd had a horrible realization - they were still on his sides, too. More fingers. He shook his head and howled like a four-barrel Cleveland.
The brushes clicked - had they stopped? He hadn't even realized it - and fuckin' raced up and down his soles. Oil, gushing...
But sweat was all the lubricant the ghostly fingers needed.
Everts watched, with wide eyes...
Todd was hardly even aware of drinking more water. Of another chance to catch his breath -
The fingers slid onto his thighs. They were in his pants. Also. Still covering his ribs, his armpits.
He threw himself around in blind panic. Hooting with the frantic, hysterical effort of... trying to feel it all, take it all in. Now this was tickling.
And it seemed to go on forever.
But it was only a couple hours later when the hands finally pulled off.
Todd was worn out. He needed sleep... and he was going to get it. Then he was going on a little trip. To a different room - even more secret - packed with food and gear.
Thanks to strict orders, no other employees would set foot in the building...
The doctor stayed in the plush chair all day, tied securely.
Through the glass, he watched Everts - who was stretched out, experiencing the ceaseless effects of his impressive device. The keys had been tapped, a last time. Creating a new wireframe model for simulation pre-tests, and a queued sequence...
Each round was a full hour of polishing from the oiled brushes. Low-intensity. Separated by long breaks and plenty of water.
Eighteen consecutive rounds.
And Todd...
He looked around, fearfully, at shelves full of gloves, toys, oil jugs and other supplies. Strapped down tightly across a funky-smelling mattress. All clothes gone.
Even though he didn't know how to get there, Todd's brother would have recognized the place. Bull knew every crack and stain in that ceiling.
20aug01