Nobody Questions the Outside Man (Part 3)
12
My senses worked at a minimum level, taking in the basics of stimuli. Dark corridors interspersed with dim lights, ending in the pale neon glow of a fluorescent light.
I heard voices, in and out of my auditory canals, I grabbed at the details that made sense.
“Found it in the food court.”
“Twitcher.”
“Old model.”
As I lay there, my senses began returning, my eyes focused my body responded. I could move, albeit under a heavy restraint, and with limited mobility.
“Hey. It’s back on.” Said a voice somewhere above my head.
I was heaved upright, and with my new angle the details of the room became apparent.
Monitors adorned the walls, images of the outside crowd straining behind barriers at the food court. Machinery cleaned up the mess that had been made during my escape.
I looked at those in the room, two SECURITY men, one, thin with piercing eyes, manipulating a control panel beneath the screens, the other, heavy set and slow, scanning me from head to foot, his mouth open slightly.
I looked at him, he was similar to the outside man, a face indicating slow thought, limited processing. He wasn’t beautiful, smooth or symmetrical. He looked like he was slowing down.
“What model?” He asked, a rasp in his voice, indicated damaged vocals.
“I don’t understand.”
He pulled the clothing away from my body. “Geez, almost as old as me!.” He stood back, looking at my clothing. His fingers traced the logo on my chest. “Looks like he’s out of Dillman’s.”
“That old fool, what’s he done now?” said the sharp eyed one at the controls.
My memory flashed at the familiar name. “Dillman’s! You know it?”
The heavy SECURITY man in front of me frowned. “What’s that now?”
“Dillman’s. You know this place? I need to find out what it is. I’m from a room and I escaped, I need to know my purpose and-”
The heavy SECURITY man laughed. “What’n the hell are you talking about? Escape?”
“From the room! We were all trapped in the room. For selection. The outside man came in and took some of the others. I escaped to find out.”
The man scratched his chin. It hung loose, swinging under input from his fingers. He laughed to himself, turning to face the controller. “This one’s thinks it’s special.”
“I’m not special, I just don’t accept their explanation.” I said as he laughed.
The smile reduced by degrees, but I could still detect it on his face.
“What explanation?” He asked.
“Our purpose in the room. We are kept in there, waiting for selection. I don’t believe the theory.”
The smile disappeared. “They don’t turn you off?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Your power.” He responded.
“You mean my purpose?”
“He said, power,” the thin guard said from his control center, “rest mode, you know?”
“No.”
There was a knock at the door. The heavy SECURITY man opened it.
I recognized the figure immediately.
The outside man.
13
The outside man stood with the SECURITY men and talked.
“Where’d you find it?” The outside man asked, his familiar eyes on me. He had his head wrapped in white material, stopping above his eyes.
“Food court. It was twitching out, bothering people.” Said the heavy SECURITY man.
“Said it escaped and was looking for it’s purpose.” Added the thin SECURITY man. “What are you doing to them back there?”
“Storage. Gotta replace the waiters when they break down.” Said the outside man.
“You got engineers serving food now?” The heavy one asked.
I lit up at the sound of my name. How did he know it?
“How do you know my name? Do you know my purpose?” I said, straining at the bar across my chest.
All three jumped at my response.
“This one’s got a name?” said the heavy one, aiming his thumb at me.
“Enjy, that’s my name. Enjy Neer.”
The SECURITY men looked at the outside man and laughed.
“How do you know it?” I asked.
The outside man shook his head. “That’s not your name, that’s what you are, an engineer.” He grimaced and held a hand to his head. “Damn thing gave me a hell of a headache earlier. Knocked me over. It’s getting broken down for parts. Not worth keeping.”
“How many do you keep out the back of Dillman’s?” The thin SECURITY man asked.
“replacement for each model. Except this one, I don’t know why Dillman keeps it. Doesn’t matter now, it’s faulty. Anyway, what do I owe you?”
“Maybe a half hour after work with one of the waitresses you know what I mean?” The heavy SECURITY man said. The other laughed and shook his head.
“I just handle the replacements, you gotta speak to Dillman about that.” The outside man said. He turned to face me. “Alright, let’s get you back to the store.”
14
As the outside man wheeled me out of the SECURITY room, he stopped and placed one of the beautiful face covers over my head.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked.
“We don’t want you scaring people with your big block head now do we?” He answered. The SECURITY men laughed as we left the room.
The outside man pushed me along a walkway, through the crowds, turning left and right as we traveled through the mass of bodies.
“Are we going back to Dillman’s?” I asked.
“You got that right. Gonna rip and strip you down into little pieces.”
“Why? I want to remain in my current state. I have a better understanding of –“
“Look, cut it out will you? I’ve got a splitting headache and I’m in enough shit as it is. Now stay quiet and let’s get you back to the store.”
“But I want to know the reason we are held in that room, and if the purpose explanation is true.”
“Shut up.”
“Why wont you tell me?” I turned my head towards him to read his reaction. He stared ahead at the crowd.
“I just work there.”
“Do I have to work there?”
The outside man stopped and rubbed the sides of his head. “No more questions.”
“... Why?”
“AAARGH!” He shouted. A few of the people around turned and looked, blank eyes processing him for a moment, then turning away. “Stop asking me shit. I have a splitting headache and I can’t-“ He stopped. “Alright look. I’ll answer one question then don’t ask me anymore. understand?”
“Yes.”
“One question. Clear?”
“Yes.”
“OK, what’s the question?””
I asked the one that drove my investigation. “What is my purpose?”
The outside man sighed. “To fix things.” He rubbed at the sides of his eyes. “Alright. You’ve asked your question. I told you your answer. Now let’s go and you keep quiet.”
I said nothing.
“Good.” He said, as we continued onward through the crowd.
As we moved past the moving mass of bodies I processed what I had just heard. My purpose, to fix things.
It was strange, I had known this all along. The situation I had been in earlier, trapped in that room with the others, I had the urge to fix it, to know why.
The outside man stopped the cart, bringing me back to the current situation. “I’m going in here to get some painkillers. Don’t talk to anyone.”
I said nothing, observing the parameters of our agreement.
The outside man left, heading through the doorway and disappeared into the crowd.
I looked down at the bar that was holding me in place and immediately began processing it. It was a simple problem, easy to solve. The mechanism clicked open with minimal effort and the bar raised, allowing me to stand up. My senses had returned to normal, and I was fully functional.
So my purpose was to fix things? If that was the case, then it was time for me to fix the biggest issue that I knew.
I needed to see Dillman’s, know the truth, and share it with the others trapped in the room, especially CQ.
The many paths to solving the problem raced through my mind. Of the various ways I could fix the issue I selected one which would require minimum effort and bring the fastest result. It was simple, and effective, and the outside man would help me. I sat back down, and sealed myself back inside the restraint bar.
It closed with a click.
15
DILLMAN’S FIFTIES DINER
The sign pulsed overhead as we approached.
I could see activity inside. Like the food court, it was filled with people, all sitting and consuming. Walking around, in between and overseeing the consumers I saw familiar faces, exact likenesses of those trapped inside the room. They were carrying trays filled with food, placing them on tables and taking empty ones away. Standing behind a bar, surrounded by bottles of liquid stood Gable, pouring one into a container.
I understood the reality of the situation, and how those inside had gotten it so wrong.
We stopped outside the entrance.
A man, shiny, uneven and struggling with effective movement, opened the door. His hair was new, his body was not.
“Get that wiped and broken down out back now.” He said through clenched teeth.
“Yes Mr. Dillman Sir.” responded the outside man.
This was him! The creator of the room!
The outside man wheeled me around to the side of DILLMAN’S, and we entered a side door. As we turned left and right, I recognized the hallway that I had encountered upon first escaping.
I had returned, filled with an understanding of my abilities and my purpose.
My purpose...
To fix.
16
We Returned to the first room I had seen after my escape. Now function became clear. This was a place for wiping, breaking down and storing the parts of those in the room.
A machine sat at the back of the room, giant, curved metal fingers from its body, big enough to hold an individual of my size.
The outside man began flicking switches on the machine. It hummed into life, the fingers trembled and lights flickered into a full glow.
This was to be the end of my existence.
At least that was DILLMAN’S intention.
I disagreed.
As soon as the outside man had walked over to the machine I had put my plan into action.
I’d already unfastened my restraint.
The hum of the machine had covered my movement.
I lifted my hands.
The outside man was surprised by my sudden appearance right behind him. The latch had been even easier to unlock the second time, the mechanism details were logged in my mind.
He flinched as he saw the facial material removed from my head, now stretched out in my hands.
I immediately placed it over his head, pushing him backwards. He sat down on the chair with a thump.
The fingers pulled in and secured him in place with a series of clicks.
He protested, but I had placed the face on him backwards, covering his mouth. Muffled cries bubbled from the flap connecting to his neck.
His sounds could reveal my presence. I removed the face covering from him, revealing his wide pupils and sweat covered face. The white material on his head had become loose and tangled as I peeled the face away. Instantly I saw how it could be used as part of my solution. I pulled at a large section of the cloth and ripped it from the rest. Rolling it into a ball, I inserted it into his mouth, stifling his shouts. I then took another strip and wrapped it around his head, sealing it in his mouth.
Taking the facial cover, I placed it over him again, this time the correct way around, and looked at him as he lay there, his beautiful face, misshapen body, and muted, weakening murmurs.
I watched him, as his helpless noises faded into to silence, his eyes settled on me, blinking from time to time. I saw a look in his eyes, the same displayed by those in the room waiting for selection.
It was a lack of control.
It was fear.
Those inside the room had felt fear for long enough.
Now was the time for truth.
17
I stood before the door that held everyone inside.
I was the outside man.
It was time for selection.
After a few button presses, cogs began to whir. The familiar neon blue glow illuminated the door frame. It began to ascend, the seal detached and vapor hissed around my feet.
I stood there, waiting until the door completed its opening process.
The vapor dissipated, revealing the group. They were seated in a semi circle in the centre of the room, CQ at the front.
In one corner, a sole figure sat behind a blue line. Gable. His jaw hung loose and his eyes gazed downwards.
I looked to CQ.
Our pale, obsolete eyes met.
We smiled.
Time to fix things.