Mister Carson

At the end of the bloodshed in 6023, the United Government was formed to oversee world security. Representatives of all countries who supported the UG met at a summit in Scandinavia to discuss a new calendar, the old scale reversed to the dawn of known civilisation. And so the turn of the year brought with it the year 1 of the so-called era of peace.

Machinery and technology came on fast around 350, developing rapidly. Now corporations ruled, with business taking precedence over the concerns of citizens in the developed countries.

He wrapped his head around the information, putting pieces together, but he felt like a young child. He possessed only a small knowledge base and learning was frustrating.

The visits were all too infrequent. The walls of the room he was accustomed to seemed to close in on him without warning. He would lie in bed or huddle in a corner for hours.

Before long Carson had taken to talking to himself aloud, muttering really. It took a great effort to keep his tongue in check. He could ill afford to risk them listening in on him. The pressure mounted and he came to a decision. There is only one way out, he thought. I can't stay here any longer.

And so Doctor Harrison made his entrance. He folded his arms and pursed his lips in thought, studying his lab rat. "No tests today. We've enough for the time being."

"Who are you?" Carson asked.

Harrison laughed. "You know who I am, Mister Carson. Need I remind you I will not waste my time here? Do you have anything else on your mind?"

"Who are you really? Who do you work for?"

The rise in his voice level surprised the Doctor. For a moment his eyes burned with a previously unseen intensity.

It was Carson's turn to be surprised when the man replied, "We are a high-level scientific agency. That is all I am permitted to disclose."

"So I'm some sort of experiment?"

"You do not know the scope of this. Please let it go."

Carson fumed. "I have a right to know what is going on. What you're doing to me. I'm going out of my mind!"

He was on his feet, tired of the stupid metal chair. He took a step closer to Doctor Harrison, who tensed.

"This conversation is over."

Harrison turned in a hurry to the door. Carson pounced as the door slid open, barging past the Doctor. Harrison caught his sleeve at the doorway and yanked him back. Carson took a swing at him. Harrison doubled over, but it took him further away and the door slid shut. Carson basked in his rage, letting it consume him. He grabbed the front of the Doctor's coat, hauled him to his feet, and threw the man hard against the wall beside the door. "Die you bastard!"

He punched the Doctor in the jaw just before he slumped to the floor. Blood dribbled from his gaping mouth. "Please," he muttered.

Carson's eyes lit up as the door slid open for its indisposed master.

"Please."

The voice was so weak Carson found himself leaning closer to hear. He jerked back, confused. A few seconds passed and he knew why. For the first time in his short memory, he cared. The man who was causing all this pain was also the only person to take the time to see Carson. Ulterior motives aside, Carson felt sorry for him.

The next moment he was sent sprawling. Landing on his back, a shudder went through his body. He cried out, not in pain but in anguish. Summoning all his strength, he leaped up and lunged.