Chapter Ten: "Research"
Come morning, a narrow ray of light shone upon my face, waking me from a fitful sleep. My serenity was disrupted by an uneasy feeling and the confidence I had experienced the night before was slipping away.
I was told by an orderly that first meal would be served in the common area and I joined several other so-called patients there. What was served was nothing even close to palatable and appeared to be some type of thin porridge.
We were all dressed in the same plain white tunics and loose pants with matching white slip-on shoes. The only difference between us was the color of our skin which related to the origin of our species.
I sat with two human males and a Tholothian female who were quiet and pensive. Only the oldest male seemed interested in what was happening around him and immediately struck up a conversation with me.
"Qui-Gon Jinn," he introduced himself with a friendly smile. "And who might you be?"
The older man slurped the gruel as if it was the finest meal he'd ever eaten. "Obi-Wan Kenobi," I told him. I stared at the runny, gray substance in my bowl, stirred it around with my spoon a little and then lost my appetite completely.
"Obi-Wan. Hm," Qui-Gon pondered between mouthfuls. "Have we met before? Your name sounds familiar."
"I don't believe so," I told him, glancing at the others, who robotically ate in silence.
"Intriguing. No matter. Welcome to the asylum. You'll want to do everything you can to get the Doctor on your good side. She's a real piece of work."
"Really?" That came as a surprise to me. She seemed accommodating and appeared to have a decent bedside manner. "That's surprising. She seemed professionally courteous yesterday."
Qui-Gon chuckled as he swallowed, which came out as a rather cynical grunt. "Don't let her fool you. Just do as she says and don't cause any trouble and you'll get along just fine."
This older gentleman seemed to know a lot about the good doctor, which made me wonder. "How long have you been a resident?"
"Oh, I've been one of her favorite lab rats for nearly ten years."
Ten years! And he still had enough humor to joke around? If I was kept here for ten years, most likely I'd favor our companions on the other side of the table.
"Pardon me, but you don't appear bothered to be here for that long. Everyone else seems quite the opposite." In fact, each patient I had seen so far wore the same blank expression as if their lives no longer had any meaning whatsoever.
"It's all about attitude, Obi-Wan. I choose to live in the moment. Don't focus too much on the past or future, but learn to enjoy every second you have. You don't know when those seconds are going to run out and then where will you be? And what good will it have done for you to sulk your life away?"
He had a point. I appreciated his optimism, although that earlier sinking feeling had returned. Just in time to warn me of an approaching orderly, actually.
"Your morning therapy session is scheduled to begin now, OK259. Please follow me."
"Good luck," Qui-Gon announced before reaching for my bowl of uneaten glop.
I doubted luck had anything to do with what was about to happen to me. Exactly what was Dr. Treven wanting to know? How I accessed the Force? What I could do once I had? It all seemed rather pointless, unless she was trying to figure out a way to permanently render a Force user incapable of using it. That was the only thing that made sense to me. And after all the trouble I'd had so far because I was born the way I was, I welcomed it! Perhaps then, I could lead a normal life with Padmé and not be forced to hide who I was.
"OK259, please take a seat," the doctor suggested once I'd entered the therapy room. I had some idea of what a counseling area should look like, and this room was nothing like I'd imagined. Instead of a cozy room with a comfortable couch or a couple of chairs, there was a white leather lounger in the middle of a stark white room. It looked comfortable enough, except for the instruments that were hanging directly above it. Other than those things, the room was completely empty. Three walls were blank while one had a wide, single window.
Once again, that feeling of dread shuddered through me, although I did what I was told. Qui-Gon had informed me he had undergone ten years of treatment and had kept his good humor, so maybe it wasn't going to be so bad.
"State your age and date of birth, please," Dr. Treven asked, datapad in hand.
"Thirty-five. Tenth month, thirteenth day," I replied. "Which I realize will be coming around again soon, so actually…"
"Just answer the questions please. We don't have time for needless conversation."
Such rudeness was unexpected, but I recalled Qui-Gon had warned me about the doctor's ill character. If I was unable to expand on conversation, I'd have to charm her in other ways. There was one thing I needed to understand, though.
"What are you planning on doing with me?"
Her grin seemed friendly enough, although back home, I recalled a stalker lizard who also tended to smile right before it attacked.
"That really is none of your concern. Just lie back, relax, and don't fight the machine. If you do, it will only cause you greater discomfort."
Discomfort? Why? A million questions ran through my mind, but my time for asking them had apparently just run out.
"Nurse Chetra, let's begin with phase one, please."
Panic gripped me and caused my heart to begin racing as one robotic arm that had been stationed above came down to inject my neck with a liquid that burned like blue blazes as it made its way to my brain.
"Relax," I was reminded, by a doctor I could no longer see. To fight against the pain, I had squeezed my eyes tightly closed and pulled mightily against the restraints on my thighs, ankles, wrists, biceps, and forehead.
It was difficult to figure out what was happening. It was almost as if every nerve ending in my body had been ignited. When I finally did open my eyes, I imagined I would see flames consuming my extremities. Nothing visual was occurring though. Whatever was happening to me was apparently all in my head.
The doctor adjusted the sensors along my scalp and chest before issuing out another order. "Begin phase two."
"No, please," I begged although obviously, nobody was listening.
This time, another metallic arm drifted down, although this one didn't have a needle attached to it. It did, however, have another type of injector of some sort, and when it touched my chest, a bolt of electricity shot through my body, which caused me to arch against the restraints and grit my teeth in agony. I would not scream, I vowed to myself. I wouldn't give her the satisfaction.
"Report?" I heard her say next although she seemed further away somehow.
"No change."
"Very well," Treven responded, clicking on her datapad once again.
If I begged her to stop, would she? Did she have any mercy in her whatsoever? My gut told me she didn't and the best I could do at this point was to survive.
Don't fight the machine, she had said. Perhaps if I tried to follow her orders, I could manage to get through this.
"Phase three," the doctor announced.
"Are you sure? This is his first session," the comrade behind the window reminded her.
"Yes, I'm sure!" Treven seethed while I gasped for breath and readied myself for another round. "His count is higher than anyone we've encountered and we've got to activate it. Phase three!"
Phase three was actually a repeat of phase two, only much longer and at a higher voltage.
"Still no activation."
"Give in," a voice I realized belonged to Dr. Treven spoke quietly into my ear. "There's no shame in it. You're protected here. Go ahead. Use the Force."
"What?" I whispered through a clenched jaw. She wanted me to? Is that what this was all about? She was wanting to study my access to the Force? Of course she did! It was all beginning to make sense now! Or at least it was until the pain increased substantially and I passed out.
Later, I awoke on the cot in my assigned room with the door flung wide open. There wasn't a mark on my body and I had no memory of what had just occurred. I recalled a conversation I'd had during first-meal with a kind older gentleman named Qui-Gon. What happened after that was a bit of a blur. As soon as I woke up, it was as if all memories of my therapy had been erased. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't recall any of it, although something inside told me I should probably be thankful for that.