Unknown Location
Heavy-lidded eyes had scarcely opened before bright, halogen lights shone on them causing tears to sting and flow. Heat scalded skin too long immersed in seemingly icy temperatures. Dormant muscles screamed in protest as instinct propelled them to move and flee yet could not shackled as they were by artful and artificially-induced ennui. Voices swirled around her. They sounded young, coolly professional and terrifyingly unknown.
"The subject has awakened," said a monotone, hard-accented male voice. "File and case identification 0901CX313."
"I don't know about age," said a female voice, light yet with the tenor of authority. "Too high."
"Clearance is Level A. The subject exceeds physical and mental requirements for the program and it was verified in the field," replied the man. "Is age such a problem?"
"Sometimes. Life experience and patterns of behavior have been established longer."
"And force of will?"
"That isn't necessarily associated with age," said the female. "Subject's name?"
"Doctor, we ... you have been warned about names. We are not to-"
"No one is a number, not even in this place. Name?" asked the female imperiously. "And stop with the doctor title."
"But you've earned the-"
"Micha, enough on that topic," said the woman. "Her name please?"
Paper rustled. "Charlotte," came the reluctant reply. "We all have much to lose. One of these days, you will go too far."
"Been there. Done that. Here I still am," answered the female flippantly. "Administer the latest protocol to Charlotte here. I'll return in one hour to observe. What room is available?"
Latex-gloved hands gently opened Charlotte's eyes. A beam of light flashed across Charlotte's vision once again. Briefly, the seared image in her mind's eye of a hated and feared man - who with one whispered word had destroyed her and her future - was replaced by another face. With all her energy, Charlotte willed her eyes to remain open. The unfocused blob of a face slowly developed definition as the seconds ticked by.
"Quarantine room three," said the man. "Why DO you check on them every hour? It takes eight hours to complete the process."
"I like to check for myself and make sure things are going as planned. My fath-, never mind," said the woman. "Just call me thorough."
The face that loomed in her sight was familiar yet Charlotte's fogged mind could not recall why she felt she ought to know this person.
The woman said, "Charlotte, you will be helping us with an experiment very soon. The changes will happen gradually but ... permanently. You will feel no pain. You will not suffer. I would like you to know that by doing this you could help many, many people in the future. Remember that. Please."
"Too far," commented the man.
As the face moved out of Charlotte's field of view, the woman said, "Every person deserves to know something, even a little bit, of what will be happening to them. It's common human decency."
"A waste of time, Robin. The subject will remember nothing."
"The point is that I will remember," said Robin. "This is all about me, right?"
The man chuckled. "Of course."
Charlotte's eyes widened. The name and the face had coalesced in her mind. She knew this woman. She knew Robin Scorpio.
The sound of paper rustling filled the room. The man said, "Hmm, this one is not ours."
"What do you mean?" asked Robin.
"After we verify successful protocol application, the subject is to be retrieved by a client in six hours."
"How can we verify when it takes eight hours?"
"The orders say six hours after initial application. He signed it himself."
"Fine. Six hours," said Robin plainly annoyed. "I'll be in my office if you need me. You can call it a night after this one, Mischa."
"Call it a night? I am not familiar with that."
"It means you can go home. Stop working," replied Robin.
"It is my visitation day tomorrow. May I have the day off?" asked Mischa.
"Of course. How old is Boris now? Six?"
"Seven and getting taller," said Mischa. "I have a train set for him for Christmas. He should like it."
"Oh, he will. He'll love seeing you more," commented Robin. "Listen, don't bother finishing your shift. Complete Charlotte's protocol then go home. Rest and get an early start tomorrow."
"Thank you, Robin," Mischa replied. "I wish things were different."
"We all do," said Robin wistfully.
On the gurney, Charlotte absorbed all the bits of information she was hearing. She willed herself to stay alert. I must not sleep. I must not sleep. Robin, she's the key.
Unknown Location
Robin went into the room where Charlotte lay sleeping attached to several monitors. In a clinical fashion, she began an examination of the test subject confirming that the treatment had been given. As an act of kindness, Robin unstrapped the mouth gag that wrapped itself around Charlotte's face. Then removed the eye shades. As was usual with these cases, Charlotte's face and jaw was damp from a combination of tears, perspiration and drool. Below, Robin knew that there would be signs of incontinence if she bothered to look. The treatment ripped all dignity and control from the subject while leaving no marks physically. All the scars were on the inside.
Robin stood by Charlotte's head for a few seconds in silence. She straightened Charlotte's mussed hair as best she could. She began a litany that she said to every test subject she personally saw. It was a balm to her conscience. She hoped that it gave some peace to the subject.
"I know you can hear me but can't respond. I'm sorry for what's happened to you. However you got here, you don't deserve this. No one does," said Robin. "What happens after you leave here is out of my control. I've done what I can to make the treatment easier - a little bit of mercy and kindness I guess. I've changed the formula over time to make it as painless as possible. You should feel like you're entering a dream state. You'll be stuck in this dream awake or asleep. This dream may be about a different person in a different place. I wish I could leave you some pieces of your old life, your old self, but I can't. Sometimes, the spirit and the will can be strong enough to hold on to some things though. You're still in the early stage now. If you try really hard, think of one thing that you want to remember. Maybe something good, someone you loved, some purpose. Hold on to it as you enter the dream. Don't let go. Maybe you can keep it with you. I don't know for sure. It's all theoretical. I don't know what happens to you all. No one tells me anything afterwards."
Robin sighed. She took out a syringe from her lab pocket. With precise movements, she injected the full contents into Charlotte's carotic artery in her neck. "All I can say is that I'm sorry. I'm sorry that your life has come to this. I'm going to do one more thing to try to help you. I'm injecting you with a serum. I believe the serum will neutralize some of the harsher components of the treatment that keep the subject completely locked in. It may take years or it may never pass. I just don't know. I can only hope that one day, you may be able to get out of the dream."
"I don't know if I've given you a gift or curse but I can't stand by and do nothing. You'll be entering the dream little by little now. You'll become a blank slate ready for someone to create a new dream for you." Robin took Charlotte's hand into her own. "I'm here. Holding your hand. You're not alone. I'll watch the monitors and wait until you're in the dream state. I'll stay until you're gone. I wish I could do more."
Minutes passed when suddenly something unexpected happened. Charlotte began to stir.
"Wait, what? You're supposed to be numb," said Robin as she placed a hand on Charlotte's midsection.
Unintelligible sounds came from Charlotte's mouth. Her hand gripped Robin's hard.
"Trying to talk?" Robin leaned down towards Charlotte's face.
"Name ... Charlotte Devane. I know ... Robin. Alex ... Anna ... Scorpio," said Charlotte between heaving breaths. "Help me!"
"What? Stay with me, Charlotte!" Robin rushed to a medical rack. Frantically, she looked through the vials and ampules. She took one marked "Mondafinil" and filled a clean syringe half full. She injected the syringe into Charlotte's carotid artery. "This is a stimulant. It will boost your cognitive abilities and keep you awake for at least the next thirty hours."
Robin studied Charlotte's face as the Mondafinil took effect. Her eyelids began to flutter. A rosy hue began to rise in her cheeks.
Charlotte's eyes opened. "Where am I?"
"Hell on earth," said Robin. Then she recoiled as a new thought entered her mind. "I'm being tested. This ... you're a sham. Stupid me, I fell for it." Robin tensed expecting the door to burst open at any moment.
"No sham. I am Charlotte Devane. i can prove it."
"The same Charlotte who sent assassins after my mother and my aunt?" asked Robin still suspicious.
"I was misguided. I love my daughter in my own way," said Charlotte. Under the sheet that covered her, she tried to flex her feet and toes. "I can't move very well."
"Temporary muscular paralysis from the treatment. It will pass in a few hours." Robin moved to check the door and she checked the outside corridor. There was no activity. As far as she knew, these rooms were not actively monitored. Sleeping patients were boring to watch. She returned to Charlotte's bedside. "Don't move so much. You're supposed to be sleeping. Close your eyes."
Charlotte obeyed lying back and relaxing as much as she could. She whispered, "What are you doing here?"
"I could ask the same of you."
"Faison. He ... took me by surprise. Bastard."
"Faison? Is Mom-" began Robin.
"Anna is safe at home I assume." Charlotte kept her eyes closed but her ears missed nothing. She had heard every word of Robin's pseudo-confession. Some things were becoming very clear to her.
Robin nodded. "Leora must be big by now."
"Not Pine Valley. She's in Port Charles with you and your family."
"With me? But I ... I died in a car accident he arranged," said Robin.
Charlotte smiled inwardly. "Doctor Robin Scorpio-Drake, married with one daughter, Emma. Anna dotes on her grandchild."
Beside her, Robin stood in shocked silence.
"A double. A good one. She has your life. Your family," said Charlotte using words as weapons in the ways she knew best. "Who is HE?"
"The devil himself," said Robin. Her hand took hold of the bed handrail as she swayed on her feet. "They don't know. Never knew I was ... gone."
"Life goes on except for you and me," said Charlotte. "Does the devil control your double?"
Robin flinched. "He must." Her voice cracked. "All my cooperation for nothing. They're still in danger, more danger. I ... I have to get out. Warn them."
"You have a way to escape?"
"I won't know until I get out."
"Take me with you."
Robin shook her head. "I can't. Too risky."
"How can you make it alone?" Charlotte grasped at straws. "Will Anna believe you? I can verify who you are."
"My mom knows me," said Robin firmly. "She will."
"Will she? Or will she believe the daughter who gave her a grandchild?" asked Charlotte. "Your uncle ... Mac, I believe, is getting married. I read the notice in the paper. Is she a double, too?"
"You'd say anything to get out."
"I was there weeks ago. I ... met Anna and my Sash face to face. They look very well and happy. It was a fundraiser for, let me think, the Alan Quartermaine Pavilion, in honor of the late doctor. Murdered in the prime of life."
"Alan's dead? You ... you're lying. Jason would ... would never let anything happen to his father or his family," said Robin.
"Why would I lie about that?" asked Charlotte. She fought for calm as she sensed Robin wavering and beginning to believe. She had to remember whose daughter she was. She could not afford mistakes. "Jason Morgan, yes, Sonny Corinthos' right hand man, judge, jury and executioner. A hardened killer I'm told. He is a Quartermaine no more."
"No! Not Jason," said Robin obviously flustered. "He wouldn't go that far."
"Times change. People change," said Charlotte. "I have more information. It wouldn't do for you to return to Port Charles with no knowledge of how things are now. That would be a serious disadvantage. Take me with you and all my information is yours."
Robin's watch alarm began to beep. "It's time for tea."
"How quaint. I could murder a cup right now."
"I have to go," said Robin moving away from the bedside. "I have to keep to schedule before the witch comes looking for me."
"Take me with you," said Charlotte.
"I can't trust you."
"You can't leave me here."
"I can't jeopardize myself for you. I won't."
"Where is your compassion?"
"Not here. Not anymore."
"I'll tell someone about your escape," said Charlotte.
"You could. I can't stop you. Goodbye, Charlotte." Robin closed the heavy steel door.
"Whatever it takes," said Robin under her breath. With a twist of her wrist, she locked the door. No one else would be checking on Charlotte prior to her delivery to the client in a few hours time. By then, she had to be out and away. This time she would succeed.
Robin finished her tea and small sandwich in her office. Hilda put a tray down next to her. Her pills and a glass of water were at the center of the tray.
"This is a bit late for you, Robin," said Hilda. "You work too much."
"She is inefficient," said Britta, Robin's assistant.
"Perhaps, more staff would be helpful," said Hilda.
"It would be better if we had electronic records and-" Britta stopped herself from continuing remembering the ban on electronics and digital documents around Robin. "Advanced notice on certain tasks would be preferred."
Robin flipped through folder pretending an interest in them that she did not feel. "I know it's late for you, Britta. I'm sorry. If these new trials weren't so important to ... to us, I could have waited until tomorrow. You know I need to see results every day to gauge progress."
Britta nodded. "Our project makes demands on us all. You should work harder."
Robin bit down on her tongue to prevent a caustic remark from escaping. Instead, she said, "Thank you for finishing these reports, Britta. The results are better than I expected."
"May I go now?" asked Britta.
"Yes, of course."
Britta strode out on her long legs leaving Robin and Hilda alone in the office.
"Some people could improve on their communication skills," said Hilda.
Robin smiled. "Britta is Britta. Nothing we can do about it."
"Are you finished for the day? I can escort you back to your rooms."
"No boys tonight?" asked Robin as she turned off her terminal.
"The master has them on a project."
Robin looked sharply at Hilda. "He's here?"
"A few minutes ago. I expect that he'll want to see you tomorrow," said Hilda. "You should get some rest."
"I should. You're right." Robin held her notebook in her hand. "Let's go." She waited for few tense seconds for Hilda to say that she was not allowed to carry anything back to her quarters but Hilda said nothing. Robin took that as a good sign.
On the way, Robin paused at the doorway to the outer office.
"Oh, I forgot to tell Greta about the new test procedure. Can you wait here while I leave her a note?" asked Robin in an even a tone as she could manage. She could not let her nerves get the better of her now. It was vital that she get to Britta's desk somehow.
"We should go straight to-"
"One minute. I don't want to get lectured again tomorrow about not letting her know things in advance," said Robin. "If I HAD a terminal in my quarters, I could just send her an email but I can't." Robin held her breath awaiting Hilda's decision. She hoped appealing to the older woman's sense of guilt would do the trick.
"All right two minutes and that's all," said Hilda.
Robin dashed to Britta's desk. She knew what she wanted and where it was but she had to be convincing. Britta's desk was of an older type. All steel with lots of drawers that had no locks. "I need a pen or a pencil." Robin opened two drawers before slowly inching open the center drawer. She nearly yelped in relief when she spotted the white and red pass card placed exactly where Britta always put it. Robin pulled out one pen with a flourish while her other hand reached in for the pass card. She closed the drawers then scribbled on a random note on a small pad. "Okay, I'm done." She pocketed the pass card and went to join Hilda.
Robin's mind whirled with suppressed panic as she walked beside Hilda down the underground tunnel towards the building housing her quarters. She paid little attention to Hilda's conversation.
Halfway down the tunnel, Robin spied Greta standing by the now open steel door. Greta was bundled against the cold obviously on her way out and home. Robin stuffed her free hand into her pocket. She forced herself to walk forward despite the urge to run to the door and escape. It was the wrong time. There would be guards on the watch. She had to find another way.
Her last escape attempt had failed because of her impulsiveness. She had escaped but could not get very far due to physical weakness and lack of her medication. As she had stewed in solitary confinement for a month after her capture, she had promised herself that she would be prepared the next time. She had spent years preparing the way. How could she squander all her sacrifice and effort for a single minute's inattention and impatience?
Robin looked down on the floor appearing to onlookers as if unaware of the brisk outside air chilling her face as she passed the wide open door. She neither hurried or slowed her pace. She was in control and she would pick the time of her escape. She would be free on her terms and her terms only.