e closed his eyes and fell into his father’s memories.
The motion of his father’s step was strange, moving up the stairwell. He attempted to move, but was unable to do so. He felt the vague disorienting panic that came from feeling the movements of another person but being unable to control their emotions.
His chest felt sore, as though he had recently worked out, and he could feel the strength in his arms. He looked up into a bathroom mirror and saw that he was wearing a tan sweater with a white clerical collar. He finished drying his hands, threw away the paper towel, and pushed open the door. He came out into a stone hallway filled with people, most of them dressed in light blue pants with light blue V-neck shirts.
“Sup, Rev.” An enormous black man tilted his head toward him. His face was respectfully grave. His head did not look like it could move much more than a respectful tilt’s distance on his massive neck. He was dressed in a light blue V-neck with grey pants. Isaac tried to glance past the big man, forgetting that his eyes were not his to control. Past him were other men, all with taut muscles and cynical eyes. An institution of some kind? A woman in uniform came out of a doorway, handcuffs and a gun dangling from her waist.
“Sup Scott,” she said.
“Sup Mel, how’s Greens doin’?”
“He’ll be fine, unless the Butcher fucks him up like he did Crow.”
“Ha, you won’t ever let the doc live that one down, will you?” he said.
Mel shrugged. “You know the only reason he’s here is cause of that bottle.”
“Maybe. I’m going in to see him.”
“Suit yourself. You know he had it comin’,” she said.
“Nobody deserves a shank in the stomach,” said Scott.
Mel’s laugh was a bark. “I just said he had it comin’. I didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout no deserts. That’s just the fact. As soon as you boot it up, they get the shank. The on/off switch is the best thing that ever happened around here. No riots, nothin’. Just flip the switch and they’re out cold. But this shit about getting in their minds, nobody likes it. Sucks to be on the bleeding edge, don’t it?” She smiled with her mouth while her eyes stayed cruel.
“Let me tell you something.” Scott stepped closer until he was right up in her face. Isaac felt his father’s mind flash an image of him shoving her up against the wall and pressing her nightstick against her throat. He felt his father ask the Mind to calm him, and felt the response with a flush of relief.
“Interesting,” Isaac thought. “Voluntary.”
“I hope you’re doing everything in your power to protect them. Because this program is nation-wide, and if this prison doesn’t have good numbers…” He put his finger in front of her nose as if to caution her. “They’ll hook your mindscreen up to your limbic system and run the truth program. If they don’t like what they find…”
“Last time I checked, this was a free country, ‘Rev’. That’s for a judge to say. I haven’t committed any crime, unlike these jokers you’ve got your Mind-reading program in. You think a judge will believe them? How many of these guards here got your back you think? I’ll do my job and that’s it. Your freaks can look after themselves, same as anybody else. It’s their choice: they either win your little lottery and they get out, or they survive in here with their snitch chip. If you ask me, it ain’t worth it. The gangs all know who runs the program, and as soon as they get the chance…”
She slid her finger across her throat. A chill went through him. “You know the Mind can’t switch them killers off fast enough. Either we keep them in the boot, or they get the shank. It don’t do nothin’ but stir things up.”
His emotions were tight and controlled. “Look Mel, this is the cutting edge of prison reform. Five percent of our population is in prison right now, higher than all recorded history. No one will hire them when they get out. There are riots in the food deserts, and the autonomous Amazon region is in open revolt. The gangs control the ghettos and they know the Mind could break their power. With the limbic connection, we could end war forever, close the prisons and end crime.” His face was slightly flushed with excitement.
Mel looked at him for a long moment. “If I had my way all you mother-fucking liberals and dreamers’d be safe in the clink with the rest of the troublemakers. But I’ll do my job, mark my words. I will do my job…”
***
Suddenly, Mel’s face against the rough prison wall began to fade, all the color sucking out. Gray darkened to black, and Issac felt a surge of vertigo, as though in free fall from a great height. He felt himself gradually slowing and with a wet plop, the darkness resolved into the gray outlines of a room filled with men in chairs, all around him.