chapter two

'Good morning, Mr. Summers. I'm Dr. Moscoe.'

Fordo had spent his first sleepless night with the Uracilians. Today, he was to receive his first bout of preliminary treatment. Rebecca had woken him at six in the morning, peppily stating he was to shower, dress, eat and then report to room 787. In that order. He quietly retaliated by eating before he showered and dressing on his way to 787. Random spurts of insolence do the soul some good.

Dr. Moscoe was smiling at Fordo, holding out his hand to him. He was wearing a crisp, white shirt and green tie under a white lab coat. Fordo saw by the door a black suit jacket. Men in black suits were not to be trusted. That was what Cosmo had said.

'You are Mr. Summers, are you not?' Fordo nodded. 'Excellent! Have a seat, please.' Moscoe walked behind the large, wooden desk, gesturing to a pair of seats before it for Fordo. Fordo sat hesitantly, being careful to watch his doctor the whole while. 'I spoke with your parents yesterday.'

'So?'

'They seemed worried. Should they be?'

'You tell me.' It was hard for Fordo not to care about his parents. Yet he understood how important it was to never give anything away. Cosmo said that, too.

Moscoe leaned forward. 'I understand how hard this must be for you, Mr. Summers.'

'I greatly doubt that.'

'But we can't help you if you don't help us.'

'I don't need any help.'

The man laughed, weasel-like. 'I'm afraid you are quite mistaken, my friend.'

'What makes you say that?' A fit of fear came over Fordo that he quickly stiffled. Moscoe was bluffing. He had to be.

He got up and walked around the desk to Fordo. 'I know what's wrong with you, Fordo Summers. I'm the only person in the whole world who does.'

'Did you tell my parents that?'

He smiled cruelly. 'Now if I did that, how would I be able to study you?' He turned and went back behind the desk. 'This isn't your average hospital, Summers. This is a research facility.'

'And I'm a lab rat, eh?'

'I prefer the term "experimental specimen". It always sounded a bit more dignified, don't you agree?'

'I don't give a damn about your bleedin' dignity.'

'Language, Summers! I don't know how you were raised, but the Uracilians demand respect for all those present at the Centre.'

'It's not respect when it's forced.'

'I greatly disagree.'

'Then you're regecting truth!'

The two sat glaring at one another for quite some time. The only noise in the room was the giant hum of an overly apparent fly. Its noise had tripled in the moment of silence between the two. Then Moscoe laughed again, that cold, weasley laugh. 'You're one of those Cosmo students, aren't you?'

'What?'

'Professor Schneider? The People's Anarchist? Surely you've heard of him!'

'Never,' Fordo lied. 'Who is he?'

'No one of consequence.' His reply was too swift. 'Never mind.' He looked at the clock. 'Very well then. I want you to take these.' He pushed an orange pill bottle towards Fordo. 'The instructions are on the bottle, no thought required. And please eat ALL of your lunch today. No need to waste good food and needed energy. I'll see you tomorrow. Same time, same place. You are excused, Mr. Summers.'

Fordo left quickly, his hatred for this man brewing in his veins. When he had returned to his room, he went into the water closet and flushed his first two pills down the lou.