Part 21 - In the Desert
February 24th 2007 23:02
It’s hard to remember who you are when you’ve been deprived of water, food, sunlight and sleep. When you’re drawing what you expect will be your last breath you’ll say anything to get something to eat, something to drink and somewhere to rest, which is exactly why the Ministry doesn’t use these techniques when interrogating a prisoner. Technically Re wasn’t a prisoner, he hadn’t broken any laws, but it was a captor/captive situation all the same.
The Ministry’s techniques in interrogation were to be friendly, and polite and have lots of people in the interview room, turn the air-conditioning up so it’s a little warm and offer lots of fresh, cool water and plenty of food for everyone. When the moment came for the prisoner to use the toilet, they were escorted to a small room with the word “Toilet” on the door. Inside the room there was no toilet, no sink or even a drain. There was only a recording of someone having a long and satisfying pee and three of the walls of the room were glass, so you knew the interrogators could watch every move you made. It is surprising how someone desperate for a pee will tell you exactly what you need to know.
This technique didn’t have any affect on Re. He had been bundled into the lift then into the back of a truck and taken away from the Ministry’s secret headquarters. Surrounded by armed, uniformed men he lay on the floor of the truck as it bumped and trundled its way through the night and into the next day.
When the truck stopped and Re was allowed out it was night-time again.
No one had spoken to him; no one told him what was happening. The guards grunted at him and prodded him to walk in the right direction or to sit in the right spot.
From the truck he and his entourage entered a large building made mostly of corrugated iron. They entered a lift and were taken underground.
After a long walk through twisting hallways under dim emergency style lighting Re was brought to the door way that led him to the Interrogation Room.
He was given food, water and a comfortable chair. There were four men in the room, sitting with him at the same. None spoke. He at the food, it was delicious; he drank the drink and was refreshed.
“Excellent food,” he said through mouthfuls.
When there was no food or drink left, more was provided. Re drank and ate again, then again, then again.
Finally, after several hours, one of the men asked, “Don’t you need to pee?”
“No, I’m fine thanks,” said Re, who drank and ate some more.
Eventually the four men were replaced by four more men and a very comfortable camp bed was brought in, Re slept.
Some time later he awoke, and restarted the repetitive cycle of eating and drinking.
Re became bored with the ritual of food and sleep, food and sleep, “Can I go for a walk?”
One of the men jumped as if startled. “I’m sorry, did you say you want to go for a pee?”
“No, a walk.”
The man slumped back in his chair, “No walking.”
What the Ministry didn’t think of when they were devising their toilet torture was, if they were going to interrogate aliens (as was their sole purpose), then it might be likely that aliens don’t pee in the same way as humans, as was the case with Re.
Built into his jumpsuit was a small matter transmitter, at regular intervals in scanned his colon and bladder and transmitted any waste products from inside his body to the Beige Bummjob’s recycling units, thus as long as the matter transmitter worked, Re would never need to use a bathroom. Of course no system is perfect, and there are two reasons why this system was destined to make for unpleasantness for Re.
First, the transmitter had a limited range, only large enough to take care of Re’s excrement as long as he was in the ship or no more than a few kilometres away from it. When Re became too far from the ship the transmitter was programmed to find a quiet place to deposit the wastes that would be out of sight and smell, say, a handy close by room that no one actually seems to have a need to use.
Second, the transmitter wasn’t going to last for ever, the same corrosive substances that disintegrated Re’s oxygen pipe on his space suit 2000 years before were going to cause the transmitter to send out it’s failure warning stop working for ever.
About 6 days after being captured by the Ministry, Re sat at the table sipping water. There was a very loud Ping! Oblivious to the meaning of the sound he finished his drink and turned to his lunch. An unusual grumbling started in his tummy.
The Ministry’s techniques in interrogation were to be friendly, and polite and have lots of people in the interview room, turn the air-conditioning up so it’s a little warm and offer lots of fresh, cool water and plenty of food for everyone. When the moment came for the prisoner to use the toilet, they were escorted to a small room with the word “Toilet” on the door. Inside the room there was no toilet, no sink or even a drain. There was only a recording of someone having a long and satisfying pee and three of the walls of the room were glass, so you knew the interrogators could watch every move you made. It is surprising how someone desperate for a pee will tell you exactly what you need to know.
This technique didn’t have any affect on Re. He had been bundled into the lift then into the back of a truck and taken away from the Ministry’s secret headquarters. Surrounded by armed, uniformed men he lay on the floor of the truck as it bumped and trundled its way through the night and into the next day.
When the truck stopped and Re was allowed out it was night-time again.
No one had spoken to him; no one told him what was happening. The guards grunted at him and prodded him to walk in the right direction or to sit in the right spot.
From the truck he and his entourage entered a large building made mostly of corrugated iron. They entered a lift and were taken underground.
After a long walk through twisting hallways under dim emergency style lighting Re was brought to the door way that led him to the Interrogation Room.
He was given food, water and a comfortable chair. There were four men in the room, sitting with him at the same. None spoke. He at the food, it was delicious; he drank the drink and was refreshed.
“Excellent food,” he said through mouthfuls.
When there was no food or drink left, more was provided. Re drank and ate again, then again, then again.
Finally, after several hours, one of the men asked, “Don’t you need to pee?”
“No, I’m fine thanks,” said Re, who drank and ate some more.
Eventually the four men were replaced by four more men and a very comfortable camp bed was brought in, Re slept.
Some time later he awoke, and restarted the repetitive cycle of eating and drinking.
Re became bored with the ritual of food and sleep, food and sleep, “Can I go for a walk?”
One of the men jumped as if startled. “I’m sorry, did you say you want to go for a pee?”
“No, a walk.”
The man slumped back in his chair, “No walking.”
What the Ministry didn’t think of when they were devising their toilet torture was, if they were going to interrogate aliens (as was their sole purpose), then it might be likely that aliens don’t pee in the same way as humans, as was the case with Re.
Built into his jumpsuit was a small matter transmitter, at regular intervals in scanned his colon and bladder and transmitted any waste products from inside his body to the Beige Bummjob’s recycling units, thus as long as the matter transmitter worked, Re would never need to use a bathroom. Of course no system is perfect, and there are two reasons why this system was destined to make for unpleasantness for Re.
First, the transmitter had a limited range, only large enough to take care of Re’s excrement as long as he was in the ship or no more than a few kilometres away from it. When Re became too far from the ship the transmitter was programmed to find a quiet place to deposit the wastes that would be out of sight and smell, say, a handy close by room that no one actually seems to have a need to use.
Second, the transmitter wasn’t going to last for ever, the same corrosive substances that disintegrated Re’s oxygen pipe on his space suit 2000 years before were going to cause the transmitter to send out it’s failure warning stop working for ever.
About 6 days after being captured by the Ministry, Re sat at the table sipping water. There was a very loud Ping! Oblivious to the meaning of the sound he finished his drink and turned to his lunch. An unusual grumbling started in his tummy.
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