By Sang Freud
Note: This is the continuation of a story. To start at the very beginning, click for Part 00.
Tom was utterly dependent on the two orderlies as they led him out of the exam room and into the corridor. His eyes searched in vain for even the smallest bit of light or shadow in the VR helmet, and the straitjacket held his arms tight against his body. Somehow, though, the earplugs were the most terrifying. True to Brian’s word, Tom could hear absolutely nothing, not even his own blood circulating. He tried to ask Joe and Mike where they were taking him, but he didn’t even hear his own voice. Only a warning from the nerve interface told him that he had in fact made any noise at all.
When the helmet allowed his vision and hearing to return, Tom was standing in front of a solid panel of steel with a giant C painted on the door. No food slot, no observation window, not even a handle or a keyhole. Just an LCD timer and a red or green light indicating whether the cell was occupied. Like a bank vault, it was thick, heavy, and lined with an airtight gasket.