Date: Thu, 15 Apr 1999 22:30:33 -0600 (MDT) From: "Katherine R. Freymuth" Subject: Mirror - part 19 Message-ID: Quantum Leap Mirror of Deception by Katherine Freymuth and Gary Marsh Part 19 The machine wasn't very attractive but it was a piece of neuro-technological art. It was known as "the mind eraser", though it didn't actually erase minds. It was designed to send electrical impulses into certain areas of the brain, rerouting the brain's natural synapses and thus preventing the recovery of long-term memories. It also caused short-term memories to become discontented, jumbled - Swiss-cheesed. The result was a long-lasting form of amnesia. In addition, the machine left its victim open to suggestion, depending on how long the victim was subjected to it. Al wasn't certain how long he had been the machine's victim. It could have been hours or it could have been days; Al had no sense of time anymore to be able to tell. Regardless of how long he had the misfortune of being tortured by the machine, he could definitely feel the effects that the horrible device had on him. His head still pounded from his latest session - again, he couldn't tell how many sessions he had undergone - and, no matter how much he tried, he was having great difficulty in remembering anything good in his life. He remember he knew good people for whom he cared and who cared for him. But every time he tried to remember faces and names, his mind brought up only the worst people in his life: Commander Riker, who continually busted on Al because the young ensign didn't follow the crowd; Captain Hui Cho, the Vietcong commanding officer of the POW camp in which Al the lieutenant was kept; and, of course, Zoe, his current imprisoner. The forcible amnesia was worse, in Al's view, than the pain. He could handle pain; he had before. But to know he had friends and not to remember them was true torture. He lay on his side and involuntarily shook slightly from the great physical and emotional pain. *If only I had a hair pin or such, I could be out of here in no time. I could easily pick these handcuffs and shackles.* He heard the door opening followed by the short sorrowful gasp. He then heard someone approaching him quickly before kneeling closer to him. "Al?" a voice said quietly. A hand touched his rumpled hair. Al tried to pull away and succeeded in having the hand removed. "What the hell do you want?" he said in a dangerously low voice. "Have you come to watch me suffer?" Cathy closed her eyes at Al's hostility. She slowly opened her eyes and looked at Al with sympathy. "No. Of course not." She gently moved closer to Al, taking Al's head into her lap despite his weak resistance to her actions. "It's okay," she assured. "I won't hurt you." Al gave a quiet, painful, sarcastic laugh. "Right. I heard that before," he whispered. She gently held his head still as she slowly removed the tape that covered Al's eyes. Al called out slightly at the pain the removal of the tape gave. "I'm sorry," Cathy whispered. Al huffed slightly before he slowly opened his eyes to finally see the hell in which he was a prisoner. The room was small, no larger that a small bedroom. It was filled with an eerie blood red lighting which Al found somehow worse than if it had been pitch black. It made the woman who looked down at him with concern somehow more menacing yet also more helpless. The two views contradicted each other, in Al's mind. He looked at his ex-lover with both hatred and confusion. Cathy didn't stop the tears that slowly trickled down her face. "I'm sorry, Al," she told him gently. "I had to do it. It was my job." Al glared at her. "I'm sure it was. You must really enjoy your work." Cathy touched Al's cheek gently. Al quickly pulled away from it. "I never wanted to bring you here. I had no choice." She hesitated. "I love you, Al. Please forgive me." Al lowered his eyelids with contempt. "Look at my face, my wrists, my ankles. Look at them and tell me you deserve forgiveness." Cathy turned her head in sorrow at Al's response but Al was unphased by her expression or actions. There was no pity in his heart for her. "Well, well, well," another voice said with amusement. "What have we here?" Cathy quickly but gently pulled away from Al and started towards the door. "Don't let her leave," Zoe ordered the two guards who entered the room with her. The guards blocked Cathy's exit, causing Cathy to turn towards Zoe with questioning and fear. Zoe took a couple of steps towards Al and looked down at him with a small huff. "Tell me, Catherine. What do you see in this man?" She turned to Cathy with raised eyebrows. "Is it his eyes? His lips? Tell me and I'll let you have them. The rest is mine, though." Cathy took a step towards Zoe while the guards took a step into the cell, allowing the door to close behind them. "Zoe, don't," she pleaded. "I'm the one at fault." Zoe looked at Cathy before giving her a slight evil smile. "How often have I warned you not to get emotionally involved with your recruits?" Cathy's eyes flared with hatred. She started for Zoe with determination but was halted by two firm hands as one of the guards grabbed her from behind and pulled her back. "You forget yourself, Catherine," Zoe told her before she looked at Al firmly. "Stand him up," she ordered to the other guard, who immediately obeyed the order. Al and Zoe looked at each other carefully, one with stoic reserve and the other with a malicious smile. "If you're going to do something to me, Zoe, do it," Al said in a low voice. Zoe laughed slightly, reaching into one of her jacket's pockets. She slowly took out a cigar, put it in Al's mouth, and lit it. "Relax, Admiral. If I wanted to kill you, I can think of more inventive means than a Chivello. It's your own cigar, straight from your own luggage." Al spat out the cigar, keeping a suspicious eye on the woman before him. Zoe laughed again. "How very typical," she commented before bending down and picking up the cigar. "Well, no sense in letting a good cigar go to waste." She placed the cigar between her lips and took a small puff before blowing smoke into Al's face. "Are you sure you don't want one?" Cathy looked at Zoe with pleading. "Zoe, don't do this," she begged, trying to pull away from the guard that held her. Zoe ignored Cathy's plea, looking into Al's eyes. Al lowered his eyelids at Zoe. "I'm seriously thinking of quitting." She slowly held her hand out towards the guard who kept Al on his feet. The guard reached into a sheath by his waist and removed a large knife. He placed the knife's handle into Zoe's hand. "Let me give you some incentive to do so then," Zoe said as she accepted the knife and displayed it for Al to see. The stoic expression on Al's face didn't change as Zoe slowly cut off Al's clothing, leaving him with little more than his underwear on. Cathy tugged with deep emotion against her guard's grip, having an idea of what Zoe was doing to Al. "There, that's better," she commented, returning the knife to the guard and looking carefully at Al. She puffed on the cigar and looked into Al's eyes. Only a trained observer like herself could see the humiliation in the Admiral's eyes. The sight caused her smile to widen. "Now I can see what you see in him, Catherine," she leered, still looking into Al's eyes. "He is rather impressive without the trappings of society, isn't he?" She finally looked at Cathy and smiled at the look of humiliation on her face. "Please, Zoe," Cathy pleaded quietly. "No farther. You've made your point." "Have I?" Zoe questioned. "Then you won't mind if I continue, will you?" Cathy closed her eyes and took a sorrowful breath. Zoe gave an amused huff before turning her attention back to Al. Slowly, she inhaled deeply on the cigar. She blew the resulting smoke into Al's face. Then, with a smile made from pure evil, she firmly pressed the end of the cigar into Al's shoulder. Al closed his eyes firmly and gritted his teeth in an attempt to prevent himself from screaming at the pain. However, despite his resolve, the weakness of his body gave into the pain. A small, agonized sound escaped Al's lips before Zoe removed the cigar's lit end from Al's shoulder. She regarded the Admiral with obvious glee at his pain as she replaced the cigar in her mouth and took a couple more breaths on it. She looked at Cathy and saw the narrow streaks of salt water that had begun to adorn her face. "Tears, Catherine?" she questioned the Irish woman. "Now, this goes beyond emotional involvement, doesn't it?" Cathy lurched towards her but was halted in her act when the guard roughly pulled her back. Zoe ignored Cathy's actions and looked at the guard holding Al. "You can let him go. I don't think he's much of a threat." The guard stepped away from Al and walked to the door to wait and watch. Al had trouble keeping his balance but nonetheless remained standing as Zoe encircled him with examining eyes. "Lovely collection of scars," she commented, tracing one of the many on his back. "The Vietcong must have really enjoyed you, much like I'm enjoying you now." She finished encircling him and looked down at his feet. "Missing two toes," she commented. She looked at his face. "Was it illness or torture?" Al took a deep breath but didn't answer. Zoe took another puff on the cigar and chose another area of target just below Al's right ribs. She repeated the actions several times and to several other areas of the body until the pain became far too great for her victim, forcing him first to his knees and then to the floor. Cathy followed suit with each scream that came from his lips, the screams becoming more horrible and more agonized with each burn inflicted upon him. When her violent urge was finally satisfied, Zoe looked at the shaking man at her feet and then at the weeping woman across the room. She looked at the later with slight disgust. "Get her out of here," she ordered. "Lock her in her quarters until I come for her." The guards forced Cathy onto her feet and dragged her out of the room as she glared at Zoe with intense hatred and sorrow. Zoe smiled with delight at Cathy's anger as she again looked down upon her victim. She slowly lowered herself so that she could clearly see Al's agonized face. "You know, it's sad but she really does love you." She paused. "On the other hand, it does give me the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone: hurt you and her at the same time." Al glared at her with fury in his weakening eyes. "Ah!" Zoe exclaimed. "I was hoping I could break that ever so stoic, heroic expression." She took a hard puff on the cigar before placing it in Al's back. The man screamed at the pain the action produced, giving Zoe great delight. "You know, you're not the first man - the first recruit - with whom Catherine has fallen in love. He wasn't as strong as you, though. By this time in his recruitment, he had died of a severe seizure caused by the machine. Apparently, his brain couldn't handle the stress the machine had placed on it." She smiled slightly. "Well, technically, the seizures didn't kill him. His mind had been turned into mush and Catherine was forced to kill him." She looked at Al with amusement. "We may be cruel to our recruits but we're not inhumane." Al had to give a small sarcastic laugh, even though it was excruciating to do so. "Not inhumane?" he whispered. "Is this what you call recruitment? Torturing and taking away memories?" He looked at Zoe with a frail frown. "What am I being recruited for?" Zoe gave him a small smile. "I'll let your imagination dwell on that. You think all of this was humiliating?" She took the cigar, took a puff, and placed it on the nape of Al's neck. The resulting scream was horrendous. She then looked at him firmly. "I've just started."