PAST LIFE
Copyright (c) Rick Yost

I am falling down a spiral staircase. I am bouncing and bumping down this well-like enclosure, hitting every short, hard, concrete, wedge-shaped step as I go. The circular brick wall of this tube-like structure is smooth and glossy white with years of coats of paint.
The stair risers far out-measure the treads which makes for a very steep and swift descent. The lighting is dim but every twenty or so steps I pass I can see the jarring blur of a single light on the wall. With my bare arms out in front of me I try to keep my face from being beaten by the abusive, bruising stairs; like a playing card in the spokes of a bicycle wheel. My hands, forearms and elbows are covered in blood and I can feel bare bone strike the concrete. I've not felt such pain before. The fear of letting my head hit the stairs, rendering me unconscious or worse, keeps my hands straight out in front of me. My eyes are terror-stricken, wide-open, imagining my chin, jaw and teeth, shattered and strewn down this monster length of painfully hard indifference. Gravity, whom once I considered my ally, had now become my foe.
I don't know if my difficulty in breathing is from my intense fear or the broken ribs I surely have. Through my jeans I feel my legs dutifully bouncing behind me like so many tin cans tied behind a newlywed couple's carriage. My left kneecap is most likely shattered. My whole body is in excruciating pain. But I have not the luxury of pausing to properly enjoy the hurt. I'm engrossed in my trek down this seemingly never-ending maelstrom of torture. I feel nothing but fear and concrete. I hear nothing but my own rapid heartbeat and my cries of agony and moans of despair.
I don't know how I came to be in this circumstance or how long I've been enduring same. But I feel confident if I don't either manage to stop my ride by catching and sustaining grip on a step or finally reaching the bottom I will very soon collapse from exhaustion and turn into a bloody ball of flesh and bone, bouncing to my death.
No sooner did I finish that last thought then I did reach the bottom of the staircase and my battered body rolled and flopped to a rest. I lie there for an undetermined time.
I must have passed out, but for how long? I have no perception of time passing; only the physical desire to be still and let as much hurt and ache go away as possible.
As I start to straighten my form back to some measure of normalcy I am able to slowly assess the damage done to my limbs. My left knee and lower leg are surely shattered and broken in several places. I reach as I lay on my side and try to twist my leg back to it's intended position. I hear the crackle of broken bone, feel a surge of intense pain and pass out once more.
I wake after what must have been several hours of much needed sleep. I am still tearing and weeping from the pain but I do feel the benefits from my forced respite.
Turning my attention away from my body and to my surroundings, I try to determine where I have wound up after my fall. The base of the staircase opened into a slightly larger room, maybe ten foot square, with no other apparent door or entry. I realize that my escape from this dungeon of sorts, may be to drag myself back up the blood-streaked, cold, hard stairs. Taking a moment to scan the room again, I do see what might be another exit. In the middle of the floor there is what appears to be a three-foot square trap door. But I can see no handle or knob with which to raise it.
By this time I have turned myself around and with my back leaned against the wall I now face the center of the room, with my two lifeless and aching legs stretched out in front of me.
The stillness of the moment and silence of the room are suddenly changed by a loud and echoing thud against the underside of the trap door. It startles and chills me very still.
A different kind of fright now fills my center and forces my eyes wide open. My sense of hearing is now turned up to it's highest sensitivity. Then, I hear another thump and a scrape. I run through every sound I have ever heard trying desperately to identify what that scrape could have been. Reluctantly, I concede to myself, that I cannot think of what might be moving around under this door. My imagination, no matter how I try to contain it's powers, takes me on a wild, mental, kaleidoscopic-ride of different, horrible possibilities.
Suddenly I hear a sound that is not mistakable. It is the sound of a large dead bolt being shoved through it's chase unlocking the door.
I am given no time to digest the information this frightening sound conveys to me. Within seconds the door is struck by someone or something quite strong or quite heavy and the weighty, ancient, wooden door swings all the way open. To my shock and dismay I see it is hinged on my side of the door and I've no time to move.
The last thing I remember is the door crashing down upon my broken leg.

I wake with my head swimming like I have been drugged. I open my eyes to see I am no longer lying on the dungeon room floor. Where I am now I cannot say. I feel no more of the intense pain of my leg. I raise my head from the massive, white overstuffed pillow it's buried in to look at my limbs. I find to my shocking surprise, not only am I naked on a huge round, white bed, but there is a young, naked woman on the bed with me. She has her mouth around my erected penis and is swiftly moving up and down on it with considerable pressure. Still feeling like I have been given a narcotic I strain to raise my upper body and speak, but I cannot. I open my mouth and try to verbalize my shock and astonishment, but I can make no sound. I am very dizzy and weak and I collapse back onto the pillow. My neck is stiff as if I have been in bed for weeks. I can't move my arms or my legs. I try to will my muscles move, but it is as though they are detached from my mind completely. I'm starting to panic at my helpless state. I try desperately to move my legs to get the young woman's attention, to no avail. I lie helpless; apparently being accosted against my will.
I try to remember how I came to be here. Do I know this woman; are we lovers? I certainly don't recognize her naked body or what part of her young face I can see through the bangs of bright red hair. I just lie there. The fear of my unknown situation bars me from enjoying her activity. All I can do is watch.
She sits between my wide spread legs, leaning over me with her legs folded beneath her.
She has one hand on my thigh and her other rapped around my erection. As her tightly closed mouth slides up and down, so does her grip.
I am being raped and I cannot control my muscle's response to this action. The muscles in my lower abdomen and buttocks begin to flex and tighten. I ejaculate. As all the nerves in my groin are set afire, she torturously continues. I try to scream but can't. She finally stops. She raises up to sit back on her heels. Still holding onto my now relaxing muscle, she brushes the hair from her face and wipes her mouth with a slow drag of the back of her hand. She opens her eyes to look me in the face. A chill of terror runs through me as I gaze into her eyes. They have no pupils. The entirety of her eyeballs are a bright, emerald green. I start to shake with fear. She smiled without opening her lips, released her grip on me and slowly, gracefully, climbed off the edge of the bed and walked out of my line of sight, around towards the head of the bed. There are several, large white pillows, laid upon one another, supporting the huge one under my head, making it impossible for me to see a third of the room behind me. I then heard what might have been a door. I'm not sure.
That woman's eyes! They were an un-nerving sight.
Now that she had disappeared, I was able to calm down and stop my fearful shaking.
Still very afraid, still unable to move, I started looking around the room.
It was a beautiful circular glass room, the entire circumference of which consisted of eight foot high, glass, casement windows. The casements were three feet wide and every third one was wide open, allowing the most wonderful, aromatic and warm breeze to blow though the room and across the bed. The ceiling of this magnificent chamber was a glass dome.
This big circular bed I lay upon seemed to be the only thing in the room. To my best judgment the bed measured ten feet in diameter. If the entire room matched the part of the room I could see, then the room was only a few feet larger than the bed.
Everything was white. The bedcovers, pillows and even the trim around the windows were all white.
The view out of the windows was spectacular.
I seemed to be atop a mountain. All I could see outside the windows was an immense blanket of clouds which stretched to the horizon in all directions. And just behind the clouds was the most beautiful sunset I've ever seen. I couldn't stop staring out the windows. I was awe struck with the beauty of it all.
As I marveled at the striking view; questions rolled around in my drugged mind.
"Where was this place? How did I get here? Why can't I move? Why am I naked in this bed and who was that woman? Why was she doing that to me and what the hell was wrong with her eyes?"
Before I could put any useful thought towards these questions; I heard the sound of someone else in the room. My eyes opened wide in fear. I tried to crane my neck to look over the pillow behind me. Then I see two more naked women have entered the room and walk gracefully around to the foot of the bed. I notice they carry trays of what looked to be food and water.
The next thing I noticed was their hair. The woman on the left had bright green hair. The woman on the right had hair of yellow (not blonde) yellow. Both styled in the same fashion as the redhead: very short around the back and sides becoming progressively longer towards the front turning into bangs that hung down in their faces. Like the redhead, they are thin with small, well-shaped breasts and curvaceous rumps.
With heads bowed, they stand side by side at the edge of the bed holding their trays like well trained waitresses. Then they climbed upon the bed, still holding the trays and crawled on their knees towards me.
It was at this point I could see they too had the eerie eyes. The Green haired one had eyes of bright red and the yellow haired had eyes of blue. These were still like the redheads eyes, brightly colored orbs in their sockets. Although this was un-nerving to see I felt no real menace in their eyes. They both had a very soft and quiet manner to them that helped put me at ease. They were so quiet in fact, I had yet to hear them make a sound.
As they reached me on the bed, they set the trays of food aside.
The yellow haired one threw her leg over my belly, facing me, and straddled my torso. Although she sat on my lower belly, I felt only the slightest pressure. She looked directly at me and smiled gently. I felt a twinge of embarrassment as her naked form filled my view. She slowly leaned forward, put her soft warm hands behind my shoulders and pulled my head and upper body forward. Then the Green haired one placed another thick, firm pillow behind my back allowing me to sit up. It felt good to do so. I felt I had been lying for a long time.
The yellow haired one reached for one of the trays and brought it closer. Green hair crawls back to the foot of the bed out of my view.
Y Yellow hair chooses a small handful of green grapes and nuts and begins to feed me. The grapes are delicious. The nuts, I do not recognize, but they too have a marvelous flavor.
I soon find I am less concerned with strange colored eyes and more intent on eating. I realize, just how very hungry I am.
Soon after the feeding begins I feel my legs being moved. I realize there are areas of my feet and legs I can feel. I have the sensation of warm oil being poured onto them.
Not being able to see, this does put an expression of concern on my face. Yellow recognizes this and smiles, showing for the first time a sparkling set of perfect teeth. She then puts another plump grape to my lips.
The oil is now being massaged into the skin of my feet and legs by a pair of unseen hands. This gives me a pleasant sensation all through my body.
The feeding continues, with respites to sip of the beverage, which turns out to be a slight flavored wine. Although I still feel at the mercy of these two strangers who are taking liberties with my body, I can't help but feel extremely comfortable.
The bed is comfortable, the food is delicious and the massage helps my legs feel less detached. The view directly in front of me and outside the windows are both what any man would consider exquisite.
The feeding and the massage continue for some time. Oil is now poured on my upper thighs, where I find I can feel more sensation. The last morsels of food are gently placed in my mouth. Yellow uses a small linen napkin to wipe my mouth.
After slowly working up the length of my legs, I feel Green's warm, tireless hands raise my half erect penis and pour the warm oil on my testicles. She begins to gently squeeze and massage them which is very exhilarating and sexually stimulating.
I find now I have only fleeting moments of concern over my helpless situation.
The stimulation and sensations I feel, coupled with my full belly, are both relaxing and exciting me at the same time. If they meant to harm me, it could have been done already.
From the tray that held the food and wine, Yellow picks up a tiny, glass cup. She dips her middle finger into the clear liquid. She then opens her mouth and shows me her pink tongue, obviously requesting me to do the same. Hesitating only a second, I let go of my suspicions and do as I am asked. She places the end of her finger in my mouth and rubs the top of my tongue. I am instantly stoned. I feel a rush of warmth flood my mind and body. It has a bittersweet taste to it that reminds me of cashews. This is the drug that keeps me in this bed. I am very high, relaxed and ready to giggle. She pulls her finger from my mouth, raises her eyebrows and smiles.
Green hands Yellow the oil and she pours it over my chest and begins to massage my upper body and arms. She does this for several moments while the warm and slippery hands of Green, whom I still cannot see, continue to massage my balls. My penis is fully erect now, though it is being paid no attention by either woman.
Yellow places her hands on my head, which I realize has been shaved. She begins to massage my smooth cranium with the oil.
This gives me another reason to wonder what this is all about. Who are these lovely creatures and why do they pamper me so? This too is a fleeting concern as I am relaxed further by the massage of both my hairless head and my testicles. I slowly close my tired eyes. I feel my head swim and I catch the faint sense of hallucination with no real shape or form.
I lay there in complete and utter submission to all of the attention my body is receiving.
Then the massaging stops. I open my eyes to see, both women gathering the trays and gracefully crawling off the bed. They both turn to look my way as they leave and smile. I must admit I am disappointed at their leaving.
I see now the sun has completely dropped behind the clouds and the sky is turning to a light blue gray color. The evening grows and faint stars are now visible.
As I lay there in this strange, drugged state, I stare up into the sky and once again try to put together my questions. But I find they are more difficult to bring together now. I am helplessly stoned to the point of not being able to think properly. I glance down at my erection, standing straight up in the warm breeze and I laugh.
Still giggling, I hear someone enter the room. I have to close my eyes from my dizziness. I open them again to see another naked woman, standing at my feet. This one has jet black hair and jet black eyes. I chuckle slightly as I realize that except for the different hair and eye color, I couldn't tell these beauties apart in the dark. Their faces and physical appearance are just alike.
She crawls onto the bed and approaches me. She smiles at me in a devilish fashion and then abruptly puts her mouth around my erection. She slowly sucks and massages my penis with her lips and tongue. This she does for only a moment. Then she removes her mouth and climbs on top of me. With her folded legs on either side of me, she inserts my erection in her and sits down. With her warm soft hands on my chest, she leans towards my face and puts her lips on mine. With gentle but deliberate pressure, she slides her tongue into my mouth. As we kiss, she starts to slide her warm, wet self up and down on my erection and my head swims. I have not felt this wonderful sensation in what I realize is too long a time.
She leans back and continues to move up and down.
It is at this point, that I notice the only difference I have seen in any of the women.
This Black haired one has a small, brown mole near her cleavage on her left breast.
She is tireless in her endeavor and for what seems an endless time, she continues with her movements. I now hear her labored breathing, which is the only sound I've heard any of them make. Then, the sensation became too intense and I exploded inside her. Unlike my earlier orgasm with the redhead, when I was too concerned to enjoy it, this time I let go of my uneasiness and embraced this woman's lovemaking.
She soon became still and slowly raised herself off of me. She kissed me once again on the mouth, leaned back, smiled and crawled off the bed. My eyes closed as she walked away and disappeared into this strange but sensual night.
Here above the clouds, in my glass room of sex and opiate and grapes. It was now dark and I fell into a deep sleep.

I would soon discover, that the events that played out in my glass room, that first day I awoke, would be repeated for the next five days. The only changes made to the process, were the roles the different women played.
Each different woman, with different colored hair would have a stint at each different role. The second night, Yellow came to me first, as did Red the first night. Then Red sat on my belly and fed me grapes and my drug, while Black massaged my testicles. And that second night finished up with Green, riding me to a frenzy, then leaving me to sleep.
Here I noticed another difference between Black and the others. She was the only one to kiss me before leaving me to sleep.
Each night they would interchange their chores but the program remained the same. However on day six there was a substitution of a color.
On the sixth day I was fed by a woman with blue hair and totally white eyes that I'd not seen before. And at the end of the meal she administered no drug to me.
Unable to speak or move, I could not ask why.
I would find out why in the morning.
But before morning arrived, I didn't sleep as deeply as the nights before, presumably from the lack of the narcotic.

No more dreams; no more sleep.
Morning has arrived and I feel the difference without the drug. I can feel, that is the difference. I am sore all over. My legs ache as do my arms and my ribs. Not to mention the hangover feeling in my head. But I can move. I can move as freely as the pain will allow.
I have awakened in the bed as usual but I am fully clothed. I have been adorned with what appear to be garments of a man made fabric which feel soft, but appear sturdy. Both the shirt and trousers are white and tailored well, though the style is unfamiliar. The tan, soft leather shoes on my feet are really more like slippers, but they fit well and are comfortable. After who knows how long, I've been naked in this bed. It feels good to be in clothing again.
I proceed at my first attempt to crawl off the bed. I am very stiff. I reach the edge of the bed and sit there for a moment letting my head adjust to the unfamiliar altitude. As I rub the back of my neck with my hands I also feel of the stubble of hair growing back on my head.
I sit there trying to get used to my body again. I happen to glance out the window in front of me. I can see much more of the sky around me than when I was lying on the bed. I am astonished at what I see.
I see a short distance away another room like mine. I'm not on the top of a mountain as I had thought before, but the room is set atop a golden pole. I slowly stood up and took in the entire vista before me. I could now see a whole field of rooms. Set at distances of maybe forty feet apart at varying heights. Now that I was able to view the entire room I could see things I could not see while in bed. There was a door and what appeared to be storage space. Outside the glass dome I saw many more rooms which sit higher than mine. I was in the middle of an entire field of rooms. They looked like huge mushrooms in the sky reflecting the sunlight off their glass components.
The rooms were white framed, clear glass structures appearing to be thirty feet in diameter. The shiny, gold colored poles supporting the rooms were approximately ten feet in diameter and must have stretched for miles down through the clouds to the planet's surface.
That last thought;"Planet's surface" gave me an uneasy cause feeling. For the life of me, I could not remember the name of the planet. Wasn't this my home world? Wasn't this where I had always lived? Wasn't this….? It was just not there. The word for it, the name of it, just was not there.
This in due course, led to me trying in vain to remember other things; like my name, where I lived, who I was. None of these things would solidify in my mind. I sat back down on the bed and tried to concentrate on these new and frightening questions. Like trying to make one's muscles work hard enough to move something immovable. I tried to will my memory into to functioning. I soon developed a severe throbbing pain in my head. I fell back to lie on the bed with my legs hanging over the edge.
I only laid there for a few minutes when I suddenly felt the sensation of moving. I opened my eyes and looked out the windows to see the room was falling. This sight startled me. I took a moment to catch my breath. The entire glass chamber was descending very rapidly. Feeling that this must be the proper function of the room I tried to ease my fear. I was actually looking forward to maybe finding someone on the ground that might tell me what was going on.
The windows were all closed. They had probably been closed during the night and I had not noticed. I stood next to the glass watching the other rooms from beneath become further away as I descended. I had the opportunity to marvel one more time at the sight of the hundreds of tall structures in the sunlit sky. I closed my eyes and let the suns rays warm my face. This was something I would not experience for some time to come.
The sun and the rooms above me vanished from my view as the falling chamber entered the clouds. I saw nothing outside my windows but dark gray.
Water vapor soon covered the outside of the glass in the form of small rain droplets. They would curiously run up the pane as raindrops on the windshield of a moving car.
I watched with childlike fascination as the force of the wind currents whipped the rain into a swirling eddy at the top of the dome over my head.
It took only five minutes or so before the room had reached the bottom of the clouds. The rain was now quite heavy. But now I was able to see the ground. What I saw before me was a huge, modern city of lights spread out in all directions. The view below the rain clouds was a very dreary gray color. Every structure and building I saw in my scan of the city looked gray in color.
I marveled at all of the lights of the city. Most of the lights are white, but I could see lights of red, yellow and green. This brought to mind the beauties who pampered me here in my room. I wondered if I would see them again. I felt certain I would miss their affectionate attention. I was still thinking of the Black haired one.
I felt a slight, smooth sensation as the room slowed it's descent. I was now no more than a few hundred feet from the ground. I continued my gaze out the windows. I was able to see the forest of stems of the other rooms still elevated above the clouds. They no longer had their shiny gold color. Here with the rain and fog and the absence of sunlight they were a dingy, light brown.
I then saw one of the rooms going up. It had not caught my attention until it was almost level with my own. I wondered who was in it. I wondered what they would experience while up there.
I felt the room shudder and to a very slow speed. This close to the ground I could see hundreds of other rooms nestled on the ground in rows. There were voids in some of the rows where the rooms were above.
I felt a pain in my left knee. I leaned to rub it with my hand and wondered how it was repaired? I then wondered how long I had been recuperating, which was the only reason that made sense for my being here. I had more questions for whomever I met on the ground than I could remember. Then the uneasy thought came back that there were so many things I should remember but didn't.

The room finally came to a gentle stop; or at least the dome and windowed walls detached from the floor at a point and stopped. The floor and bed and I continued down another level, then bottomed out.
After a moment the sound of air pressure being quickly released was heard and a large door in the new solid walls around me opened up. Bright fluorescent light from the hallway flooded the room. The silence I had been engulfed in for so long was quickly changed to the sounds of many conversations, people walking back and forth, and the electronic beeps and tones of phones and medical equipment.
A tall young man in a white, medical scrub-suit steps into the room. "How are you feeling sir?" he abruptly asks, never looking at me. He is a healthy looking man; I'd say ten years my junior. He has a small communication device clipped to his collar and a nametag on his chest: WILLIS H. COPELAND, M.D. Apparently in the middle of a busy shift, he seems to be making notes of the last patient he'd visited on his small, electronic clipboard.
"Have you been spoken to by a doctor?" as he finished this question he looked at me.
I replied, "No, I've not spoken to anyone and I'm more than a little pissed about it. What kind of place is this anyway?"
As I voiced my indignation he replaced the pen to his board and closed the cover. From his body language I could tell he was in no mood for my attitude. He spoke very matter-of-factly,"This is a high-security, FEDERATED TERRITORIES military, medical facility." He places his hands on his hips and takes a very defiant stance before me. "I'm sorry if you feel your care or treatment while you've been here has not been what you desired but you know there is a war on and we are rather busy with wounded troops."
It was obviously not going to do me any good to give him a hard time. I decided on a better approach. If I planned on getting any answers I would need to take the "patient" approach.
I put my hand over my forehead and sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry sir. I just can't seem to be able to put certain things together in my mind. I'm not sure I'm not still under the influence of your drugs!" I tried to sound as pathetic as I could. It seemed to be working.
He immediately sat down beside me, flipped open his clipboard and switched it on. "Okay, let's see what we've got here. Well sir, it shows here that our programmed nurses stopped administering Kochol as a pain killer last night. Are you able to feel your limbs okay?" He was now in a completely different mood and seemed quite attentive to my concerns, which I really did appreciate. He patiently waited for my reply. "Programmed nurses?" I asked with a tone of confusion. "Those women up there were your nurses?" I'm sure I sounded appalled as I looked him in the face.
He smiled, seemed a bit embarrassed, then spoke gently,"Well, yes! When we have a male soldier with as much body damage and in as much pain as you were in, the most efficient way to deaden the pain for surgery and recuperation is Kochol. It's a very strong nerve-deadening drug. It's also an extreme muscle relaxer. It completely shuts down most of the major muscle groups in the body. It was designed to leave certain muscle groups unaffected, but it's not perfect. You won't get this drug from your doctor or in a civilian hospital. It's only used by the military. It's generally used on injured soldiers from the front. But you were in pretty bad shape so we gave you the first available compartment."
He looked at me as if hoping I understood and he wouldn't have to explain anymore. I must have had a blank look on my face. He reluctantly continued. "Okay, first off, you should think of those nurses, however much, they may look and act like the real thing, as mere androids. They are just like any other piece of rehabilitation equipment a doctor might use to treat his patient. Kochol is very effective but not always reliable. It has been known to shut down more nerve centers and muscle groups than we want it to. That's why the nurses are programmed to make sure your privates are regularly stimulated and don't go numb. Because deadening the muscles and nerves in your groin area can cause big problems. They can be permanently deadened, causing psychological problems that can be much more difficult and expensive to treat than the loss of a limb. There is also closed circuit monitoring and special sensors in the bed that enable us to keep track of your vital signs. It is a very sophisticated system. Does that help?"
I was staring into space thinking of the treatments I received here on my bed and tried to see the girls in a different way now. Things did make a lot more sense. I felt better just understanding this small portion of my confusion.
"I guess it's not so bad being an injured soldier if they bring you here, eh?"
I flashed a devilish smile. He closed his eyes in relief that I would be good-natured and displayed a broad, boyish grin. "I apologize, you were unconscious when you arrived. Most soldiers in today's service know about our intense pain program."
We tailor it to match the individual. Sometimes moral or religious issues come into play. We do have some men refuse the treatment, but for those who opt for it, it works very well. We try to treat the entire body here at the Center. We feel we have a very comprehensive treatment program. Actually, the treatment, that you received, while in this military unit, is much more efficient and effective than any other unit in the country." He looks back down at the clipboard. "From your file I see you had multiple fractures, some of them,"open". Broken ribs, one punctured lung, a shattered kneecap, broken arm and quite a few cuts and abrasions. I'd say we did quite a bit of work on you in the short three weeks you've been here." He said this as he scanned further down my computerized chart. He spoke again, this time a little more business-like. "I do see here there is a security flag on your chart."
I asked quickly with great interest. "What does that mean?"
He replied, still perusing the chart. "What it means is that I have just realized that we were supposed to notify the security officials before we brought you out of the sky. I'm sure it's nothing to be concerned about. Your wounds were attributed to an accidental fall, but still, I'll have to ask you to come with me to one of our secured waiting areas."
He lightens his facial expression and smiles at me. "Are you feeling better?" He stood up and covered his clipboard, waiting for me to reply or stand.
"One more question, if you don't mind?" I asked as politely as I could.
He nodded his head in agreement. I proceeded. "Why do you construct and send the treatment rooms high up above the clouds?"
"Well here in what we call 'the swamp' it's the only way to supply our patients the two elements essential to healing of the body; fresh air and sunshine." With a confused look he adds, "This is a common hospital structure; you've never seen this type of hospital before?"
I replied quite honestly, "Truthfully 'Doc I don't remember. In fact there are more things I don't remember than things I do!" I looked up at him wishing he could help me understand. At the same time I felt uncomfortable and vulnerable from my statement.
He frowned and with the dispatch of a engineer who'd just been given a problem, he walked to the still open door and switched on the lights illuminating the hospital-green walls. He stepped back to stand in front of me, put his hands on either sides of my head and opened my eyelids wide with his thumbs. As he looked into my eyes he spoke,"I didn't see any mention of +head injury; do you feel dizzy? Are you having trouble with your vision?"
"No." I replied. "But for the life of me, if you don't have my name down on my chart, I can't give it to you." I realized as I looked up into the young man's face that I had done a good job of not dealing with this memory problem up to this point. But it was really frightening to me and I was starting to panic about it.
He must have seen the fear in my eyes. He let his arms drop to his sides and stood up straight looking down into my face.
"Are you hungry?" He asked with raised eyebrows and a lighter tone in his voice.
The question took me by surprise but after thinking of food I did feel hungry.
"Yes, as a matter of fact I'm very hungry!" I must have had a smile on my face which he returned.
He was good. He had taken me out of my fear and gave me something positive to look forward to; food. I still had questions but they would wait till I felt a meal in my belly.
He stood me up and put his arm around my shoulders and as we walked towards the door he said. "Why don't you come with me, mister…" He looked in my eyes as he let the word mister hang for a moment, as if to try and trick my failed memory, or trick me into faltering in a rouse. All I could do was look back at him with a blank expression. The silence lasted only a moment. "Come with me." We resumed walking out of the door into the busy hallway. "I'm going to set you up in a ground room, where I can get you a hot meal from the cafeteria. I'm also going to schedule some tests. Then I'm going to notify security that they'll just have to wait until we figure out just who you are!" He spoke in a very light-hearted tone. I liked this guy. He made me more comfortable and seemed to be interested in helping.
"Thanks Doc!" I said with a smile.
As we walked on down the corridor we stopped for a moment for the Doc to talk with another doctor and a nurse at a nurse's station. While I waited for him I casually gazed around the busy hallway intersection where we stood. There were probably a hundred assorted doctors, nurses, wait-staff and patients, all within the immediate area.
The hallways we walked were not extraordinarily wide, but you could not see the end, in either direction I looked.
As I stood there, marveling at the apparent enormity of the facility, I was struck with the discovery of two young nurses with white hair and completely blue eyes. They walked side by side in perfect step, no doubt on their way to perform some nursing of some sort. They were like twins. They reminded me of my friendly companions back in my room. Specifically, they were like the odd one that fed me last night, but gave me no drug.
'Kochol' I thought to myself.
My thoughts were interrupted by the doctor's return. "You know," he spoke as we resumed our walk. "we need a temporary name for you, just until we find out who you are." He turned to me as he spoke with a questioning look on his face. I said nothing. He continued. "What do you think, Smith, Brown, Jones?" I didn't like any of his choices.
We came to another hallway intersection. We stopped to let two soldiers in camouflaged uniforms wheeling a man laying on a gurney. They cut across our path and stopped next to the admitting desk. He looked unconscious and had a bright red blanket covering most of his body that had printed on it in big white lettering; WARNING; MILITARY PRISONER. The Doc glanced my way and said,"Be careful." Then he walked on. I remained standing beside the gurney and was still thinking of the name thing. And then it came to me. "Hey Doc!" I called to him. Noticing I was not still walking beside him he stopped and tuned around, still only three or four feet from me.
"Yes." He replied.
I said. "How about Black?"
He steps back closer to me to speak. "You'd like to be called mister Black?" he says, as he takes out a pen and paper and jots down the name. "Then that's who you are for now.
But why Black?" He asks, lowering his brow and sporting an interested grin.
"Because of the nurses that kept me stimulated as you put it up in my room; the one that I can't get out of my mind is the Black haired one." I sport a grin of my own.
His grin disappears but his frown deepens. "You must have been hallucinating. There is no…"
Suddenly, our conversation is cut off. The man on the gurney who looked unconscious, throws off his red blanket, jumps off the gurney and swiftly puts his arm under my arm and around my chest. With the strength of his adrenalin, he pulls me with him back against the wall. I see this action reflected in the doctor's shocked face.
The two soldiers, obviously also taken by surprise, start yelling at the man as they draw their side arms and aim at the man's head from across the corridor. My assailant has a knife at my throat and is yelling back at the soldiers in a language neither I nor anyone else in the situation understands.
So here we stand. With his back against one wall of the hallway, this frightened and desperate man with his arm around my chest, holds me in front of him as a shield. He has a blade to my throat, he's screaming gibberish and running out of options.
The two wide-eyed, well-trained but panicked soldiers stand against the opposite wall. They're in military ready stance, 'by the book'; backs flat against a stable structure, feet spread, well-oiled service automatics loaded and aimed at arms length, aimed at their target. Unfortunately for me, their target is right behind me.
The Doc and dozens of frightened passers-by are on the floor and slowly crawling away from the line of fire. The yelling back and forth continues for too long a time for me. This is all too much for me right now. Something in my mind snaps.
I look directly into the eyes of the soldiers."Listen up!" I shout loud and clear. This is a phrase they've heard from their commanders many times. It silences them immediately. My gaze at them becomes very hard and purposeful. They glance at each other wondering to themselves, 'Who is this guy?'
" I can relate." I think to myself.
The man behind me is still yelling sporadically. I continue my directions to the confused soldiers. "Weapons ready." I shout as I lower my head and lay my chin on my chest and squeeze the knife blade as tight as I possibly can. As swiftly as possible, I reach my left hand, back over my left shoulder and with my fingers, find and grab the back of the man's ear for grip and shove my thumb into his eye as hard and deep as I can. At the same time I reach down with my right hand and vise-grip his nuts.
With practice this can all be done in a second or two. Don't ask me how I know this.
For whatever reason my memory was working at full speed. "When you attack your opponents body in more than one spot simultaneously, you can gain yourself a pain induced confusion factor of approximately three seconds." I don't know what self-defense manual I learned this from, but I was hoping for it to last a little longer.
Wasting no time, still gripping the blade with my neck, I say through my tightly clinched teeth. "On three. One,… two…"
On three, as I anticipated, the man manages to pull the blade from my hold, slicing the skin of my neck but leaving my throat unharmed. From the effort exerted to free the knife, the hand holding it is now far flung away from me. I threw my head back smashing into his face.
Then I dropped to the floor.
The next eight seconds were like a bad Italian Mafia movie.
I'm not sure, I was too busy bleeding to watch, but I'd say both pistol clips were emptied into the man before his body hit the floor.
It took fifty-seven stitches to close the wound in my neck but there was no damage to any arteries or muscle.
I lay in a hospital bed in what they called one of their 'ground rooms'. A term for a room without elevation capabilities. I was rather worn out from my harrowing experience and a little more rest was welcome. And I was finally able to get a hot meal. Real food; no grapes. It was very welcome indeed.That evening I had a visit from the two soldiers from the hallway massacre. They were really nice guys and they apologized for the entire incident. They each tried to claim personal responsibility for the whole thing. They explained they were just delivering the man to the Center. He had been captured and was already on the gurney and covered with the blanket when they took charge of him. Neither had thought to look under the blanket to see if his restraints were secure.
And they kept calling me "Sir" in a military tone. I tried to explain to them I was not in the military. But they just went on about "the knife and the neck thing." One of them told me, "That was the 'baddest fuckin' thing' I've seen!"
I shook their hands, thanked them both for saving my life and they left.

I really was enjoying the light-hearted discussion which calmed all of our nerves a bit more. I did feel bad about the man; now dead. Even though he tried to cut my throat I knew the situation he found himself in made him desperate for his own survival. And although to the soldiers I made light of my actions, I had to wonder myself where I learned to be that decisive, that powerfully quick. I still had the dead man's blood on my thumb.

The Doc knocks on the open door and says with a smile, "How are you doing Mister Black?" He entered the room and walked around my bed to stand beside me.
"Fine Doc!" I say as he leans over me and looks closer at the gauze bandages wrapped around my neck.
Him calling me Mister Black reminds me of our unfinished conversation from the hallway and so I asked him where we were with it when we were interrupted?
"I was saying that the Kochol must have been making you hallucinate a little." He said as he turned and stepped towards the door. Then he stopped and turned back to face me again and continued speaking, "You see, as I said, those androids are programmed to perform as they did for you. When we schedule a wounded soldier for that type of treatment we say, we're sending him to "play in traffic". We call it that because it's a little less embarrassing for our real nurses. And of course a traffic light is Red, Yellow and Green. There are no androids here with Black hair. But Mister Black will due you for now." He flashed a doctor's practiced reassuring smile.
This information stunned me speechless. He turned to leave and spoke as he walked out the door."Get some rest, we start those tests early in the morning." Just outside the doorway, he turned back one more time to add, "By the way, what you did in the hall earlier," he paused with a show of respect, a raised eyebrow and a slight but firm grin said. "very impressive!" He then turned and disappeared down the hall.
I laid in the bed just staring into space thinking on the implications of this bit of news.
If the Doc was right and I was hallucinating the Black haired nurse, then why was it she was the one that I remember the most. Could it be she seemed more like a real woman than the others? I sure didn't think I had been hallucinating that much.
Just as some questions were being answered, this new one comes up.
I had a very hard time sleeping that night.

(This is a work in progress)