Cubicle       
By Don Stockard

  (continued)

Jason had heard of rehab but he had, of course, never talked to anyone who had been through it. It was forbidden to discuss any arm of punishment. He had the vague idea it was unpleasant but not fatal. At the moment that was a consolation. At the end of the final hall, his guide led Jason into a brightly-lit white room. At first he thought it was completely bare but once his eyes adjusted to the light, he could make out closed cubicles lining three of the walls. The woman opened one and Jason, after a momentary hesitation, entered. The door closed almost soundlessly behind him. The interior was the same uniform white as the room but the light was muted and diffuse. He spread his arms to get an idea of the dimensions of the cubicle. It was roomier than the detention cubicle. He was deciding whether to stand or slump to the floor when everything went black.

When Jason woke, his head throbbed and his stomach lurched. After several deep breaths the headache and nausea diminished. He started to move and halted as he realized a number of wires were attached to his body. A voice abruptly filled the cubicle. The sound had no apparent point of origin and completely enveloped him.

"Jason," the voice said, "your rehabilitation is about to begin." It was a stern masculine voice. Jason said nothing. "We are able to monitor your every response. It is not necessary for you to respond verbally unless we ask you to speak."

"Very well," Jason said and immediately felt a painful shock.

"We did not ask for a verbal response," the voice said flatly.

Jason repressed the reflex to respond.

"Let us begin," the flat voice said. "I want you to repeat the Axioms of State." The voice halted and Jason did not speak. "You may reply verbally."

"The state gave me life. The state... " A shock interrupted Jason.

"You will give the proper designation of each axiom."

"First axiom: The state gave me life. Second axiom: The state is omniscient. Third axiom: The state is omnipotent." Another shock.

"That is the fourth axiom, not the third."

Jason frowned. "Oh, yes. Third axiom: The state is omnipresent. Fourth axiom: The state is omnipotent. Fifth axiom: The state fulfills all my needs. Sixth axiom: . . ." Several sharp shocks coursed through Jason when he did not continue.

"Do you not know the sixth axiom?"

"It . . . it's right on the tip of my tongue. Sixth axiom: The state protects me," Jason said in a rush. "Seventh axiom: The state cares for me while I am ill. Eighth axiom: Outside the state there is nothing. Ninth axiom: My highest duty is to glorify the state. Tenth axiom: The state may terminate my life when it sees . . . when and how it sees fit." Jason licked his lips nervously. He had always hated repeating the axioms, even as a small child. But he had quickly learned one did not mention the fact.

"Your recall of the axioms is worse than that of the average pupil of 12 years of age. You clearly need a refresher." The voice began to drone the axioms, repeating the sequence time after time. If Jason started to drift off, a shock brought him abruptly awake. Periodically the voice demanded Jason repeat the axioms. The cycle went on for hours.

"Describe your value to the state," the voice demanded.

Jason was relieved to hear something other than the axioms. "I work for the Department of the Environment. I operate a machine which punches holes in reports so they can be inserted in ring binders."

"Do you ever read the reports?"

"It is strictly forbidden to do so." Jason started involuntarily at the shock.

"I did not ask what the regulations state. I asked if you have ever read a report."

"No, never." A cascade of shocks sent Jason to the brink of unconsciousness.

"That is a lie. I do not tolerate lies. What reports have you read?"

Jason shook his head to remove the cobwebs. "I've never read a full report. Occasionally I've glanced at the first page or so." A shock shot through him. "Once the machine malfunctioned and papers flew everywhere. As I gathered them up, I read sections of several pages."

"Was that where you learned of the forest?"

"Yes. The report had to do with the forest."

"And what did it say?"

Jason swallowed. "It talked about how large the forest is."

"How large is it?"

"I don't know if it said in the part I read. If it did, I don't remember."

"And?"

"And?"

The machine replied with a shock. "What else did you read?"

"It talked about different kinds of trees, which meant nothing to me. And . . ."

"Well?"

Although there was no shock, the voice was demanding.

"And it talked about the beauty of the forest."

"So that is how you came to speak of the forest."

Jason did not reply and a voice, not that of his interrogator, filled the cubicle. "The forest is supposedly beautiful," the voice said. "It makes you wonder, doesn't it?" He realized the voice was his own. He wondered if they had caught his remark in a random review or if someone had turned him in. It made, he realized, no difference.

"That is your voice, is it not?"

"Yes."

"This is how you choose to enhance the state?"

"I was merely repeating what the report... " A shock silenced him.

"What you read was clearly out of context and you distorted the meaning. You know, of course, it is strictly forbidden to enter the forest."

Jason did not reply, having received no request for a remark.

"And for a good reason. The forest is a dangerous place. Anyone who goes there would meet a quick and terrible death, and thus be of no service to the state. And by saying what you did, you might encourage someone to violate a principle of the state."


The voice halted and Jason felt a slight movement on either side. He realized the walls of the cubicle were moving slowly inward. Neglecting the wires attached to his body, he instinctively braced his arms against the walls. But inexorably the walls continued to move, forcing his arms back. He turned sideways, placing his knees against one wall and back against the other. Still the wall moved in. Soon it was against his chest. He stifled a scream. Then suddenly the pressure relaxed and the walls returned to their previous positions.

"You felt fear," the voice said. "The fear of imminent death."

Jason was gasping as sweat poured off him.

"That is what one would feel if one were to enter the forest -- cold implacable fear."

The cubicle went black and a series of visions flashed through Jason's mind. Grotesque beasts with fangs and bloodied claws roared. Between the terrifying visions the voice gave the names of the beasts and told where they could be found in the forest. Jason had no idea how long the string of horrors lasted. When light finally returned to the cubicle, he was drenched in sweat and vomit.

"Now do you see the error of your ways?"

"Yes," Jason croaked. No punishing shock reminded him he had not been prompted for a response.

"Do you fully understand how you are to behave in the future?"

"Yes."

"Very well. Your physical and mental responses signify you are indeed telling the truth."

Once again, Jason slipped into unconsciousness. When he awoke, he was lying on a cot in a small white room. He was clean and a set of clothes was draped over a chair. He sat up. His head was clear and there was no trace of nausea. He could recall, however, the details of his rehabilitation. He stood up and dressed. Once he was done, the door opened and the woman who had originally conducted him to the judge entered.

"You are free to go," she said. "It is noon. You will be expected at work tomorrow morning. Follow me." She turned on her heel and strode out of the room. Jason followed her to the exit.

He halted in the street, blinking at the traffic. He hurried to the nearest bus stop and jumped aboard the first bus. After several miles, he transferred and then transferred again. He rode busses for several hours, finally abandoning them near the edge of the city. He walked past several large warehouses and halted. Before him was an open space, terminated by a ten-foot wall of red brick -- the wall defining the limits of the city.

Jason walked along the edge of the city, parallel to the wall. It only took him half an hour to find what he was looking for. Leaning against a building undergoing renovation was a ladder. Grabbing the ladder, he dragged it to the wall, raised it, clambered up and hoisted himself to the top. There in the distance was the forest. He paused, staring in awe at the expanse of green. The report was right. It was beautiful. Jason had spoke the truth when he had told the interrogator he knew exactly what he intended to do. The report had told him how to build a shelter and had talked of numerous edible plants. And it had also clearly stated that there was nothing harmful within the forest.

Gripping the top of the wall, Jason lowered himself over the far side and dropped to the ground. Standing up, he smiled broadly. The cold pools of anger from deep within him sublimated into eagerness as he walked toward the forest.