Immortal by Kelvin Kelley

in
the chair to make his back more comfortable. All of the touches
from the control stick had made the muscles in his back, arms and
legs ache. Even as he just sat there in the chair , he hurt. So
tired. He hurt. He slept.
    When he next came awake, he drifted into the
sea of consciousness much easier this time. He did not feel like he
had to fight his way to the surface, but simply came awake. As he
opened his eyes it startled him. The Guardian stood right in front
of him. He quickly tried to push back in the control chair, but
remained securely bound. Instinctively he looked down to where the
Guardian had held the control stick during his interrogation, but
noticed instantly that the control stick was not extended. It was
positioned safely away from him. His breath came rapidly, as he
tried to relax just a bit, and felt the tenseness in his muscles
release. He was not going to be touched, at least not at this
moment. The room was still lit, and it was just him and the
Guardian. It stood in front of him as before, and though there was
no way to tell, he was certain that it was the same Guardian. They
each looked exactly alike, and had no distinguishing features or
insignia, but Jericho knew, somewhere deep inside, that this was
the same Guardian that had unmercifully interrogated him. He felt a
sense of nausea well up inside as he looked at the unmoving
figure.
    The Guardian stepped suddenly to the side, as
it sensed that he was awake. Jericho jerked back, his eyes keenly
aware of the location of the control stick. The Guardian grabbed
his shoulder and reached behind him. Jericho desperately continued
to fight to stay away from it, as he struggled with all of his
might.
    “Be calm.” The mechanical voice emitted from
the Guardian. Be calm my ass, thought Jericho, as he still
struggled to get away from it. Pain shot through his wrists where
his hands were shackled behind his back. “Be calm.” Repeated the
Guardian. “You are in no danger.” It said, and suddenly the
shackles came free. Jericho still fought to get away, and was
brought down by his own struggles, onto the cold dirty floor, as he
landed harshly on his side. He scrabbled across the stone smelling
of urine and mold and who knew what else, and kicked his legs to
get away from the Guardian, as it remained motionless. Silence.
Just his own breathing and his own heartbeat. He pulled himself
into a sitting position, his back against the wall, and stared at
the Guardian. The feeling began to rush back into his arms, and
they began to tingle as if on fire, when suddenly the Guardian
spoke.
    “Be calm.” It said once again. “You are in no
danger.” It repeated, and suddenly broke from its motionless stance
and began to approach him. His struggles had left him exhausted
after the interrogation ordeal, and though ever fiber of his being
screamed for him to get away, Jericho had nothing left. He sat
there. Tired and exhausted, against the wall, he waited. The
Guardian approached, and it reached down its hand.
    Jericho held his hands up in front of his
eyes, as he stepped out onto the street. His eyes had become
accustomed to the barely lit interior of the control center, and
now he had to squint them. He sneezed, and wiped his nose with the
back of his hand. As he blinked, and remembered his painful
experiences with bright light during the interrogation, he just
wanted to get home. He saw the Guardian as it stood at the
building’s corner, and thought that he had had quite enough of them
for now. He looked down, careful not to look directly at it, as he
crossed the street that was mostly empty, and headed towards the
building that contained his compartment. Any other time he might
have been self conscious about his urine stained pants, but for now
he was too tired to care. His father would still be asleep, and his
sister still at the factory, but her shift would be over soon. He
just wanted to clean up and then get to the meal building. It had
been yesterday