Private notes on the status of Clair's two remaining test subjects.

[ockette]

Malloway is beginning to develop an insensitivity to the ZJ, I think.  This merits more testing, but it's not promising.  He has recieved the equivelant of more than two hundred doses in eighteen months.  He no longer responds to stimulous at all, but I believe his coma is still reversible.  But that would be cruel

Comments

[mundane_shopper]

And he awoke, slowly, in Cell 1, though he didn't know it was Cell 1, specifically. He didn't know much of anything. The lights were dim, but not dark, and all was quiet. So, where was he, and what had happened?

He tried to remember, but couldn't come up with anything. He had fallen asleep, apparently, and ended up here, dressed in loose white clothing and lying on a narrow bed attached to the wall, in a small nearly featureless room.

He looked at his hands, then his arms. A skinny fellow. I must have been asleep for some time, he mused. He let his hand fall onto his forehead - no hair on his head, or very little. He startled slightly with worry as he found he didn't know what color hair he had, could not remember.

Or his name, for that matter. Who was he, and how did he end up here? Was he in a prison, a mental hospital, or hell, maybe?

[ockette]

The door slid open, letting in a very small woman in white and grey. It stayed open behind her; all he could see outside was the opposite wall of a corridor.

"Hello, Bernard." She smiled, friendly. "Do you remember me?"

[mundane_shopper]

"Bernard...'s that my name?" His voice sounded a bit rough, as if he hadn't talked in a long, long time.

"I don't...you...you look familiar." There was something about her, about a very short woman with red hair, the way a thing like Pluto is familar, even though he had never seen it, not even a photo. Something told him that she was not associated with particurally happy times, but she was attractive and female, so he tried to straighten up, and ran his fingers through his stubble in an attempt to make himself presentable before he realized there wasn't much use.

"Where am I, a hospital? I don't feel sick..." His stomach was a bit off, but he couldn't tell if it was sickness or hunger.

[ockette]

She nodded, pulling a stool over and hopping into it with her clipboard in her lap. "Good. I'm Doctor Octavius, and this is a hospital. You've been through an ordeal, and you've been suffering from temporary amnesia. I'd like to evaluate you, and help you get your memories back."