woman flexes the muscles in her jaw. “All I see is a line of pathetic girls born in a toxic wasteland, over-radiated and undernourished. Abandoned by their parents. Acute schizophrenia running rampant. Barely human.”
“But we are treating them, just as the government requested.” Cat’s upper body stiffens. “We’ve seen measurable improvement in symptoms.”
“They no longer hear voices?” The woman raises an eyebrow.
“When we started the program, the girls were entirely intractable. Out of control. In a state of constant auditory stimulation. It was pure chaos.” Cat steps closer to the line of girls and reaches out to a silent one, raising her chin and staring into her eyes. "Yes, they were hearing voices. But more than that, it was almost as if they were communicating with . . . each other. Anything alive.”
“What do you mean?”
“The children claimed to hear thoughts in the form of words or music. From the trees. From flowers. Animals outside the perimeter. Insects. Even the workers here at the Institution.”
The woman walks to Cat’s side. “And now?”
“Of course, it was all just hallucination on a massive scale. Schizophrenic chaos. But, as you can see, they are calm now. Quiet. The symptoms are almost gone. With a few stubborn exceptions.” Her eyes scan down the line to Luca, lingering for an instant. "There is no doubt. With more treatment, we will be able to introduce them back into general society.”
“This treatment,” the woman says. “How does it work?”
“We administer negative physical stimuli when the symptoms manifest and keep them on a carefully monitored, low-calorie diet.”
“In other words, you beat and starve them?” The woman turns to meet Cat’s gaze, eyes narrowing. “That is exactly what has our Minister of Foreign Affairs worried. We Chinese have been in Tokyo for less than a generation. If any of this were to leak to the Mesh, it wouldn’t play well. As you know, our government is extremely sensitive to outside criticism. The political ramifications could be—”
“No, it’s not like that,” Cat says. “We gently reinforce the fact that the voices aren’t real. We teach them behaviors and strategies to avoid engagement and dialogue. Give them tools to ignore the sounds in their heads. Make the voices themselves distasteful. With persistent treatment, the voices eventually go away.”
And when they refuse to listen, yes, we beat them without mercy.
Luca’s eyes jump open at the sound of Cat’s voice in her mind.
“What about the low-calorie diet? These girls look like starving pigeons. How is that helping?”
“Hunger keeps them focused. We feed them enough to keep them healthy, but not enough to interfere with the treatments.”
When they’re starving, they don’t have the energy to resist or even think.
The woman fumbles with a jax in her pocket. “We don’t have much time, so let’s jump to the bottom line. Why should the central government continue to fund your program? Many other needs press upon us. Too many mouths to feed in this country of yours.” Her gaze wanders to the waiting transport.
Because I need the money to pay off my luxury condo on the Izu Peninsula. Not to mention Maui.
“We are producing results.” Cat lifts her slate. “These are not the only children in Japan who suffer the severe effects of radiation poisoning. Thousands of them wander the streets, orphaned or abandoned. Many end up in camps or overstrained mental institutions. They swell the ranks of the homeless, and chaos follows in their wake. They are a plague on society. The problem is only growing. We are on the verge of finding a solution. You need what we have to offer. Surely you know this.”
“The more I see,” the woman scans the courtyard, “the more I think you’re bluffing. But I’m no expert. Just a cog in the machine, sent here to decide whether to pull the plug on you.”
“Regardless of whether you agree with our results
“But we are treating them, just as the government requested.” Cat’s upper body stiffens. “We’ve seen measurable improvement in symptoms.”
“They no longer hear voices?” The woman raises an eyebrow.
“When we started the program, the girls were entirely intractable. Out of control. In a state of constant auditory stimulation. It was pure chaos.” Cat steps closer to the line of girls and reaches out to a silent one, raising her chin and staring into her eyes. "Yes, they were hearing voices. But more than that, it was almost as if they were communicating with . . . each other. Anything alive.”
“What do you mean?”
“The children claimed to hear thoughts in the form of words or music. From the trees. From flowers. Animals outside the perimeter. Insects. Even the workers here at the Institution.”
The woman walks to Cat’s side. “And now?”
“Of course, it was all just hallucination on a massive scale. Schizophrenic chaos. But, as you can see, they are calm now. Quiet. The symptoms are almost gone. With a few stubborn exceptions.” Her eyes scan down the line to Luca, lingering for an instant. "There is no doubt. With more treatment, we will be able to introduce them back into general society.”
“This treatment,” the woman says. “How does it work?”
“We administer negative physical stimuli when the symptoms manifest and keep them on a carefully monitored, low-calorie diet.”
“In other words, you beat and starve them?” The woman turns to meet Cat’s gaze, eyes narrowing. “That is exactly what has our Minister of Foreign Affairs worried. We Chinese have been in Tokyo for less than a generation. If any of this were to leak to the Mesh, it wouldn’t play well. As you know, our government is extremely sensitive to outside criticism. The political ramifications could be—”
“No, it’s not like that,” Cat says. “We gently reinforce the fact that the voices aren’t real. We teach them behaviors and strategies to avoid engagement and dialogue. Give them tools to ignore the sounds in their heads. Make the voices themselves distasteful. With persistent treatment, the voices eventually go away.”
And when they refuse to listen, yes, we beat them without mercy.
Luca’s eyes jump open at the sound of Cat’s voice in her mind.
“What about the low-calorie diet? These girls look like starving pigeons. How is that helping?”
“Hunger keeps them focused. We feed them enough to keep them healthy, but not enough to interfere with the treatments.”
When they’re starving, they don’t have the energy to resist or even think.
The woman fumbles with a jax in her pocket. “We don’t have much time, so let’s jump to the bottom line. Why should the central government continue to fund your program? Many other needs press upon us. Too many mouths to feed in this country of yours.” Her gaze wanders to the waiting transport.
Because I need the money to pay off my luxury condo on the Izu Peninsula. Not to mention Maui.
“We are producing results.” Cat lifts her slate. “These are not the only children in Japan who suffer the severe effects of radiation poisoning. Thousands of them wander the streets, orphaned or abandoned. Many end up in camps or overstrained mental institutions. They swell the ranks of the homeless, and chaos follows in their wake. They are a plague on society. The problem is only growing. We are on the verge of finding a solution. You need what we have to offer. Surely you know this.”
“The more I see,” the woman scans the courtyard, “the more I think you’re bluffing. But I’m no expert. Just a cog in the machine, sent here to decide whether to pull the plug on you.”
“Regardless of whether you agree with our results
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