"Hello Mr. Demond. Welcome to PsiTronix Investigations, the ultimate in high tech security and surveillance. I'm Id-Stat, the virtual receptionist. I screen every candidate before the group will even consider their application. I must warn you before we proceed Mr. Demond, that this session is being recorded. Everything you say is being processed through a stress analyzer, so please weigh your responses carefully."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Oh sure, my editor warned me that they were a weird bunch when he gave me this crazy assignment, but nothing he said had prepared me for this. I was sitting across a desk from a video monitor, being interviewed by some kind of high tech computer that sounded just a bit too human for my taste.
I made a mental note to quiz Henderson, the Magazine's resident computer geek on the current state of AI technology. Either I'd fallen asleep for a few years or artificial intelligence had made quantum leaps in progress overnight.
"I seem to be losing your attention Mr. Demond. Perhaps it would be best if you returned at a later time when you weren't quite so preoccupied."
"What...oh sorry. Things have been a bit stressed for me lately. I have a lot on my mind." Unfortunately, that wasn't too far from the truth. Assignments had dropped off to nothing in recent months, which of course was how I ended up in this mess in the first place.
"Your response lies within expectable parameters, but you appear to be experiencing undue stress in conjunction with your answers. The probability that you are engaging in some form of deception at this point is approaching 78%. I must remind you that since you cannot lie to yourself, you cannot lie to me. Your psychophysiological responses will betray you every time."
Things were going to be tougher then I thought. I was here along with a couple of dozen other hopefuls responding to an ad in the help wanted section of the newspaper I freelance for. Of course I was after a lot more than a job. No one had ever met the faces behind the agency, and I hoped to be the first.
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They shied away from publicity, preferring to work in the shadows. Understandable since its easier to be invisible when nobody knows what you look like. However, I had a job to do, and I knew it wasn't going to be an easy one. I had to slip through the cracks to get on the inside, but getting by this infernal machine was proving to be a nightmare.
Somehow I had to make my reality and my cover story match. I'm glad they didn't request a resume or I'd have been out on my ass by now. Problem was the pile of bull I'd concocted, as a background wasn't going to wash, and I had to come up with something else fast.
"I was just thinking about something else. I'm sorry. Look I hope you consider me for the job, I need the money." Too true unfortunately. If this assignment didn't pay off, I was going to find myself writing about this by candlelight.
The computer's analysis of my body's responses continued to scroll across the video monitor without a flicker of deception registering on the screen. Jackpot! My hunch was right. The damn thing could be fooled.
"A noble and honest response Mr. Demond but there must be some other reason as to why we should consider your application besides money. Every candidate has exhibited the same need. Please describe your educational background including anything that may apply to the field of security and investigations.
"Well... I studied psychology in university. I also took courses in electronics, photography, and a few writing courses. I also hold a valid FAC license and own my own gun."
"What about related work experience?"
"I did some debt collections and skip tracing awhile back. I also did some photo work for an insurance company." Yuck! The stuff we stoop to, to put ourselves through university. Oh well, it pays the bills. This was the first time I'd admitted it in years.
"Thank you. Please stand by for a retina and finger print scan. Place your hands on the arms of the chair and stare at the red dot on the box above the video monitor."
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The arms of the chair lit up and scanned my prints. Somehow I couldn't help feeling like I'd just been photocopied. Then like a damn fool I stared at that infernal red dot. A series of laser scan lines traced the roadmap pattern of blood vessels located in the back of my eyes, leaving me momentarily blind to everything except for the bright red spots dancing wildly in front of my eyes.
I was sure my photo was being taken as well. I also had no doubt that a video camera had been trained on me since I'd entered the room. I could almost feel their eyes watching my every move through the large one way mirror mounted into the wall behind the table that held my electronic interviewer, and couldn't help but stare at the mirror trying to catch a peek at what lie beyond.
"Your attention seems to wandering again, Mr. Demond. Perhaps you should consider postponing your interview until a later date. I don't seem to be catching you at your best."
"No, no that's ok. Like I said I need the money. I'll do anything it takes to get this position. Please continue." More truth, but I was beginning to stretch it a bit thin.
"Please stand by." The all too perfect computer generated voice commanded.
I sat and waited. And, for a time nothing happened. Then I felt the strangest sensation. The chair I was sitting in became warmer and remolding itself to the contours of my body. It oozed into the new configuration almost as if it were alive. When it finished it felt as if I was born to sit there.
But I seemed to have made myself comfortable a bit too soon. I got the eeriest feeling that something was about to snap. For no apparent reason a heavy dose of andrenelin got an extra rush through my arteries when my heart launched into high gear. Moments later the door blew open and all hell broke lose.
I moved even before I saw him. He was a big mother. A mutant if I ever saw one. He plowed his fist into the seat expecting to find me there. I decided to floor him while I still had the chance. I knew I only had one shot, because if he was able to stand up afterwards I was in big trouble.
He was an ugly cuss, and hard to look at. His face looked like it had a slapping contest with the front end of a semi and lost. Deep scars like diseased welts ran across his right cheek and his breath was well... my Saint Bernard Dribbles' smelt better.
I nailed him just behind his left ear with everything I had but he just turned and glared at me. Most men would have caved in after a blow like that, but no, he had to have a skull built like a concrete block. I lunged toward the door but it was locked, electronically sealed with no visible means of opening the damn thing.
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Something didn't jive in all this. If the door was electronically sealed, how could the Neanderthal have gotten through the agency's impregnable security system? Besides I was sure I was being watched. Someone would have intervened by now if this were for real. So it must be some kind of test.
I decided to give them a show they'd never forget. I prayed my short bout with the martial arts a few years ago would pay off. I was rusty. Hadn't practiced in years, but some things you never forget. I was finally grateful for all those hours of sweat in the gym as well. I was in top shape, and with a little luck he might not hurt me too badly.
I did have one advantage. I am a wiry little shit, and visions of David and Goliath danced through my head. As the saying goes, the bigger they are, the harder they fall. I just hoped they weren't lying.
They were. Hitting him was like trying to give sheet metal a good pasting. The harder I hit him the more I hurt. I was obviously on the wrong track. If a swift kick to the head didn't phase him, nothing else I had up my sleeve was going to make any difference.
Violence was not the answer. I felt as if I was participating in some bizarre experiment. Then I felt stupid. If violence wasn't the way out if this mess than what was. My eyes darted about the room, taking in everything within grabbing distance. I came up empty, and he was getting a bit too close for comfort.
That's when I dove over the desk. Unfortunately there was nothing there to help me either. Just a bunch of computer cables and an old steno chair. That's when the idea hit me. Better an idea then him. I grabbed the chair and flung it at the mirror. The chair survived. The mirror didn't fare nearly as well.
Shards of glass flew everywhere. Fortunately no one was hurt. Seems like they had already anticipated my maneuver. They stood behind a protective barrier, their faces partially obscured by the shadows.
I suspected the barrier was there to protect them from more than just a chair. Something like me for example. I strongly doubted I was the first to run their bizarre gauntlet or to experience the homicidal urges their behavior had invoked in me.
It was then that I remembered the Neanderthal in the other room. However, when I turned around to look behind me, he was gone. But then again, so was everything else. The place was empty. A neat trick since I had only looked away for a couple of moments.
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Now no one is that fastidious, not even Greta, my ex-wife, queen of the clean freaks. She might have been able to pull off something like that in about fifteen minutes, ten tops if she pulled out all of the stops. But this... this was impossible.
