Caged

3 - Questions

By the time I open my eyes again, the city is gone.  I know everything must’ve really happened because I’m lying on the floor of the Testing room and my legs are soaking wet.

Certa stands in front of the screen with a sly smile on her face.

“Welcome back,” she greets.

I look around to see that everyone is just as discombobulated as I am, sprawled out on the floor, glancing around at each other, wondering if they just fell asleep before the exams started.

I eye Dalton.  He and Copious are the only ones standing up.  Dalton has a look on his face that I can’t quite read.  I don’t know if he feels bad that he just slaughtered the mutant or if he too is perplexed by all of this, wondering if it all even happened.

“We’ll be moving along to the survey.  Answer as honestly as possible.  Your answers are confidential.  After all of you complete it, Phase 1 will be finished,” Certa explains.

The five of us follow Certa through the doors and into another room.  This one is cool, and Elena lets out a satisfied sigh.  It isn’t until now that I realize I’m sweating and panting.

The room is completely chrome like the outside walls of the Preside Building.  Sprouting from the silver floors are five dark brown desks that look outdated in the sleek, mod room.  We all take a desk for our own.

“Your survey will be transmitted shortly,” says Certa.

Transmitted?  As the thought slips across my mind, the brown top of the desk slides forward automatically and stores itself under the desk.  It exposes a screen.

Slowly “SURVEY – PHASE 1”starts to fade into the screen.  Confused, I pick up the stylus on the desk and tap the screen.

What was the most shocking part of the stimulation?

I hold in a chuckle.  What, are they trying to figure out what to do and what not to do next time?  After a quick scan of the room, no one else seems to be thinking the same way I am.  I try my best to write as neatly as I can into the space: Everything.

Can you be more specific?

I scratch my head.  The spiders, the mutant, the people.

What surprised you about the people?

Is someone on the Panel asking me these questions?  There’s no way it’s just a computer generating the same questions to everyone.  These are the kind of responses you would get from someone trying to pry into you to find the details.  They connect.  I write: Their strength.  The way they reacted to things.

Do you usually panic while under stress?

This makes me crinkle my eyebrows.  I did not panic back there.  Did I?  I defiantly write: Well I don’t think so.

On a scale of 1-10, how happy are you most of the time?

I remember what Certa said about being as honest as possible.  But do I really feel like boring the Panel with my sob story?  I remember another thing: the angle my mother wants me to go in.  Someone willing to roll with the punches, say what the Panel wants to hear.  What do they want to hear?  The truth?  Roughly four, but it feels like one.