Punishment

[6]

THE HOLO APPEARED IN front of the wall opposite the sofa. It showed a dim room with metal walls pressing in impossibly close on the three figures inside.

There were the Guardians, shimmering in their gray uniforms, perfect features seeming brighter than the projection itself, and then there was the dull brown skin of the proxy, who stood in profile, his arms raised up over his head where they were suspended in restraints. His shirt had been removed, revealing a brown back straight as iron, nicked with scars. Behind his ear he had an odd birthmark that always made Knox wonder why he hadn’t had it removed. They had patches that could clear up those sorts of blemishes and remove those scars.

He could even have lightened his skin, if he wanted. It’s not like the boy lacked for credit. He could borrow and borrow and borrow. Knox’s father would keep paying for that proxy contract forever.

He’d have to. What an embarrassment it would be for the CEO of SecuriTech’s own son not to have a proxy. What would people say?

The proxy was breathing deeply where he stood, but even as his chest rose and fell, his face stayed firmly fixed on the wall in front of him, his jaw slammed shut and his eyes locked forward, bracing himself against the pain he had no way to prevent.

For a moment Knox wondered why the boy wouldn’t look into the holo directly, but he reminded himself that the proxy didn’t know where the transmitters were, nor even who was watching him. Patron Confidentiality was essential to the system. The patron needed to see the suffering his actions caused to others, but the proxy needn’t know anything about the patron.

There’d be no purpose to the proxy knowing much of anything.

It was a simple law of nature, taught in every social science class at Knox’s school: Information breeds resentment among debtors, while it fosters responsibility among creditors. Put another way, what Knox’s proxy didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

The boy stood there like a burnt statue. Knox’s father looked between the holo and the sofa, where Knox did his best to look bored. He didn’t want to give his father the satisfaction of seeing Knox upset by this “lesson.” He didn’t even really listen as the Guardian laid out the charges against Knox and the penalty that his proxy would pay.

He studied his fingernails while the proxy was given the option to pay off his debt and free himself from the contract that bound him to Knox. It always went this way and his proxy never had any way of paying off his debt. None of the proxies ever did, but the offer made the whole system fair. They all had the right to be free of their debt. No one was forcing them to borrow more than they could repay, right?

“Pay attention,” Knox’s father snapped at him. “This is your doing and you will see what you have done.”

Knox looked up and watched through narrowed eyes as the Guardian raised her silver EMD stick to his proxy’s side. The dark-skinned boy bit down on his lip and twitched as the pulse shot through his body. He quivered, but did not fall. 

“One,” the Guardian said.

Knox watched as the stick touched the boy’s side again. This time his whole body jolted; he flailed on the end of his arms, like plastic caught on a fence, flapping in a breeze. Two more jolts came in quick succession. The boy drooled a little and his head slumped.

The fifth jolt snapped him upright again, and when his arms and legs stopped twitching, he fixed his eyes on the wall once more, his face as blank as when they’d started. Not even a hint of emotion. 

The Guardian stepped up to wipe the spittle from his mouth with a small cloth and the proxy spit in her face. She didn’t react, but Knox did, letting out an involuntary laugh. Guess there was some emotion in there after all.

His father’s expression wiped the grin off Knox’s face. He glared down at his son as the holo went dark again, and the blank wall blazed white where the tiny cell had been a moment before.

His father didn’t say a word. Fifteen years of disappointment stuffed into the silence until it was filled to bursting. 

“May I be excused now?” Knox said.

His father exhaled loudly through his nose.

“Please, sir?” Knox added with exaggerated servility.

 “When will you grow up?” his father said. “When will you learn to think of anyone but yourself?”

Knox stood. He turned his back on his father and walked to the stairs. “As soon as you do,” he called back on his way up the stairs.

He’d already sent a sly message to Nine, to find out what happened after he left his party and if any of the girls were asking about him.

His friend didn’t write back and he heard his father take an urgent call and rush from the house, activating the security system behind him.

Knox laughed to himself. If he wanted to, he could break out of there in less than five minutes, and the night was still young, after all. But as he stood in the hall, halfway to his room, he froze where he stood. He couldn’t think of a single place to go.