George
"I'm telling you, I just don't know." My voice is tired, they've been questioning me on and off for hours and my answers haven't changed much. I would be bored if I wasn't so scared.
I prefer it when they leave, but not by much. At least with their endless questions and threats, I don't have energy to dwell on my uncertain future. When they leave, it gives me time to try to make sense of what on earth is going on, no luck there, and to worry. At least the handcuffs are stopping me chewing my nails, they would be demolished by now with all this pent up stress.
There's a gap in my memory, shortly after the big black vans turned up at my kiosk and TOMI gave me a warning. I woke in this cell with a major hangover and crick in my neck. I'm in a light blue t-shirt and trouser combo that I did not put on this morning, if it's even the same day. At some point they must have changed me, I don't even want to think about what that involved. The uncomfortable handcuffs have become part of the torture.
Shifting my weight to stop the hard chair digging into my back, I stare at the rough brick walls that close in on me. The harsh light bulb in the ceiling is behind a grill and highlights the stark feel of the cell. The manky drain in the middle of the floor plays on my nerves. Every now and again fresh stenches seep up through it. I imagine it's for easy clean, to rinse the place of filth and bloody messes they create in their interrogations. Not that they've actually hurt me, yet. So far it's all been open-ended threats and endless questions.
The concrete floor is cold on my bare feet. Bare feet? I look down, they've taken my shoes, how did I miss that! Gits! I strain against my hand cuffs, fists clench as a new wave of hatred washes over me. Just as quickly I sag back down, even without the hand cuffs, I know I'm not built for fighting.
TOMI is gone, it's lonely without his voice in my ear, I feel strangely vulnerable. The last thing he said plays on repeat in my mind, "George, we're in trouble. Deny knowing anything, just hang in there, I'll get you out of this, some how."
I was totally oblivious to the danger, his warning about the trouble came out of the blue. I'd been so engrossed in ripping the label off a used drinks bottle, proud to finally get a label off in one piece, I didn't notice the vans until they screeched to a halt in front of the kiosk. Seems so foolish now, to be distracted by such trivia. I contemplate my fate as I stare down at the pattern of black scrape marks on the floor by my still bare feet.
Delboy and Rodney return, well that's what I'm calling them in my head anyway. "Tell me about the customer in the blue dress." This has been the gist of most of their interrogation, tell me about this or that customer. I can mostly be honest, I really don't remember most of them, my customers that is. Only the odd crazy stories. Business has been booming this past week since TOMI has been part of my life, he does all the remembering for me. Call me lazy, but why bother when customer names, preferences and even native greetings are fed to you in a timely and friendly manner.
I do remember the customer in the blue dress though. Not that I'm planning on telling our friendly interrogator, Rodney, that. She came after the lunchtime rush. TOMI is the reason I remember her. "This is most unusual," He'd been tapping into too many Jeeves and Worcester radio plays and he'd decided taken on the persona of a very wily butler with a plum in his mouth. "Most unusual indeed, I do not happen to recognise this lady's native tongue, it will take a bit of thought to translate. Here she is known as Sue, but has other names elsewhere. Most peculiar."
I served Sue in English and struggled to place her strong accent. TOMI had cracked it by the time I completed the sale, he fed me a word which I presume translated as goodbye. I garbled it out as best I could, struggling to create and link the unfamiliar sounds. She looked at me hard with eyes that seemed to have irises edged in bright purple. I smiled sheepishly, wilting under her unusual glare. She turned and stalked off.
"Forgive me Sir, but I believe we may need to perfect your pronunciation of this particular language. I fear it is not quite up to your usual finesse." TOMI chided. We practiced during the lull, it took much longer than our usual pronunciation practice, but eventually I managed to wrap my tongue around the almost impossible noises that made up the words.
Sue returned the next day, this time in a different blue dress. I proudly greeted her in her native tongue following the sounds fed to me by TOMI. I wasn't perfect, but Sue reacted instantly. She glared at me, fury rolling off her as she hissed back some more of her language. I just followed TOMI with no idea what I was saying, but we had an angrily whispered conversation over the counter. She turned and stormed off, blue dress swinging.
I sat down heavily, somewhat shaken, "What was that about?" I asked TOMI.
"Bizaar, it seems that the language we used should never be used in public, you have just had a full dressing down from someone who seems to be rather high up in their secret society. I will spare you the exact names she called you, but it would be fair to say they were most unladylike!"
That was yesterday, I think, it's hard to know how long I was out for and this cell has nothing to hint at the time of day. Sue did not return, and now I'm here, alone in some secret interrogation cell with no explanation.
Hi guys, thanks for reading. If you enjoyed it, please consider voting, I also really appreciate any feedback and comments. We will leave poor George in his cell until the next time. Have a great week. Rachel x
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/156701670-288-k718747.jpg)
YOU ARE READING
T.O.M.I
Short StoryA short story about Coffee, Aliens and a rather clever little AI. George lives a mediocre life, running a failing little coffee kiosk next to a busy Eurostar station. His world is expanded when he reluctantly accepts TOMI, prototype A.I. device i...