Cognitive Deviance

40. Officer Maslow

May 27, 2045 - 8:00 AM

"Happy Birthday to me," Carl sang quietly to himself as he sat as his table. A cupcake rested in front of him, a single candle emanating an orange glow in the middle of his shrouded apartment. He nervously adjusted the sleeves on his jacket, offering an additional glance at the LED ring that would forever remind him of things he couldn't escape.

"Can't believe it's been fifty years!" Catalina spoke through him, his voice heightening in pitch. "Look how far you've come, Carl!"

"No, Catty," he replied in his regular voice. "Look how far we have come. You, me, Vince, and anyone else still in here."

"It's a shame you couldn't bring the Sandovals or your family over this year. Psychwatch can be so rude sometimes."

"It's for the best. Margo always calls me a little later to wish me a happy birthday anyway."

"I just hope this goes well. Psychwatch has been so good to us all these years. I'd hate to see them suddenly declare us their enemy."

Carl always had that faint grin on him, a self-reminder that life could always get better, no matter what obstacles got in his way. But the thought of what Catalina had said made it vanish like mist.

He nearly leaped out of his chair when he heard a booming knock at his door.

"Showtime," he whispered, and he blew out his candle and marched over to his door.

He was greeted by Mason, Andrade, and three other Psychwatch officers whose faces remained hidden behind opaque helmets. The unknown officers carried large metal suitcases lined with silver lights, while Andrade stood with her Fatemaker clutched in both hands.

"Buenos días, Maslow," Andrade greeted. "Are you ready?"

"Come on in," Carl replied, and he moved over to the side, letting his fellow officers pass. The final doctor-cop entering the room glanced at him longer than usual, whatever thoughts they had protected by the black wall of plastic hiding their face.

"Why don't you turn some lights on, Maslow?" Andrade asked. "It's too damn dark in here. Not good for your eyes."

"I just like to keep my curtains open during the morning," Carl replied, following his fellow officers through his kitchen. "Natural light is healthier than all this fluorescent stuff around town, y'know."

He swallowed back fear when his apartment suddenly grew silent. When he marched out of his kitchen, he found the officers standing around his dining room table for three, positioned against the wall like a restaurant booth. Another shiver went down his spine once he realized they were all staring at him. The cowardly ones wouldn't even need to take off their helmets to show Carl their piercing gazes. He already knew what they were doing.

"A little early for sweets, isn't it?" Andrade asked, her robotic hand positioned beside the cupcake.

"It's my birthday," Carl replied as sheepish as a child. "Just...celebrating on my own."

"Well, Happy Birthday, Maslow." And the masked officers repeated the same.

Mason, however, remained silent, taking a seat at the table. "Take your jacket off," she ordered.

Carl nervously looked down. He wore his iconic Psychwatch jacket ordained with silver lights and emblazoned with the Greek letter psi on his back. As he took it off, he could feel some of his confidence withering away like a rotting corpse. He hung it from a chair at the dining room table before taking a seat in front of Mason.

He glanced down at his cupcake, but Mason ordered, "Save it for later." He nudged it to the side of the table. "Where's your ThoughtControl piece?" she continued.