Cognitive Deviance

45. Mission

June 3, 2045 - 8:25 AM

The doors out of the SafeSpace parted ways, the movement accompanied by a deep whir. The lights of the hallway beyond the room greeted Margo like the sun on a new day, and she clenched her eyes shut as the light chased away the darkness. She rose from her seat and stood before the exit, covering her eyes with her arm.

"Thank you for today's session," a soothing voice greeted her in her head. "Psychwatch hopes you feel better after today, and please come again if you need any further support. We will always be here for you."

Margo rolled her eyes. She took one more glimpse at the pitch-black room behind her, hoping the SanityScan would detect her annoyance before her colleagues did. Not that it'd be a problem considering it detected a lot of things before even the most observant human being could. But she instantly regretted the impulsive act once she saw the Scan flash bright red, peering out at her like a monster in the dark as the doors closed shut behind her.

"Don't forget your ThoughtControl piece, Sandoval," Mason reappeared, this time communicating with Margo through a nearby Scan. "You're lucky you don't call too many people with it. Made it easier to review your memories and conversations."

Three beeps emanated behind Margo, and when she looked back, she saw a slot beside the SafeSpace's doors slide open. And there lay her ThoughtControl piece. She took it from the slot and nudged it back into her ear. The slot closed back up again, and Margo marched over to the same Scan where Mason continued to torment her.

"Well excuse me for not having much of a social life," she hissed. "It's kinda hard to maintain one with a profession like this."

"Quit the snark and report to my office," Mason replied again. "Sanger says the two of you have something to show me."

And with that, Margo felt the connection fade from her brain. It made her feel more free, like guilt washing away.

She made her way down the hall, passing by those same portraits of the founders. She remembered Mason comparing her to Cyrus Lynch. People often said he was far more compassionate than his partner, Tetsuo Fujioka. While Fujioka was the one who enforced the militarization of Psychwatch, Lynch brought the core empathy to the foundation. He knew what they had gone through. He faced discrimination for being a bisexual man with obsessive-compulsive disorder, and he wanted to save others from the pain he went through. However, he never saved a special place in his heart for his own well-being. Other people mattered to him more, and his mental health suffered because of that. Then came the day he just suddenly vanished, undetected even by his own creation.

Lynch, Carl, and I are all the same, Margo thought. Just kind folks who will disappear off the face of the earth for seeing our patients for more than just their diagnoses.

The hall was quiet. Margo could hear her footsteps echo throughout as if she were trailing down an uncharted tunnel. Beyond the windows, she could see the Philadelphia skyline towering above her as it always did. The sky seemed like it would never be any other color than gray. The seats and couches around her felt like they were missing people. People she couldn't save. Ones she was too stubborn to ever learn to care about. People she realized were probably suffering more than she did. Their existence undermined her, threw her to the end of the line entering a crowded hospital.

She didn't matter anymore. All that mattered in her mind was what she provided for others.

"Stand clear of the exit please," a robotic voice chirped, and Margo jolted her head to the right to see another SafeSpace crank open. She angrily clenched her fists shut once she caught sight of its occupant.

Jack Holloway, alive and well. Approaching her with a mechanical gait.

"Sandoval!" he greeted, another one of his forced smirks already crossing his face, "It's been a long damn time. Surprised you—"