After the Knowledge

chapter one: ethics & natural sciences

jail jail jail

I was breathing heavily at this point. Trying to catch my breath, I turn to look over the corner to see if I was being followed. He was right there. The dark blue helmet could be spotted from miles away. I watch as the officer walks down the alley I was hiding in. I grab the pocket knife out of my pants and hold it tight; ready to defend myself no matter what. The man slowly walks down checking behind each dumpster as he approaches. “Landon” he says in a menacing voice. There was no way I was going to actually fight this guy, I thought to myself. But I wasn’t going to wait until he saw me, so I made the first move. I turn the corner and punch the man in the face. He’s quick. He comes back and aims for my jaw, but I move his hand in time. He grabs his electric baton from his side and swings in an attempt to hit me. I am able to dodge to the best of my ability, but he aims low and brushes my leg. I wince and kneel in pain. He goes to move the baton on my back when I grab the nearest pole and twist his baton around to hit the man himself. He screams as he gets electrocuted and falls to the ground unconscious. I look at him as I slowly get back up. I won’t be stopped this time. I will free the people from this system.

“Prisoner #2187, Keila Flora”. This was my number. I get up from my seat on the wall and walk over to the big steel double doors. My heart is racing as I wait for the doors to open. I don’t want my punishment to be severe. As the doors begin to open, I see a room filled with scientists and the infamous brain machine in the middle. The guard pushes me forward as I walk to the machine. I like to call it the “Death Machine” but it’s true name is called “The National Prison Brain Scanner”. I hate this so much. I reach the scanner and the man sits me down. My arms are strapped down as he places the scanner above my head. “Prisoner #2187, Keila Flora, do you understand that the results of this brain scan will determine the punishment you will receive for commiting the act of robbery and assault?” I nod my head. “And do you accept the fact that the results will be final?” I hesitantly nod again. The judge neuroscientist sits down and begins the scans. All the results of the scan are shown on 4 big screens in the room; one being right in front of me. As I hear the machine work, I see some scans appear on the screen, but I don’t know what they completely mean. This continues for about 20 minutes until the machine completely stops. The room is silent for a minute, but it feels like an eternity. “Prisoner #2187, Keila Flora. After scans of your brain, we have not identified any significant damage or brain alteration that would cause you to commit the act of robbery and assault. Based on the rules of your brain structure and the severity of the crime committed, we have concluded that you have committed a level 3 crime. Punishable with 10 years in prison.” No, no, no this is not happening. “What?” I scream. 10 years! They do not even take into account what the situation actually was. “This is outrageous. There is no sense of morality here!” I fight to get out of the chair but the guard holds me down. “This isn’t fair!” I wince as I feel a sharp object penetrate my right arm. I stop struggling and just like that, I pass out.

I wake up in a van. I look down to see my hands are handcuffed and I hit my head against the headrest in annoyance. I can only imagine I am on my way to the island prison, otherwise I’d already be in a cell. It’s really dark out, maybe around 10 at this point. The car holts and I look out the window to see that the main road is under construction. “We’ll go the long way” One of the officers says. The long way; this will be a long ride. He turns right and we go down a dimly lit street. Then the car stops again. Now what. The officer looks over into a small alleyway,“Look, it looks like a Dark Guard. And he looks like he got attacked!” The other officer answers “Let’s check it out. You don’t try anything.” They walk out and slowly approach the guard. I turn my head to see a dark figure running across the street. He looks like he’s hiding. I look over at the officers who are still in the alley. I bang on my window in an attempt to grab the man’s attention. It seems to have worked. He looks over and seems unsure about whether he wants to come over or not. Please, please, please. He quickly runs over and glances at the officers in the alley. “Please help me get out of here. They’re wrong, so wrong for putting me here.” He looks around and grabs a small knife from out of his pocket. He places it in the door handle and breaks it open. The door unlocks and he takes me through a small archway in one of the alleys. “What? Where is she? Pan out we will find her!” The officer is filled with rage, but his voice fades as we move farther away.