Ben Bedard - The World Without Flags

“I ain’t going near her,” Randy says, shooting a horrified glance my way. “Not until you wire her jaw shut.”

“Yes, I'm well aware of your phobia,” the Doctor responds drily.

Randy looks like he’s going to respond angrily, but instead he just shrugs and shows his horse teeth in some strange parody of a smile.

When the Doctor takes out his keys to open the cell door, Randy takes a step back, his smile fading. The Doctor comes in and stands in front of me with the same appraising eyes as always, empty, dark, inscrutable. He gives me one of his empty smiles. “Let me see here,” he says, and then puts his hand on my head. It’s all I can do not to jerk away in horror, but, remembering Eric, I just let him do what he wants. He pushes my head back.

“Ergh,” I say.

Randy laughs. “That’s more than she usually says alive.”

The Doctor holds my jaw and gently presses it open. I can feel him staring into my mouth. When he releases my jaw, he looks deep into my eyes. It’s almost impossible to keep my eyes from focusing and moving, but somehow I keep them under control. Finally the Doctor steps back and says, “She’s turned very gently.”

I let my jaw fall open, and then hunch forward a little, putting my left shoulder higher as I’ve seen Eric do a hundred times.

“Listen,” Randy says, the impatience obvious in his voice. “We have to get this going. We have to meet Raymond by tomorrow. Get your samples so we can get on the road.”

Doctor Bragg turns toward Randy. I don’t see his face, but I can hear his disapproval. “You should call him President Barber,” he says.

“Don’t worry,” Randy scoffs. “I know what to call him.”

Taking me by the arm, Doctor Bragg leads me out of the room. “I would still prefer we stay out of this war,” he says. “It seems to me we can get plenty of subjects without involving these people.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Randy hisses. “How long do you think we can go around infecting people without them catching on? Huh?” As they talk, they’re leading me out of the room. I follow in the awkward steps of the infected.

“As I’ve said before,” Doctor Bragg argues, “I believe infecting whole populations is wasteful. We could very well do this one by one. Involving these armies seems dangerous.”

I can tell by their tones that they’ve had this argument several times before. “Look,” Randy says in an exasperated tone. “You want to find out how to kill the Worm, don’t you?”

“Yes.” The clipped word has venom in it.

“Well,” Randy says, “this will give you all the freedom you want, trust me. You need to experiment on people, you’re going to need an army. Like I’ve told you a thousand times. You can’t hide it forever. This war was lucky for us. It gives us freedom to work.”

They lead me through the door and into the hallway that leads to the operating room, research space, whatever it is. Careful to keep my jaw hanging open, I think furiously of a way to escape. I have to be patient, wait for the perfect time. I’ll only have this one chance. One opportunity. If Doctor Bragg finds out that I’ve already had the Worm and survived, I don’t even want to contemplate what he’ll do to me. But I have to be patient. I have to wait.

Randy walks ahead of us and opens the door, holding it for us as we pass. When I move by him, he grimaces and turns away. I’d like nothing more than to snap at him, even bite him, give him the scare of his life, but that would give it all away. After we pass, I hear Randy behind us shut the door. “You really need me for this?” he asks.

Doctor Bragg positions me in front of the chair and lets me go. I’m standing where Squint stood yesterday. I can see the door to the outside where Eric and I escaped last time. Everything in me wants to sprint for the door, throw it open, and run for the river, but I beat the feeling down. I could easily get caught. I only have this one chance or I’m dead. With Doctor Bragg, I’m way worse than dead, I’m a living experiment. It takes all my determination to keep from trembling.

“No, I don’t need you,” the Doctor answers, looking back to Randy, who is standing far from me. “I want you to tell me what is happening, why we are meeting President Barber, why we are moving from here.” The Doctor stands up and faces Randy, his face a blank. “You never tell me what is happening until it has already happened.”

Randy crosses his arms, looking at him. Then he smiles his toothy smile. “It works out, doesn’t it?” He throws his hand toward me like I was a chair or a table, just some object he was able to find.

“That is not the point,” Doctor Bragg says flatly.

Randy laughs. “It kind of is the point though,” he says. “Look, you’re good at this.” Randy points at me. “And I’m good at everything else. You lost her, I found her. I wanted her to die with the rest at Cairo, but this is even better, isn’t it? You do your thing, I do my thing. It works out for us, let’s not change things now.”

“It disturbs me that you are so reluctant to share your plans.”

Randy studies him and then shifts from one foot to the other. Doctor Bragg doesn’t move. He just stands there, eyes fixed on Randy, his back straight, his long face emotionless and disturbingly steady. As they focus on each other, I study what I can of the room without moving my eyes. On the chair next to me, where I was strapped down the day before, I see an aluminum tray. On it glimmers a scalpel and several glass tubes, some of which are filled with some dark liquid. I can almost feel the scalpel in my hand.

“Yeah, all right,” Randy says to the Doctor suddenly. “I’ve convinced the Stars that the Gearheads have been spreading the Worm. They’ll give you all the people you need to find the cure for the Worm that they think the Gearheads are spreading. You’ll have all you need. I’ll make sure of that.”

Doctor Bragg is silent, thinking. After a moment, he says, “Good. Thank you.”

As the two eye each other, I study the scalpel. It’s only a couple feet from me. I could have it in a flash, and, before the two were even aware I wasn’t infected, I could slash the scalpel down Randy’s face and then slice out at Doctor Bragg. Then I could run for the door. But I doubt I could move fast enough. All it would take was one of them to be a little quicker, to grab me, force the scalpel from my hand, and I would be caught. By the end of the day, Doctor Bragg would have me sliced open like a fish on his surgical table. I have to be patient. I have to wait for my time.

Doctor Bragg comes back to me, turning away from Randy. He turns my head to one side. His hands are strangely warm on my neck, hot and dry as a desert. His face is so close to mine, I can smell warm eggs on his breath. Over the Doctor’s shoulder, as he examines me, Randy watches us. His face is filled with disgust and scorn. Then the Doctor pushes my head back. With a movement of his hand, his gently shuts my jaw. Then, urging me forward with a slight push, he makes me stand next to the chair. He tilts my head to the side, and I can feel him looking into my ear. I can’t see Randy anymore, but I feel him glaring at us. I hear the sound of the scalpel being taken from the aluminum tray, and a shudder of horror moves up my body before I can stop it.

“Ergh,” I say, to hide my terror. The Doctor puts a hand on my shoulder almost tenderly, as if to comfort me.

“No worms yet,” he says and makes a snapping sound with his tongue. Doctor Bragg turns to Randy. “It means I’ve caught it before the worms have had a chance to colonize the auditory nerve.”

“So?” Randy says. He sounds like a petulant teenager who refuses to admit that knowledge is useful.