The Twelve Days

[Saturday, 18 December, 2258 | A Christmas Chat]

“Hey, Nanny.  What’s the time?” It is only about the hundredth time Virginia has asked that question today.

And for about the hundredth time, Nanny answers.  “It’s 3:45pm, Virginia.”

The first answer Nanny gave to that question this morning was “It’s 1:30am, Virginia.” Doing a sum in her head, Virginia guesses—incorrectly—that she has been stuck in the chair for about eleven hours, trying to free herself.

“Hey, Nanny. What’s the time?”

“It’s 4:25pm, Virginia.”

“It’s 5:00pm, Virginia.”

“It’s 5:53pm, Virginia.”

“It’s 7:10pm, Virginia.”

“It’s 8:26pm, Virginia.”

“It’s 9:14pm, Virginia.”

“It’s 9:42pm, Virginia.”

“It’s 10:11pm, Virginia.”

“It’s 10:58pm, Virginia.”

Virginia is fighting to stay awake.  She has no desire to be conscious, but cannot stand the thought of the foghorn blaring in her head the minute she dozes off.  Thankfully, something finally happens, giving the girl the tiny burst of adrenaline she needs to keep going: her cell door screeches open, and through it steps Ms. Nagal.

Virginia hears her keeper tapping away at her screen, then is suddenly blinded by a spotlight shining down from the ceiling.  After days in the dark, the young girl thought she would be appreciative of some light, but now her vision is blurred, with sunspots bouncing around her periphery.

“Do you accept your Nanny chip?” Ms. Nagal asks.

“No.”  Virginia is resolute.

“Do you accept they are good for humanity?”

“I don’t know.  But they’re not good for me.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want to be free.”

Virginia is surprised to see Ms. Nagal smiling.  Based on all their interactions up until now, she had never considered it possible.  More surprising to Virginia, however, is hearing Ms. Nagal’s laugh—an eerie cackle that would put the greatest pantomime villains to shame.

“Girl, with that attitude, you’ll never be free.  You can either leave here at the end of the camp, or you can end up locked in prison for the remainder of your life.”

“I’ll still be freer than you,” Virginia says with a glower.  She’s not entirely sure of what her words meant, but they sounded right in her head.

Those words were apparently right enough to hit a nerve.  Ms. Nagal clenches her fist, and slams the back of her hand into Virginia’s face, toppling the restraint chair and convincing the girl that the enhancements given to the woman include a titanium endoskeleton.

Ms. Nagal turns off the light and exits Virginia’s cell.  The girl’s hand is zapped, an electric current stinging her palm.  She turns her hand over and sees a blinking red light.  Her desire for freedom has just earned her a major infraction.