And getting closer to the end of book 2:

me too

  The psychologist's diagnosis had been 'post-adolescent
trauma mismanagement.' But try to think of one person who's
never experienced *that.* Really, the problem was just extreme goal-
oriented thinking, which had grown like cancer to unacceptable
and unhealthy In

in

proportions.

Heh. Nice way to put it.

thanks, actually im gonna drop the 'in' altogether.

  More of my memory had come marching back with my
calmness. Just dispersed images and sensations, though. I knew
that I had close friends; Zig, Chris, and others. They were out there
right now, free and wondering where I was. I wanted to surprise
them, my friends, and assuage their concerns. I wanted to fight
alongside them, and win with them. Since I had been in here, I had
adopted that witless romantic view of my outside world, as it was
now so distant and removed. I just wanted things to be the way
they were before, however that had happened to be.

Heh. Too true, The 'Good Old Days' were never as good as we like to think

of

them.

yeah, but remembering them usually brightens them for you, and this is good.
The body taking care of it self.

  Except that I wasn't exactly lonely. Just as I had a desire to
be with the people who knew me-perhaps better than I knew
myself

In some ways that's always true for everyone. Different perspectives

provide

information from different viewpoints.

i just meant that friends are sometimes an iffy thing, psychologically.
because much of what we say and do around our friends is basically
lipservice, yet mixed with bits of deep truth, a man in poor shape like
screw here who is just starting to distrust his memories and his instincts,
thinking them possibly fake, would have a lot of problems with his memories
of close friends. He cant try to block them out, because they are the crutch
hes leaning on. But as he begins to think that his memories are lying to
him, buttering him up just to keep him happy, in a place where he needs to
work only with reliable facts he can use as future weapons, he is faced with
a serious problem. This is why he went into this dialogue, complaining about
his inability to make informed decisions. Hes sort of bitching to no one in
particualr, the way we all do.

-there was another desire to stay as far away from them as

I could. They knew my secrets and yet somehow it didn't matter to
them. That is a very special situation in life. They knew the good
and the bad and had internalized it without deeming me unworthy.

Or they're just as big of scumbags as you are, in which case it's good
company since you won't cast aspirations at them since you're in the same
boat they are. :)

yes, thats the other option he hopes is true, but doesnt want to jinx and
ruin by over thinking it

  What I did know was that I felt I knew something about
mechanics and maybe the arts. A little form, mostly function. This
did not seem to place me in any one vocation, but was significant
none the less.

nonetheless (one word)

i knew that

  The somber whirlpool of images disappeared with a hiss
and a sigh, and my eyes opened slowly. Something was different.
Sitting up, it was not that I couldn't see my reflections in the
mirrors; they followed where ever

whereever (I think. Not so sure here)

looked wrong to me when i wrote it so i changed it

  But then another sub-audible trembled and I felt the floor
faintly shake. Somewhere not too far away from the building I was
in, something heavy was either falling to the floor or crashing into
something else. More distant rumbles came, and I could not
distinguish a pattern in them. Regardless, the cell was definitely
moving.

Hmm. Wonder if the attacks went off as planned.

somewhat

  When I was ready to lie down and sleep again, one of my
reflections moved without the others doing so, and this time I just
sat still and watched. The entire opposite wall slowly shifted to the
left, and opened a foot-wide crack in my cell. Outside: undiluted
darkness and empty space. Not quite believing it, I did not move.

Hmm.

  "What...do you...remember?" This was not a question you
asked people who were in full possession of their faculties. He was
behind my amnesiated state, and knew it.

  "Who are you?" I asked without answering his question.

  "Why am I here?"

Assuming that line was from Screw, ditch the line break.

yeah, more .doc to .txt formatting probs. (which is why i recommend reading
this stuff off the page)

  "Do you know who *you* are?"

  "Of course," I lied, suddenly emboldened.

  "Good...The rest will...come back to you later. I...am
White, the Director of the Institute of Mental...Health Research,
though it is a meaningless position. Your

You

are in a

government...facility underground. No one knows you are here.
This...chamber is necessary for restoring your proper...memory; it
was reprogrammed in haste..." He paused constantly to take those
deep, seemingly unnecessary breaths. One, two, one, two, one,
two. I kept waiting for this breathing cycle to end, but it continued
like a metaphorical second heartbeat feeding his volition.

Heh. Nice.

was this clear? tried to get surreal and write things i can only imagine
vaguely

  "But wait!" As I spoke, the mirror behind them slid on it's

its

track to the left, and so opened a crack. The taller man who had not
said a word the whole time left first, and then White followed him
out. I stood up, and got ready to rush after them, but White
whispered something to me over his bony shoulder, and my body
froze.

  "You can't leave me-" I tried.

White said that, I assume.

said what? "You can't leave me-" ? That was screw. He wants out of the cell.

  When I finally stirred and sat up, they were there. Again
standing side by side

side-by-side

  Rufius. That name rung a bell. An image of a young man
from when I was another young man flashed through my head,
though I was unable to nail down any features. But if White's taller
twin was him, then I was probably wrong about it completely.

Heh. Ironically it probably is the same one.

sometimes you have to use the standard allusions

  "I am sorry to hear that," I said, not sounding sorry.

  "There is disorder in the city...Earlier today there was
mass...rioting...and terrorists set off bombs in government
buildings...The capitol building was leveled. Many...Mandate
Directors were killed and taken...hostage by the terrorists.
Murderers and Terrorists

Screw: Yeah, a lot of people say that about the Directors.

White: That's not what I meant.

  White stepped forward, and said with thick disgust, "You
aren't going to be part of any deals, ant. One in your position can
only hope to agree...at every opportunity or Rufius will dissolve
you... Like salt."

Screw: Then we both lose, since I have something he wants, and I doubt if
it's to be put on his food.

white clearly isnt the brains of this operation

  It took a few minutes for my eyes to adjust to the lower
light in the hall White carried me down. It had stark walls of
concrete, and small pipes running overhead. We passed through a
small room which had computers sitting on tables, but there were
no people working them. The whole place was raw. We took an
elevator down several floors, and when we exited it, the warehouse
d�cor had not changed. We traversed great distances of rooms and
hallways, all void

devoid (I think would be better in this case)

right

  "I held...you in thrall. Your atp's

Are they really called atp, or is it an acronym? If an acronym, probably
should be ATP

atp's are the hormones that cause muscle contraction, e.g. allowing you to
move intentionally. Probably ATP's, i guess.

  I tried to figure how to put it so that it would seem
believable, and came up with, "It's a long story.

Probably the safest answer.

  He put down his mopped and started walking back toward
his bucket. "I'm the Sexton," he said over his shoulder. "I clean up
all the crap that gets left around in here."

Ah. So he is important after all, despite appearances.

well hes a character. wait till you finish book 2.

  "Nah. A car with no windows picks me up every morning,
and drops me off at my home every night. The car doesn't even
have a god damn driver. It just speeds around on its own, and takes
me here, where I work my ass off cleaning things which are
already clean. I don't know any more about this place than you."

Weird.

you have to take this stuff metaphorically

  I got off the table I had been sitting on and said, "Well at
least tell me this. Are they going to off me or experiment on me or
what? I mean, I don't have a clue how I got here. I must have been
kidnapped or something, and

can drop that comma, I think

  I knew nothing really.

nothing, really (Again I think)

 I was working with a broken

machine. What I did know was that the door to this room was now
open, and calling my name. With a look over both shoulders, I
walked around the Sexton's slippery-when-wet floor, and peered
out the door into the long, long hallway we had come down earlier.
It was dimly lit, and the pipes running under the ceiling were
letting off steam. But I distinctly saw the tiny form of a woman
walking toward me,

White's daughter, no doubt

we have a winner

  She was wearing a black long-sleeved shirt with straight
leather pants. High cheekbones, full lips, and a look of intelligence.
Her beautiful brown hair was let loose over her shoulders, and the
whole effect was enough to make me gasp.

Probably her intent

and another

  I didn't know what to say. She looked like she knew me. If
she knew me than I probably knew her. I really hoped so. I
resolved myself to ask as soon as I felt the right moment.
She stepped forward and said, "Then if my calculations are
correct," and socked me in the jaw with strength inconsistent with
her distinctly feminine appearance. Maybe she was the man's
daughter. I flashed a look of surprise and went down for the count.
Colors swirled. Funny that no one had tried it before.

Heh. Nice way to subdue him, I guess.

Interesting. The mystery deepens. Prose flowed well and I tore right

through

it.

so keep tearing!

Hopefully will get to 12 before too long. Nice work.

D.B. Sommer

thanks. I await your next comments. Im probably gonna post 3.3 today, keep
an eye out. Later.


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