The room was dark and cold. Only a single light shone in a tightly focused beam from the ceiling to the hard metal table onto which a single man in his 30s was fixed with leather straps and cold metal beams.
“If you do not want to talk, then we will send for a specialist!”. 605 was unnerved. It was in no sense simple to use brute force to get people talking. But they needed answers. Before him lay the interviewed nude and fixed on one of the trays of the interrogation room.
“No, please, I do not know anything”
Heavy boots walked towards the door, opened it and 605 left the room.
The light in the room went out and white noise flooded the room. Otherwise there was no change in the room. While procedural law allowed for suspects and possible informers to be interrogated with advanced techniques, it was clear that even such a treatment did not always bring results. They were in a hurry and the courts would of cause not have a problem with a clinical application of pain. But it was always about the results. 605 though to himself when he marched down the heavy concrete corridor towards the next interrogation room.
It was not clear how much time had passed.
The door opened again, lights went on and a cart was wheeled in.
Another guardsman walked up to the to witness from the head end of the cold table.
“So, it’s you?”
“Yeah! Let me out of here!”
“Let’s see. It depends on your answers, citizen.”
“I do not know anything.”
“We will check this very closely, citizen.”
Gently the interrogator stroked with his rubber gloved hand over the cheek to the interview.
“Such a survey can be very pleasant, but also very painful. We shouldn’t forget to tell you about this. You know this one is not such a big fan of pain, more of gentle pleasure”
“Just as questions and I’ll try to answer them.”
“Do you know what pain medicine is?”
A slight tingle could be felt by the interviewee as some medicine was sprayed onto the skin at the lower arm.
“This one has sprayed that onto your skin. Well it is not exactly a pain killing medicine. You know since the secrets of human nerves have been discovered, we have medication that can block pain but also stuff that can improve the transmission of what you feel.”
Gently the interrogation guardsman stroked over the arm.
“Does this feel good?”
“Seriously?” the gentle stroking continued.
“Well then we have to try how the pain feels, don’t we?”
The interrogator rammed a needle in the vene of the suspect. The arm would have been withdrawn but it was fixed.
The pain was steep and intense. But then it stopped and was replaced b just a simple burning and a liquid dripped into a vein.
“So a little bit of fluids. How long have you been here? … Oh, this one forgot the room is dark and there is no clock.” Some diabolic laughter followed.
The door to the interview room opened again and 605 entered the room.
“Report.” was the only word that 605 mention. The interrogation specialist came to attention and reported:
“The suspect has been prepared, we can now start to administer the necessary dosages of pain to make him talking.”
The questioning had been without any real results. At least you could be sure that with the advanced interrogation techniques a normal civilian male would more or less open and tell everything as soon as he had experienced a little bit of the pain he told them what he knew. Unfortunately the guy didn’t know anything. But well. So eventually they decided to just let him get back to the others they had been finished with questioning. There a guardsman gave them back their clothes and even handed them a leaflet with information where they could find help if they experienced anxiety due to their treatment. People could call a hotline and get advice. It was easy to get counseling in such a humanist society as the Union state was.
033 slowly woke up again. It was difficult, he felt pain. He couldn’t open his eyes for some reason and it felt difficult to move. He felt that someone was standing next to him.
“Who are you?”
“This is guardsman D- 8007-399-033.”
“What is your name?”
“This guardsman tag number is 8007-399-033”
“What is your name?”
“Guardsman do not have any name, we serve under a number… Why can’t I open my eyes?”
“I’m asking the questions here.”
“What is your name?”
“This is a guardsman we are numbered.”
“You were born a human being like everyone, you had a name.”
“This one was born citizen and is Guardsman now… Please can this one have something to drink?”
“Maybe later…. So do you remember your name?”
“There is no need to remember the name. Tag number is sufficient for identification of Guardsman”
“Tell us your civilian name!”
“This is impossible”
“Tell us your civilian name”
“This is not possible”
“Maybe we can increase your willingness to cooperate…” 033 felt how his left finger was pressed very tightly and painfully. It was painful. But he tried to resist. The pain increased.
“This one will not cooperate under pain.”
“We shall see.”
The pain increased. Suddenly the pain stopped.
“Maybe you would be willing to answer other questions… Why have you been in the house?”
“Please, let me talk to the guard. You will be rewarded if you bring me back alive.”
Again he felt pain, this time as if from a pain stick. That was awkward, because pain sticks don’t work through the nano rubber material of the one piece guard uniform.
“This one cannot tell you.”
He woke up again, a warm stream of fluid was falling into his face and he was coughing, some of the warm fluid was in his lungs.
“Guardsman D- 8007-399-033, we will bring you back to the Guard if you answer our questions.”
033 wondered if this was actually a test. This was so like the concours he had to pass when he applied for his promotion to become a D. They had treated him in the test center like this as well. But he had passed he had remained steadfast and strong.
“What have you been doing in the house?”
“This guard will not answer such questions. This is Guardsman D- 8007-399-033 take me to the Guard, you will be rewarded”
Pain, there was pain again from the pain stick. He became unconscious again.
033 became awake again. But opening his eyes was impossible. As if they were closed by some force. Someone was touching his chest and feeling it. Then the same pair of hands moved downwards towards his stomach. His body was felt and touched and measured. He was not sure what was outside. He heard voices. People were talking about him. It was not sure about what they were talking. He hands moved downwards no feeling his codpiece and the buttplug underwear. Then they moved down his right leg and his left leg. Where was he? He felt nauseous.
A women’s voice said: “Ok there seems to be no injuries, you should not have tortured him.”
“We needed to ask this questions…. Let’s remove the uniform.”
033 tried to speak. Removing a uniform without the permission of GUMS was nearly impossible. There were seals that had to be opened. He tried to say No.
“Give me the tool”, a mans voice said. Someone pressed a metallic feeling tool on the left side of the collar of his rubber suit. Then a slight whirring sound could be heard.
“Ok, move down, yes, like this.”
He felt how the cutting tool was making small incisions, then bigger cuts into the rubber. Was he in a a guard facility and his suit damaged? But why the woman’s voice. Was he in hospital? Slowly more and more of the rubber was peeled off. What had happened to him? Where did this people get the cutting tool? And why did they know how to use it?
He tried to speak. But only a cracking noise escaped from his mouth. The women’s fingers gently stroked his shoulder and comforted him. Was she a nurse. His vision was not clear.
Eventually his chest and arms were free of the rubber uniform.
“Do you see the tattoo?”
“Yes, they tattoo the numbers onto the chest. Kind of marking the property. Not very humanistic, isn’t it?”
Why did they object to his number tattoo? This couldn’t be people in Guard facility, every Guardsman was proud to carry the mark of his service. He felt tired and weak. Someone pushed a needle into the vein of his right arm. The women held him gently.
The seal to the gloves was opened and the gloves removed. He felt how his arms were attached to something and he was not able to move them anymore.
“Wow, that guy is well developed.”
“Yeah, they muscle them up in the guard, but this one is really kinda a hunk but really athlete”
Then they continued to cut from first the left leg, then the right leg until they had reached his boots. Even there they managed to open the seal of the heavy boots and removed them. Then removing the remaining shreds of his rubber suit was only matter of couple of minutes. Now he was naked except his underwear.
The buttplug and codpiece still kept his penis secure for the Guard and his husband.
“What is this?”, the women’s voice asked.
“Oh that is what they consider underwear, the rear part goes into their butt, it is butt plug and the front part encloses all their Penis and makes them nicely controllable. But we will remove it.”
No he didn’t want to have his buttplug removed and his groin guard. What where these people thinking.
Eventually another tool was applied. The connection between both parts was cut. Then he noticed movement and felt how his buttplug defeated. With some movement it was taken out unceremoniously and not really genteel. When his brothers put them in every morning they were much more gentel with this.
Then they started working on his codpiece. He felt how the penisclamp opend and then the piece was removed. He started peeing.
“Why is he peeing?”
“The Earcomputer controls these functions, but now there is none, so nothing controls hit.”
“Are all of them like this?”
“We assume, yes.”
A cold thing was pressed between his legs and his penis moved into it. He peed into a bottle.
Then hands dried him and the bottle was removed.
Where was his earpiece, he defiantly didn’t feel it stick in his ear. Without it there would be no connection to the GUMS. No voice in his ear soothing, comforting, telling him what to do. He was lost and lonely. And how had it been removed. GUMS earpieces didn’t just fall out, they were locked to ones ear.
“So what do we do to him now?”
“Well I just let the rest of the fluids run into the vein and then we give him something to sleep, put a cover on him and let him rest, tomorrow he will wake up.”
“Can he hear us now?”
“The dosage is not so high, yes, I mean he has opened the eyes and so on.”
“Let me talk to him.”, the women’s voice said. “It will make the transition easier”
“OK, if you think so”.
“You are ok and in safety. There was a small wound from the explosion of the building you were in. We stitched that up. You have been unconscious but now you are on the road to recovery. We will help you.”
Something cold and burning ran up his arm, he felt even weaker and more tired. He passed out.
*** This story is set in the guard universe. For an introduction into the world the guardsman live in see: The Making of (c)F-7985-656-882 If you are interested in other stories from the guard universe go to: https://theguardsmanblog.wordpress.com/2015/09/26/the-guardsman-making-of-a-8007-399-033-chapter-1/ I’m also very eager to get email from you, please contact me: firstname.lastname@example.org