IN THE ARMS OF MEDUSA
The auditor offered his hand and said, "Josh Halliday. Thanks for letting me sit in, Mr Rheinbeck." Wolfgang Rheinbeck gave it a perfunctory shake and wiped his hand on the leg of his coveralls.
At first glance, Halliday was the youthful idealist he'd been expecting; athletic build, tidy brown hair and a tan that complemented the beige coveralls worn by all staff in the lab. Looking past the exterior, Rheinbeck saw a man who moved with calm assurance and had learned enough to know when his easy charm wouldn't suffice. Rheinbeck smiled. Overconfidence was a cage he loved to rattle.
"First of all," Rheinbeck said ticking off a pale, fleshy finger, "it's Doctor in the lab--we never use surnames. Second, it's not like the Parole Board gave me much choice." "Well, there have been complaints, Doctor." Halliday's tone was reasonable, his frown perplexed, not condemning. Surely this is all just a misunderstanding, his body language said. It only infuriated Rheinbeck all the more.
"From ignorant people who don't understand the intrinsic value of the program," Rheinbeck said with a dismissive flick of one hand. "Does no one appreciate what I'm trying to do here?"
"Of course we do," Halliday said. "The medusa rehabilitation program would never have been funded if it didn't have such promising potential."
"It's about much more than that."
"Then why don't you educate me?" Halliday's smile was a little too fixed.
Rheinbeck sucked his bottom teeth. "So you can decide whether to shut me down or not?"
"Not you, the program. But essentially, yes." Halliday didn't flinch from the accusation in Rheinbeck's voice.
"Well, at least you're honest," Rheinbeck replied. "More than I can say for the Board who withdrew their support at the slightest setback."
"Enduring psychotic behaviours in your subjects is more than just a setback."
Any response to that statement would further incriminate him, so Rheinbeck said nothing.
"Why don't you tell me about medusa?" Halliday nodded towards the ball of three interlocking titanium circles that stood twice the height of an average man. Thin black transceiver boxes peppered the metallic rings, the blinking LED lights resembling electrons orbiting a nucleus. In the centre of the machine, a bright red thermoplast harness was attached to each ring. Thick black straps of reinforced latex dangled from the harness, glistening snakes waiting to coil around the subject.