Ninety-four: Years

A mask blowing cool dry air was held over my face and I held onto it thankfully, breathing deep the oxygen. The dizziness and nausea faded. My brain felt like a weighty fog had lifted. Just when I was starting to feel better, the air flow was reduced to a trickle.

"Oxygen is expensive," Dr Eisor said, looking down at me. "I may be very, very rich, but one still has to be careful. Each delivery increases my chances of being found exponentially, so you will just have to make do with a bit every now and then when the altitude sickness hits you too hard. Over time, you'll get used to the thinner air."

Looking around, I saw many slave girls sitting or standing around watching. The room walls had been softened with tapestries and furs to help trap the heat in and I could see into another room where many beds lined up in a row through a doorway. The room we were in now had two operating tables, as well as a long dining table with chairs. There were ledges and perches against the rocky wall on which a myriads of slave girls sat or reclined with minimal apparel. Weren't they cold?

"As you can see," Dr Eisor waved a hand. "It is quite cosy up here. There's not enough space and a few too many mouths to feed. My hydroponics system can only produce so much. What you see is my last batch of slaves. They'll be sold soon. I couldn't bear to kill them. The others," he waved an angry arm, sweeping downward, "down there have killed enough of my girls as it is in trying to undo what I have done. I've told them before. It can't be undone. Not even by me. Look what happened to you the last time they tried to force me to do it. They're experimenting on some of my girls and trying to replicate my technology, but in reality, they're killing them. Did you know that? When you go back to Kiran, make sure you find a way to stop them. I'm a doctor. Doctor's don't kill. I heal. I improve. I protect my country. I do not kill. This technology was first developed by my great great grandfather as a means to control the rebellious slaves or members of our population. Also to control our enemies. There are versions for males and females, you know, but the males stay hidden. More of them die during the procedure and they are very rare commodities. My family has improved on the technology and processes over the years. Now we have very few side effects or deaths to the implants. You were one of the exceptions who has an allergy to the Crippler."

Dr Eisor sat heavily in a chair and turned off my oxygen flow, while he kept talking. I swallowed the growing symptoms again, just trying to take deep breaths.

"Now that they have abolished the slave trade here, it doesn't mean it's stopped. The slaves have no where else to go and can't remember anything else. They have nothing else they can do, so people secretly keep or take them in, and things will continue as they have been. At least for now. You are still one of a kind. You're the first slave who hasn't died during removal of the bomb or the Crippler, despite our lack of anaesthetic at the time. I'm sorry about that, darling, by the way. It was operate or watch you die. You also remain the only one of your prototype. Once I've fixed your legs, it'll be another prototype - another first of its kind. Don't let anyone got their hands on that new technology in you, will you? I haven't got the time or resources to replicate it again. In fact, I'm done with making slaves, now that Boskyland is at peace once more. They don't want or need me anymore. In fact, I do believe I'm wanted by the international police. Quite a compliment, don't you think?"

I just blinked, not quite understanding what the doctor was getting at. He sighed.

"I forget that you haven't been too well yourself. You've only just pulled through and started recovering your mind, if I'm not wrong. So, tell me, now you're married, have you and Kiran properly tied the knot?"

Shrugging, I lifted my palms to the ceiling. I had no idea. Knowing what a gentleman Kiran was, probably not. It seemed like Dr Eisor understood.

"That boy," he grumbled, "has too much self control. He hasn't even touched you in that way, has he? He married you while you were still out of it, despite your parents' protests, but he's probably waiting for your permission before he actually consummates the marriage. There's something wrong with him. Honestly. Why go through all that trouble if he's not going to do you, so that I can find out how my newest prototype has turned out. It's been years! I've been waiting for years. He's been waiting for years. He's such an idiot. I did this for him. He's the man with the greatest potential and he still has my full loyalty. In spite of his idiotic love choice."

Years? What years? How many years?

"Yes, darling. Years. Don't look so shocked. I suppose you didn't realise quite how much time has passed, do you? Everything probably still feels quite recent for you. Three years, darling. Three years."

Three years? What have I been doing for three years?

There was a slight look of sympathy on the doctor's face and his voice softened.

"I don't know if I can help you regain your voice, but I'm pretty sure I can help you with your legs. So, off with those clothes. Give us another year and I'll have you walking back into Kiran's arms. It'll depend on how you react to the therapies I'm going to try. I've never really done this before in a person, so who knows what might happen?"

Another year? It was going to take that long?

"Girls."

Dr Eisor clicked his fingers and the slave girls grabbed hold of me and undressed me in spite of my struggles. Carrying me away, they showered me, dried me and plonked me on one of the surgical tables. They held me down while Dr Eisor put a mask blowing gas over my face, until I slipped under.