He looked at the screen again, and the woman repeated what she had just stated, “Kadamba Vorhoor, your processing will begin in a few moments.” The face appeared frozen for a few moments, and then cheerfully began again. “As a first-time client of the Purostinov Justice Processing Center, I will gladly walk you through the initial steps of your first processing.”
“Are you a recording or a real person?” Kadamba asked the screen. The woman appeared to look at Kadamba, almost seeming to lose her cheerful demeanor, but immediately began speaking again as a box appeared below the screen, materializing out of the wall.
“Please remove your clothes and place them in the bin,” declared the perky woman on the screen with another fake smile.
With a laugh, Kadamba responded, “I don’t think so, lady. My clothes stay on me.”
He stared intently at the image of the woman, still wholly unable to tell if she was real or not. Once again, she began to speak. “You have two minutes to remove all of your clothing and place them in the bin.”
“Well, I just don’t think it will work. I just can’t strip with you staring at me,” Kadamba insisted, watching the screen, hoping to see the now-still face either turn away or begin to speak again. He realized that in the corner of the screen a countdown timer had appeared. He watched it for a few moments. As it approached 1:00, he realized a current of some type was flowing through the floor. It began to hurt. He realized he couldn’t move and felt the muscles throughout his body contracting more and more tightly.
“You now have one minute to place all of your clothing in the bin, or full electro-simulative shock will be applied,” the perky voice informed him.
When the current ended, Kadamba quickly began removing his clothes throwing them into the bin. His underwear, which was the last thing he removed, landed in the container with nine seconds remaining. The bin disappeared into the wall, leaving him sitting naked. As he began to shake, he realized he was even more scared than before. Without his clothes, he felt utterly vulnerable. Covering his genitals, he looked back at the screen. The woman on the screen now seemed to have a malicious smile, even though she appeared perky and happy.
“Thank you for complying. You now have five minutes to complete any personal toilet needs.”
A bump emerged from the wall and formed into a low toilet. This was humiliating, but Kadamba was slightly relieved. He really did need to use the facilities. He sat on the toilet and buried his face in his hands, not wanting to look at that horrible, cheerful face on the screen.
“Uh, is there … Uh … Any paper anywhere?” Kadamba asked when he finished.
