Makyo in My Mind
hallucinations of the unconscious eye
The half-forgotten
Other half of my short life
In short story form

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Sunday, February 20, 2005
Mind Control Mechanism

On a familiar tropical island, a new sports stadium has been built. Every seat is really close to the action, and my colleague RF has tickets to the opening game. I hang out with my old roommate in a luxurious room. A kid and his father come in, and the kid brags about how his dad is going to get some tickets for the room. "Go ahead, watch the gave on TV from here!" I laugh. Dumb idea, coming to a stadium to watch a game on TV.

When night comes, the game starts. I'm starving, since the entire place only has cheese and crackers to eat. There's a loud noise that everyone else seems to think is part of the show. I leave and travel in the direction of the noise, first coming upon giant grooves in the earth, then steaming rubble, and finally a gleaming white spacecraft. I see a man hiding in a cardboard box with a shotgun, one of the local miners. He points to the five men approaching us. "Aliens," he says. This offends them, and they rush him, holding him down. "Shoot him on three," one of them says. "One...two..." and they all open fire with their fully-automatic handguns. They ignore me and turn around to go back to work salvaging their ship. I pick up the shotgun. "Fuckers," I mumble as I shoot one, then another, in the back. The other three whip around, but I just cock and fire, blast them away, too.

Five more shapes approach me from the wreckage. Alien women. They blow me up somehow, but I survive, unconscious. "It's a man," I hear them say. They explore my human body, my clothes nearly all burned off. One holds my penis. "A dominant one, too," another one says. Another, their leader, says, "Bring him with us."

I wake up with the alien woman in her bed. Her skin is completely white, and her hair is very luminous, but otherwise she looks completely human. Just...feels alien. Assumably I've already pleasured her, but I don't remember a thing. We're eating cheese and crackers; I'm still hungry. Granted, the cheese is better than at the stadium. I start to wonder whether this will become a regular service of mine, given being killed would be worse. As if reading my mind, she looks at me and says, "You will never see me again." "Will they kill me?" I ask. "You will leave."

Next thing I know, I'm walking through a fence past some security drones. Either the aliens work fast or I was out for some time. Sentries warily watch me leave, but surprisingly noone kills me. It's nighttime. I head toward the mines.

Everything seems normal at the mines, but the foreman ensures me the aliens are in control. I pick up a short shovel and start moving some clay. It's morning now, and I can see there are too many people working here now. One worker tells me, "The change is random. Happens every Tuesday and Thursday. I'm told there's something you can do right away--if you get it--to stop it from happening, but eh, I don't know what that is." Great, how long was I gone? And this guy wasn't paying attention or soemthing? Seemed pretty important to me. I don't have much time to think about it, because an instant later I hear a bell, and dozens of people instantly transform into Rikti. The same guy comments, "They've just stepped up in class." The foreman walks by. "Come with me," he says. Into his office.

His office is more like a laboratory. Bottles and gadgets and tools all over the place. On the wall is a clock with a record on it. It briefly plays some alien, yet familiar music. "They communicate with their minds," says the foreman, who I'm guessing is more than that. "We've intercepted their signals and this is what it sounds like." So that's why it's familiar. "This lab is also protected; we're immune to the change in here. Our problem now is how do we trasmit back to wreck their operation?" On a table is a bizarre contraption, a model of their mind control mechanism.