17
Monday, June 1st. Early Evening
The Doctor hooked the hanger to the towel rack and ran his hands down the polyester button-down to smooth out any remaining wrinkles.
He tugged on the mirror, swinging it open to reveal the medicine cabinet. He selected the small plastic container and swung the mirror closed.
As his face came back into view, he examined it. The lines on his forehead had grown deeper every day, he thought.
He tilted his head to try to get a glimpse of any hairs that may have been growing from his nostrils. There was one.
That wouldn’t do. Not at all.
He pinched the single protruding hair between his thumbnail and index finger and yanked, extracting it by the root. The sensation made his eyes water. It felt good.
It’s true that he always tried to look his best. Especially when going to work. But these were special times indeed. He was on the verge of a breakthrough. A medical marvel that would validate his genius once and for all. Its importance could not be overstated.
Equally important, in his estimation, was good oral hygiene. Healthy gums were a sign of a successful man.
He flipped the lid of the plastic box and unspooled a foot worth of floss. He wrapped each end through his fingers until only two inches of the waxy twine spanned between them. Pushing his thumbs against his top lip, he exposed his teeth to the mirror. He turned his head from side to side, admiring them.
A flash of movement in the mirror caught his eye. Startled, the Doctor spun around.
The Captain. I should have known.
“What are you doing here?” he said. “I’m not dressed.”
“I hope you’re not avoiding me,” the Captain replied.
The Doctor was avoiding him. He was hoping, just once, he’d be left alone long enough to focus on his work without having to deal with the Captain’s irrational mood swings and idiotic ideas.
The Captain would say that the Doctor needed him, and he wouldn’t have been wrong. But it didn’t change the fact that the man was more often a hindrance than help.
“That’s preposterous,” the Doctor said. “I’m not avoiding you. I’m running late. And you’re not helping matters.”
“Well, get on with it then.” The Captain crossed his arms and waited.
“I can’t floss with you watching. Wait outside, I’ll be right out.”
“So you can sneak out the window?” the Captain said. “I don’t think so. You and I both know what today is.”
“It’s too soon. I’ve barely started.”
“You agreed,” the Captain said. “You know they all have to be disposed of. You gave your word that I can have her, and you wouldn’t throw a tantrum.”
The truth was, he had agreed, if only to appease the Captain. But that was days ago, and time had moved too fast. It seemed a shame to waste a perfectly good subject. On top of it, it would only mean that they’d have to recruit another to replace her.
“Give me a couple more days,” he said.
“No,” the Captain snarled. “You’re wasting your time. And mine. They’re not fixable. They’re damaged goods and you know it. It disgusts me that I even have to deal with them. Just like you disgust me.”
“You’re wrong about them,” the Doctor said. “Whatever you think of me, they can be saved. I can prove it to you if you’d give me the chance. Look at the last one. We were making such great progress. She was on her way to being cured. But you took her anyway. Why?”
“Listen to yourself. What does it matter? We can’t keep them. Even if you could fix the little sluts.”
“Then why bother recruiting them at all?” the Doctor asked.
It was an honest question. It hardly seemed worth the trouble if he was just going to turn around and complain about the whole endeavor, day after day.
“To teach them a lesson,” the Captain said. “Simple as that. Not to keep them as pets.”
“They’re not pets.” The Doctor increased his volume. “They’re patients.”
“You’d better remember who you’re talking to. Raise your voice to me again and I’ll put your head through that mirror. Got it?”
The Doctor didn’t respond.
“You wanna know the truth?” the Captain asked. “You’re delusional. That girl admits she touched herself and you think cutting her fingers off is going to fix her. As if that’s going to make her pure. Any less of a whore. It’s a load of crap.”
“It isn’t! You don’t understand the process. The minor amputation was only the first step. To stop it from spreading. There was more work to be done.”
“Either way, tonight I’m taking the one you promised me,” the Captain said.
“I won’t let you.” The Doctor had intended for the words to be assertive, but they came out as little more than a whisper.
“What did you say to me?”
He cleared his throat. “I said I won’t let you.”
In an instant, the Doctor felt the intense pressure of the Captain’s grip on his throat.
“I’ll kill you,” the Captain said. His voice was strained and raspy.
The Doctor gasped for air through his compressed trachea. With his left hand, he clawed at the Captain’s right. It would not budge.
The room began to undulate. Specks of light floated in front of his eyes. In the end, one hand was all it was going to take for the Captain to put an end to him. It was frightening and, in a way, awe-inspiring.
The world darkened and the Doctor began to slip into oblivion. The Captain squeezed harder.
Then he let go.
The Doctor collapsed to the floor and filled his lungs with the dry air. It felt cool, yet it burned at the same time. The tingle sent him into a coughing fit.
Once he regained his composure, the Doctor silently stood up and faced the mirror. He drew out a length of dental floss, then paused and closed his eyes.
“Fine. You can have her.”