Tell me, people. How many of you remember this scene?
How would you like to be where Neo was, in this room?
| Morpheus: You have the look of a man who accepts what he sees because he expects to wake up. Ironically, that's not far from the truth. |
Last night, I interrogated one of my clients. It was all done over Skype. Very matricene.
The scenario began with my client, assuming the role of one "Agent X," typing at her console, in great agitation and excitement over a project her investigations had uncovered. On cue, her cellphone rang; her handler, Zero, at the other end asked her for her code ID, which she knew somehow to be "Alpha Tango Six Three Seven." Once she gave it, Zero asked her for details of this project, codenamed Prometheus.
Agent X did not get far; a dart struck her neck, injecting a potent tranquiliser. Agent X was out in seconds.
| Morpheus: Have you ever had a dream, Neo, that you were so sure was real? What if you were unable to wake from that dream, Neo? How would you know the difference between the dream world and the real world? |
In the second phase, I strapped my client down, and woke her up on cue. Her room had vanished, and she was now in an unfamiliar room she did not recognise.
Conscious, awake and alert, my client looked around and saw the straps binding her to the chair. I watched her struggle before sending in Agents Dostoyevsky and Karenina.
D. and K. were dressed like Agents. Dostoyevsky was a tall, bald, solidly-built black guy; Karenina, a slightly-built woman with red hair in a severe crew cut. On cue, both of them entered the room. Agent X noticed them, and I watched her grow distinctly unnerved.
After an initial round of questions which my client refused to answer, I sent Karenina out of the room to fetch some equipment - a trolley laden with a syringe, a vial of truth drug and a bottle of nitrous oxide with face mask and feed tube.
Cypher: You know, I know this steak doesn't exist. I know that when I put it in my mouth, the Matrix is telling my brain that it is juicy and delicious. After nine years, you know what I realize?
[Takes a bite of steak]
Cypher: Ignorance is bliss. |
Cue an interrogation scene unlike any my client has ever faced. Karenina administered the truth serum - Agent X saw the needle and felt it go in. The drug worked its way through her body and flooded her bloodstream with dopamine, serotonin and oxytocin. Agent X became compliant, suggestible, euphoric. It was hilarious to see the transformation. More questions ensued but - to my delight - she began singing the theme song for the TV show
Spongebob Squarepants.
I had no choice but to proceed to the next stage of the interrogation. On my command, Karenina administered the laughing gas. Once Agent X was sufficiently giggly, Karenina began tickling Agent X. Somehow, Karenina knew all of Agent X's ticklish spots - including, I believe, a few that Agent X herself was unaware of.
More questions ensued - but still, Agent X resisted. There was only one choice left, then: the piece de resistance.
Earlier on, my client had noticed a box of chocolates on her kitchen table on return from work. I told Agent X that the chocolates contained a sample of Project Prometheus - nanites designed to ensure compliance in the subjects into which they are introduced, activated via the optic nerves.
So I shone a blue light into her face, and her whole body went slack, like deactivating a cat with a bulldog clip to the flap on the back of its neck. With her conscious mind observing, helpless, I ordered her to raise her arms over her head, which she did; then to unbutton the top button of her blouse, again which she did.
Complying with my verbal instructions, she stood up, then knelt. There was a most delicious look of defiance in her eyes. When I commanded Agent X to return to the chair, I watched her comply: when Karenina put the straps back on, I shone a red light into Agent X's eyes to deactivate the Prometheus nanites and restore control of her body to her. Once again, she struggled; but now, it was time for the final phase, the administration of anaesthetic gas to render her unconscious. As she slipped under, I told Agent X that she would make an excellent sleeper agent within her Agency.
And that was it.
My client returned to consciousness in her own room. Technically, she hadn't left it; but it felt like a return. She was herself again; the straps, the mask, the equipment, the Agents - all gone, as though they were never there.
The session was over.
Now the thing is this. The nanite-laced chocolates; the dart; the interrogation; the drugs; the tickling ... none of this took place inside the trance. These happened to my client
while her conscious mind was in a lucid state.
| Morpheus: The Matrix is the world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth. |
And that was last night's session. My client was magnificent. The thing is, though, she's not the only one whom I can interrogate like this. Sessions like the above, and variations thereof - prisoners of a sorcerer or sorceress, alien abduction victim - wait till you meet the Greys! - all of these fun scenarios are available to you.
All you have to do is just, well,
submit to me first.
| Morpheus: I'm trying to free your mind, Neo. But I can only show you the door. You're the one that has to walk through it. |
