As we walked down the corridor, it became apparent to me that this building was not what I imagined it to be. My room, while not something found in a five star hotel, was fairly luxurious compared to the rest of the structure. It had the look of an abandoned warehouse; the kind you would see in the industrial area of just about any major American city. Curious sort that I was, I had to ask.

“Whereabouts are we, doc?”

“I’m going to withhold that information, Aleena. No sense in giving you any more data than you need.”

“I’m sorry, what did you just call me? Aleena? I thought my name was Daisy.”

He let out a short laugh and replied, “Good Lord, no! Are you kidding? Sounds too much like a… what would you call it? Oh, yes, a ‘redneck‘. I only called you that because I wanted you to get really perturbed, so as to trigger the security system to immobilize you.”

“Well, gee, thanks... I guess. For the improved name, at least. Just in case I decide to keep it, and there is no guarantee of that.”

He nodded. A moment later, we reached an elevator. The doctor put his hand on a dark glass plate, and said “Level Four, please.” The door opened, and we stepped in.

There was no time for chat in the lift, as it only took a few seconds to reach its destination. We exited, and I followed my host down yet another hall. In no time, we were in the examination room.

I looked around - it was similar to most examination rooms I had seen over my thirty some odd years of living, with a few differences. It was considerably larger. Some equipment looked very high tech, like something from a sci-fi show. In the centre of the room was an examination table / bed.

Doctor Westham gestured for me to climb up on the table, to which I complied. No sense resisting over such a small issue; I’d end up on the table one way or another, thanks to the doctor and Deborah. I’d wait until I could find a way around the sensors and the A.I. security, then make my move. Such confidence - I could only hope I could back it up with action.

“Now, then.”, he began, “I know you want to hear the rest of the story...”

“I do.” interrupting him, “but first, I’d like to know what else have you done to me? In particular, what other parts of my brain have you messed with? You have gone to the trouble of implanting sensors in my head, and you can stop me dead in my tracks if my actions don’t suit you. What else has been done? Have you altered my thought patterns? Brainwashed me?”

“Actually, nothing else has been done to your brain.”, he responded.

The look I gave him must have indicated the doubt I had of his answer, as he elaborated further.

“Nothing else needed to be done. I have a surefire way of keeping you from escaping, or harming yourself or others. Your own free will determines your actions or decisions. Certainly, there will be certain circumstances or situations where making certain choices will be more difficult. An example of such is the physical changes that you have gone through, and will continue to experience. However, there will be no threat against you, or any thought control processes. I should say, however, that when you make certain choices, that will dictate certain outcomes. Those outcomes will limit further options.”

I sat for a moment, trying to understand what he had said, while he began the examination by shining a light of sorts in my eyes and looking into my pupils with a lens like device. When I had more or less figured it out, I couldn’t help but ask, “Do you enjoy talking like a bureaucrat, doc?”

He smiled at my joke. “Sorry, occupational hazard. I do run this place, after all, so sometimes I speak like one. So, do you understand my statement?”

“I believe so. When I am faced with a fork in the decision road, will I be informed what will happen if I make a certain choice?”

“For the most part, yes. No decision will be rushed, and you will either be told of the consequences, or will be given enough information to figure it out on your own. Fair enough?”, he asked.

“I guess it will have to be. Is there any other option?”

“Regrettably not.”, he replied. “So, can I carry on with why this is happening, and why you were chosen to be a part of the solution to a future crisis?”

“Go for it, doc.”