"What have you done to me?" Rose squeaked, in a long out-breath. Her voice sounded like a windup dolls as though a string had been pulled from her back. "What have you done to me?" she squeaked again, confirming the impression a string had been pulled.
It wasn't her voice that worried her it was the body she had woken up with. She was a young attractive woman with a super ego to match, or at least she had been a few days ago.
A continuous recording had played through earphones a carefully built scenario over the past few days, while she was unconscious. A cocktail of drugs had been given to keep her unconscious and to leave her mind susceptible to the voice re-building her self-image.
Bill wasn't sure it would work as there were bound to be bugs in the system this first time it was tried. Her reaction on waking seemed to confirm some success. He picked her because she had been particularly annoying. The future of the project depended on a decision from her to continue funding. She had been unimpressed with the profitability figures despite the project being a benefit to accident victims.
The program had been quickly modified for her with the aim of teaching her how disastrous it was to loose control of bodily functions. The drugs and equipment were designed to teach the brain to quickly re-learn to walk after brain damage.
There was nothing wrong with her physically or mentally but she thought there was and would continue to until he set her free by reversing the program. A couple of hours should do it.
She struggled to sit up so he naturally helped her. Sitting on the high tech bed she looked stiff and awkward as though it was difficult to control her limbs.
"What have you don't to me?" she repeated, with a plaintive tone in the doll like voice.
Bill wondered what she was seeing, how she was seeing herself. The program had been quickly cobbled together and there had been no time to adjust it to her personality. It had been continuous too rather than a series of short sessions.
He had been angry from the supercilious manner in which she had dismissed the project without even knowing how important it was to patients. So it wouldn't make a profit immediately. Long term it had tremendous potential and he was going to teach her that the hard way. A couple of hours should do it then another hour undoing what had been done to her.
"What do you think I've done to you?" he asked.
"You bastard, I'll sue you for every penny you have for this!" she squeaked. Her face screwed up with pain, not from any physical problem, because the mental image she had was so very difficult to take.
He was used to teasing out from patients how they felt and what they could feel of their limbs but this explosion of viciousness was unfamiliar. He looked at her seeing a self-important business woman too busy to bother with little details. She was too busy to consider minor details like helping people to lead normal lives again.
He stood looking into her blue eyes. His big brown eyes held sympathy and understanding but she couldn't see that. She kept staring at her legs and held her arms out from her body as though they were dirty, contaminated with something nasty.
"My body, my beautiful body, you've taken it away. I don't want this plastic dolls body, I want my human body back," she squeaked out plaintively.
So it was confirmed, that was what she could see. The recording didn't just over-write the mind it shaped it toward accepting the damage and to give strength to overcome the disability. Accepting a prosthetic limb and helping the mind to relearn to control that limb, was the true program but this quick change was turning out rather strangely.
"What have you done with my body? I want it back now!" she demanded, only the silly squeaky noise denied it any authority. The more forcefully she commanded compliance the more comical it became.
He kept a straight face. "If this isn't you're body whose then?" he asked.
"It's a doll or a manikin, one of your plastic bodies for patients. You know what you've done to me! It's hideous. Do something and quickly," she demanded, with the same outrage.
So that was it. She had completely misread the reports on the project just as he had thought. He watched her examining both hands, the movements awkward, with fascination and a touch of horror. He had intended for her to awake thinking she had been subjected to the project but not to this extent. Her own imagination had worked with the suggestion and programming to build this bizarre scene.
He nearly reacted with a belly laugh. The stupid bitch thought he had replaced her entire body. Impossible! She had no idea what he was doing here yet she took the decision to cut funding. His lifetimes work slashed by a short sighted accountant.
"What is wrong with it, don't you like it?" he asked, with the intention of provoking her. Her mouth worked around words that couldn't catch up with what she wanted to say. "I thought you might like a superior body to see how vital my work is. That body will last longer than yours and won't grow old. I will help you learn to control it and I'm sure you will find it an excellent replacement," he lied.
She looked stunned, unable to speak once more. For a moment he wondered why she wasn't crying for she looked as though she wanted to. Of course! She thought she couldn't, so won't cry. A relief, for he would have given in immediately. As it was he wanted to carry on the joke a little longer.
"Here, let me help you down, you should get dressed," he suggested.
He swung her legs round to the edge of the bed. She sat there a moment with a look of worry creasing her brow.
"No, I can't, it doesn't matter," she murmured.
"What?" he asked, sounding solicitous, as he really did have to know what she was thinking, for when he put things right.
