Correct Mistake
By
Eric Burbridge
Maxwell Lowe, a murdering short-tempered muscular MMA
champion
of Penal Colony Alpha twenty miles off the coast of Chicago was admitted to
minimum security for minor surgery. His stretcher stopped at the surgical unit
while the scanners mapped his entire body. The doctor’s holographic projection
smiled and stated he’d administer the local anesthesia since he wanted to view
the removal of the inguinal hernia in his groin area. Maxwell wasn’t a wimp and
it would bolster his tough guy image. A person in all white clothing wearing a
white protective mask guided his stretcher into the brightly lit O.R. There was
something familiar about his long ponytail, curvy hips and tight-fitting
uniform. He pulled down his mask. “I’m the nurse technician who will guide you
through the surgical details, Maxwell Lowe, #414.”
“Devvie, where you been?” Maxwell
said, surprised to see his favorite victim. “You still got those curves.”
*
Devin Cordin stood over the degenerate
who sexually assaulted him repeatedly, moaning and groaning in his ear calling
him, Devvie and whisper, “if you had tits on your back you’d be my woman.”
“You are familiar with the
protocol?”
“Yes. I willingly and with full
knowledge accept the surgery.” Maxwell said. And with that clear he was
automatically strapped to the table. “I missed you, Devvie.”
“I knoooow you did… now it’s my turn.
That wiped the smile off your face.” Devin went to the control panel. “Now,
Maxwell, we proceed with the anesthesia.” Two metal rods with needle-like
appendages descended from an array of equipment overhead and opened his gown
and injected the drugs in places on his lower torso, legs and groin. Several
monitors dropped down and came to life, two for real time, the others for the
animated part. “The doctors will take it from here for your sexual
re-assignment.”
“What!!! What are you talking about?”
“You forgot I was a medical
professional who made a costly mistake—that’s what got me here, but when I saw
your name on the schedule I altered things to include an additional procedure.”
Devin whispered in his ear. “If and when they catch it, it might be too late. Soon,
you will not be able to scream. See you later, soon to be… Maxine.”
*
“Hear those drills, Maxwell?”
His
eyes bucked, sweat and tears rolled
down the side of his face.
“Watch the birdy, Maxwell.” The
screens moved closer. The robotic arms spread his legs and laid his penis to
the side and raised his testicles. Another set of arms positioned themselves by
the hernia.
BP: 150/120, pause procedure.
BP: 180/130.
“Calm down, Maxwell.” Devin spoke
softly into the microphone. The tentacle-like robotic arms hovered over his
genitals. The laser scalpel and other equipment remained activated, but the
demonstration of the surgery continued on the animation monitor. Devin planned
on scaring the mess out of him too, not have him stroke out. Where’s the fun in
that? As long as his pressure was up the auto-stop software was in charge. Any
second the surgeon would call for a diagnostic of the system. Poor Maxwell,
deserved the horror he was going through sealed in a plastic bubble with razors
a hair from his balls.
*
“There’s a glitch in the system,
technician Devin. We’re locked out.” A surgeon said.
“Locked out?”
“That’s what I said.” His palms got
sweaty, that tone meant trouble. “Need I remind you what’s at stake?”
“No…I’m on it.” He moved files around
as fast as possible; nothing unfroze the system. What is it? Maxwell’s blood
pressure returned to normal, but nothing changed. Don’t act too nervous—being
cool and professional kept him in this position, and it meant an earlier
parole. He would fix the problem, but in the meantime, he still wanted to
harass Maxwell. He couldn’t re-enter the sterile O.R. if he did they would hear
and see everything. Maxwell stared at the ceiling, that gave Devin an idea.
Retract the monitors and enlarge the viewing area to cover the entire ceiling
and replay the procedural video repeatedly until the problem was fixed.
“Technician…technician, the anesthesia
won’t last forever. What in the hell is the problem?”
“One second.” You can kiss my ass; a
little pain will be good for that asshole. “It’s not a software problem.” Devin
frantically checked everything, but the power back-ups. “That’s it, control. It
was nothing but the circuit breaker. You’re back in business.”
*
Maxwell felt a sensation in his groin
area along with beads of sweat on his forehead. What was happening? The twin
monitors retracted and the holographic images of the castration began. The
testicle sack was lifted and the scalpel sliced the middle exposing two grey
balls. NO…no!!! His heart pounded; he felt cold steel on his hips and penis.
I’m going to kill you real slow…Devvie!!
BP: 180/150
Surgery Cancelled.
The projection disappeared. Maxwell’s head ached and he
lost consciousness.
*
“The report says you and Maxwell Lowe
have history; assault and torture, right?” Devin nodded.
“You
tried to take advantage of a serious, unheard-of,
mistake for your own vendetta, inmate.” The interrogator stated. He’d never admit
it so why ask?
“The
mistake hasn’t been found from what I’ve been told.”
And, they’d be too embarrassed to admit it. He remained silent sitting in a
blinding white room with, God knows, how many sensors arrays, was pissing him
off, but he was still in control of his vitals. Beating the lie detector was
his specialty. He looked around the box. “Anybody there?”
“I’ll ask the question, inmate. You do
understand your significantly early parole is based on our decision of whether
you tried to have Maxwell Lowe de-nutted, right?”
“Yes.” Devin smiled. De-nutted…he’d
remember that one.
“What’s funny?” There was a hint of
laughter in the interrogator’s voice.
“Nothing.”
“Maxwell Lowe chose to view the
surgery of the hernia, but watching the sexual re-assignment surgery caused a
near fatal stroke. The doctors say he’s in for a long recovery. That video made
my skin crawl…”
“He accepted it.”
“Don’t interrupted me again.” The
interrogator cleared his throat. “Excuse me, the integrity of the experimental
techniques at this penal facility is vital to the rehabilitation programs. We
reviewed the videos and strangely enough the audio was lost in the glitch, or
whatever you call it, so for the time being you’re free to go.”
Three weeks later Devin boarded the ferry
to Chicago. The almost-Maxine, Maxwell Lowe was recovering and for spite the
parole board made sure Devin’s nursing license wouldn’t be reinstated for six
months. Fine with him, they’d never see him again.
The End
