Probe

/prōb/

noun

a small device, especially an electrode, used for measuring, testing, or obtaining information

A shrill sound came from the intercome in the corner of the room. The lights went on and groans sounded throughout the quarters. Dozens of girls had already left their bunks, mumbling and complaining as they rushed to the bathroom. Even though they would never go out into the 'real world' or fall in love, they still felt the need to look perfect as every nineteen year old girl did.

There was no daylight coming in through a window. We were surrounded by white concrete walls on all sides and the ominous surroundings were enough to make any of the White Coats go mad, but they would never live down here. They were too superior to live here with the Brains because we were, at least, a thousand IQ points behind them, and the only way to gain those points is through an injection, to which, only they have the sirum for. Unless someone had a brain that was ten times as capable as Albert Einstein's, the people of the laboratory were not getting to see the light of day at any point of their lives.

I groaned and began to stretch my legs, almost instantly causing me to fall out of bed without grace and elegance, which led to my body falling to the ground with a thud and laughter emitting from some of the guys on the other side of the room.

Guards came in a few minutes later to take us to the elevator which we would ride up to the computer level until eleven tonight. From five in the morning to eleven at night, we were the brains of our twin civilian. Each brain controlled their twins' body, and after eleven their microchip was turned off, allowing both them, and us, to get rest before the next day's activities.

"Good morning Melissa," my best friend, Janice, said to me, slinging her arm around my shoulder as we walked down the bland hallways with coffee in each of our hands. Her brunette hair that fell down her shoulders and back was straightened today as she always felt the need to make herself look presentable.

"Good morning Jan," I simply replied, too tired to say anything but a short response.

"How do we know it's morning though? We never see the sun light so how do we know it's the beginning of the day?"

"You ask this everyday, and my answer is always the same," I told her, rolling my eyes and taking a large sip of my coffee.

"We'll have to wait till we are in their brains," she said, from memory, in unison with me.

We continued walking peacefully only to be interrupted again by Janice's thoughts. "But doesn't it get frustrating. I mean we never see the daylight, yet our twins see it every day!" she ranted, throwing her arms in the air. We turned a corner, and I was happily sipping away at my coffee still as we held up our ID badges to enter our twin's control room sector.

"And if you get caught saying that you and your sibling will be killed." She glared at my smart remark as we sat at our designated computers next to each other.

"We're all gonna die someday, right?" I turned to her and gave her a 'shut up' look, putting on my headphones. She groaned, taking a sip of her carmel latte again before putting hers on and logging into her computer.

When I was about to be put in charge of the microchip, the computer flashed to a red color. It continued to spontaneously blink from black to red for about five minutes. Letting my curiousity get the best of me, I looked around, and, sure enough, it wasn't just mine, it was the entire room's computers.

I looked over at Janice, who's eyes were looking around in panic. I had seen her this way every time the computers flashed this color. It was like a natural instinct for her to do.

Looking diagonally in front of me I saw Lizzy, my other friend in the program. She looked back at me with curiousity in her eyes as she mouthed 'What's going on?'

I mouthed that I didn't know the cause of this as we shared another scared glance at each other. A head guard, dressed in their customary blue uniform, traveled up front to speak with us. Several white suited officers followed behind with batons held tightly in their hands. The girl's hair was pulled back as she marched in front of the muscular men.

I gulped, anxiously looking at them. The only times they came in here was when a Brain was 'retired' or they had reason to believe that there was a traitor in the unit. For nineteen year olds, it was almost always the latter, but there was still a part of every Brain that grew up fearing the day you would be retired due to your twin's death.

"We have seen some suspicious activity around the lab, and are here to make an arrest," the female, head guard said in a loud voice.

The heartbeats in the room sped up, not because we were all guilty of being part of an organization that rebelled against the government, but because we knew it could be one of our friends that was dragged out by their arms or hair to be killed. We never knew who was a Raider but the officers definitely did, and when they got a hold of them, it wasn't pretty. Most begged for mercy as they were drug out, only a few had dry eyes, and even fewer smiled or felt that they would die for a just cause.

"We are not leaving or starting up the microchips until this is confessed. Whoever is working for the Raiders, stand up." The air pressure felt like it dropped about a hundred feet. Everyone was looking at each other with terrified looks. This was one of the chances the Raiders took when they sent their troops to scope out the labratory. Their spies would most likely die, and when reality came to light, it was not a quick and painless death by a gunshot to the head.

It was public humiliation, hours of torture, face to face time with the White Coats who were in need of guinnee pigs to test. It was long days of screaming for death to overtake them, and all the Brains had to listen and watch it unfold. No Brain in their right mind joined the rebellion.

No one stood as the time passed. Some started squirming, either in nervousness or because they needed to use the restroom but standing would mean certain death. "Jerimiah. Start searching them," the brunette head told the officer next to her. The man, who I assumed was Jeremiah, nodded his head sharply and walked to the first person, making them stand, and searching their belongings.

Janice looked at me, her brown hair standing out from the computer screen as it flashed. Her eyes showed fear, but she kept her cool as the officers came toward our row. Their detectors for rebel equipment went off as they approached a black haired girl further ahead in the row. As they searched her body, I rolled my eyes at her stupidity for having Raider equipment on her person as the head guard stopped in front of her, unzipping the front pocket of her jumpsuit to find a walkie talkie. My heart plummeted to my stomach, knowing this eighteen year old wouldn't last one night of torture.

"So they're sending girls now? Are you that desperate?" she spat in the undercover Raider's face. The girl's face stayed the same, not making a sound to defend or convict herself, which was a dumb and smart idea all at the same time. This would be her only chance to explain the ordeal, fake a story of being black mailed into the business and try to tug at their heart strings; however, saying that would convict herself, and without conviction the guards couldn't lay a hand on her.

A dark haired guard stepped forward, annoyed by the silence of the girl. His hand swept across her tan cheek. Her black hair flew up as her body fell to the floor from impact. When she looked up, her lip was busted and cheek was already swelling in the color of rosy red. "Are you a Raider?" the head commander asked, kneeling down to her level on the ground, "or do we have to use your walkie talkie to find out?" The head guard taunted the young girl by dangling the walkie talkie in front of her face by the antennae.

Her mouth stayed closed. Without another moment of hesitation, a black combat boot collided with her face. They were beating the truth out of her, but her mouth wouldn't open.

I looked back at Janice, unable to watch the scene in front of me. Her eyes were filled with fear and sympathy as she watched the beating continue in front of her. Tears pooled in her eyes, but she didn't look away. She watched with a mixture of pride and helplessness.

I had no clue what was happening around me, but by the amount of gasps that came from girls' mouths, screams from the Raider, and gaping mouths of guys in their chairs, I could tell it was nothing I wanted to see. Clicking of combat boots on the floor was all that I could hear of the torture taking place in front of us.

Another scream emitted from her mouth as I heard another kick land on her ribs; cracks were echoing across the room from her broken ribs. Curiousity controlled the best of me as I turned around in my chair to see her cheeks red from the kicks and slaps landing on her face. Tears coursed down her face and dried on her cheeks. Blood seeped out of her now swollen lip like a fountain. It was a horrific sight to look at.

They finally let up, and the commander bent down again to speak to her. "Are you a Raider?" she asked slowly, pronouncing every syllable. The young girl stayed silent yet again. "I'm taking that as a yes." With that, the dark haired girl was picked up and drug out of the room by her wrists, which were bruised black and blue.

Our screens cleared up and unlocked for us to take control of our twin's microchips. "Sorry for the interruption," she apologized emotionlessly, turning on her heel and walking out with her files in one arm and flicking her hair over her shoulder with the other.

Janice and I looked at each other, a silent agreement being made between us. We would talk about this later.

Upon the commander's departure, I entered the passcode, my birthday, into the computer as I did everyday and took control of my sister's brain. My sister that would never again think without me putting in my input, and wouldn't make a step without me authorizing it. I was in a physical prison, trapped within white walls with no windows or accessible exits while she was in a mental prison, with no way out whatsoever. She was the one with the probe in her head while I was the one controling it.

Edited: 30 September 2016