The Turing Option

“Yes. Who is it?”

“It’s Dr. Snaresbrook, Brian. I wonder if I could…”

“I don’t feel like talking now, Doctor. I’m going to make a sandwich, have a lot to drink, watch some repulsively stupid television and go to bed early. I’ll maybe talk to you tomorrow. And if you want to talk to me before then — don’t. Because I’m turning off this phone.”

Just two minutes now. He started to hook the phone onto his belt — realized that he could easily be tracked through it — threw it onto the bed instead. Picked up the dye container in a paper bag. Lights off, open the door a crack. Hall was empty. Lock the door behind him, quietly now. Quickly to the fire stair in the rear. His heart was thudding violently as he eased the heavy door shut behind him.

Still in luck. The corridor reaching to the back entrance to the building was empty. Walk slowly, past the open door to the kitchen — don’t look in! — and ease open the rear door.

He stepped aside as the two cooks, wearing their whites, came in. They were arguing about baseball, apparently took no notice of him. But they would surely remember a soldier going out if something went wrong. If the alarm went now they would lead the guards right to him.

There was the car, in the shadow of the building, the only place in the lot not illuminated by the mercury vapor lights.

He looked around quickly, three soldiers in the lot walking away from him. No one else. He eased open the back door of the car and slipped in, closing it behind him while trying not to let it slam. Locked it and dropped to the floor, pulling the blanket over him.

“He’s a very upset young man,” Erin Snaresbrook said, rising to her feet.

“We all know that,” Major Wood said. “And we don’t like it. But we have our orders and there is absolutely nothing that I or anyone else can do about it.”

“Then I will go over your head. Something must be done to help him.”

“Please do that — and I wish you luck.”

“He was very upset on the phone just now. He has locked himself in his room, doesn’t want to talk to anyone.”

“Understandable. He might be better in the morning.”

“Well, I certainly hope so.”

He showed her to the front door, started to come with her to the car. She stopped and rooted in her purse for her car keys, took them out along with one of her business cards that she handed to the officer.

“I want you to phone me, night or day, Major, if you are concerned in any way about his well-being. I hope something really will be done before it is too late. Good-bye.”

“I’ll do that, Doctor. Good-bye.”

She walked slowly out of the building and to the parking lot. Got into the car, not daring to glance at the backseat. Started the engine and looked about. There was no one nearby.

“Are you — there?” she whispered.

“You better believe it!” was the muffled answer.

She drove to the gate. Nodded to the guards when the barrier rose, drove out into the star-pricked darkness.

38 December 19, 2024

Erin Snaresbtook was forced to set the cruise control on the car, since her speed kept creeping up — and dropping back only when she noticed. The desert was an ocean of darkness on all sides, the headlights boring a tunnel of light down the undulating ribbon of the road ahead of her. She drove for over a mile before she saw the car parked on the shoulder of the road. She slowed and pulled over, stopping behind it. Sighed with relief, then turned her head and spoke over her shoulder.

“You’re safe now. You can come out.”

Brian popped up onto the backseat. “Thought I was going to suffocate. No problems, I guess — or we wouldn’t be here.”

“No problems. You can get out. Wait — let me turn the lights off first. And the inside light. Just in case.”

Brian stepped out into the warm darkness. Free! For the first time in a year. He breathed deep of the dry desert air, allowed himself a long moment to take in the sky brimming over with stars, filled with them right down to the dark and jagged outline of the mountains. Heard the car door close as Snaresbrook came out and joined him. He turned to face her, looked past her and saw the other car, felt a surge of panic when he saw that someone was standing next to it.

“Who’s there! What happened?”

“It’s all right, Brian,” Snaresbrook said quietly. “It’s Shelly. She’s here to help you. She knows about everything that is happening and is on your side.”

Brian’s throat was so tight that it took an effort to speak.

“How long have you known?” he asked when Shelly came and stood before him.

“Just for the last week. Ever since I told Dr. Snaresbrook about my leaving the military because of what they were doing to you. I convinced her that I wanted to help you — and she believed me.”