“You must harden your resolve,” the psychiatrist now told him. The stern major wore a compelling black uniform, which tightly conformed to her figure. She had particularly large breasts, which strained at the buttons of her uniform.
“The shocks—” Han said.
“No!” the psychiatrist said, sitting up, frowning and tapping the computer-slate which she held in her lap. “You are not here to complain against stated procedures. You are here for me to cure you of your maladjustments.”
“…the shocks cause me to fear,” said Han. As much as he preferred Japanese schoolgirls, the major intrigued him.
“What did I just say, Captain?” the major asked.
Han wasn’t sure what she’d said, but he wanted her to frown again.
“Captain Han, do I have your attention?”
He stood at parade rest as she sat in a chair beside him. Her office contained many diplomas hanging from the walls, as well as pictures of her with highly-ranked Party officials and officers. There were also many brightly- colored geometric shapes in the room on tables and stands.
Han began to unbutton his jacket as he imagined her—
“Captain Han,” she said, snapping her fingers.
Han blinked in surprise at his open jacket. What had he been doing?
With a computer-stylus, she jotted on her slate, writing quickly.
“What are you writing about me?” he asked, wanting to look. She held her slate so he couldn’t see.
“That is no concern of yours,” she said. She clicked the stylus onto the slate, setting it on her nylon-covered knees. “You are a clever man, a noted computer specialist. Surely, you must understand the necessity of the simulated shocks as you remote-control military vehicles from your pit.”
“Yes. It’s been explained to me many times.”
“Then I fail to understand—”
“What if you were shocked every time you failed your appointed task?” Han asked.
Her back stiffened, and she spoke with a nasal quality. “
“Interrogation?” asked Han, alarmed for the first time. He’d thought this was a mental-health reevaluation. An interrogation could bring serious demerits to his military profile.
She gave him a shark-like smile and nodded primly. “Finally, I have your attention. That is an improvement. Now listen closely, Captain. The authorities have created a new penal remote-control center where they will double the intensity of the death-shocks.”
“But that’s hideous!” cried Han.
“Ah,” she said, picking up the stylus. “Was that a subversive comment against the State?”
“What?” asked Han. “No, no.”
“What did you mean then with your objection?” she asked, the stylus poised.
Han thought furiously. “I-I thought you were here to help me.”
“I am,” she said. “I am here to help you regain your martial fervor for the honor of Chinese conquest. Your superiors feel you have become self-absorbed and spend far too much time worrying about your physical and mental well-being. What you need to remember, Captain, is that China not only possesses the oldest culture on the planet, but the most superior culture as well. You are part of that culture, not an individualized person as the enemy suggests. You are united into a powerful whole and must always think of China’s good before you agonize over your own petty problems.”
“I totally agree with you,” Han said.
She shook her head. “You do not say that with true zeal. In fact, your words just now sounded forced, as if you spoke to guard yourself from further punishment.”
Han forced urgency into his words even as he remained at parade rest with his hands behind his back. “I love China.”
“Do you really, Captain Han, or do you just say that to avoid transfer to the new penal remote-controlling unit?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I love my country more than anything else in the world.”
“Do you love China more than your own miserable creature comforts?”
“I do, I do,” Han said.
“I see,” she said, studying him. “Would you give up your rank for China’s greater glory?”
“Yes,” said Han, wondering if they were going to kick him out of the Space Service. At this point, that might be a good thing.
Her eyes narrowed. “Your profile states quite clearly,” she said, glancing at her slate, “that you are very proud of your status in the Chinese Space Service.”
“It is the greatest achievement of my life,” said Han.
“Yet for the love of China, you would willingly give it up?”
“Utterly,” said Han.
The tiniest of smiles tugged at the corner of her lipstick-painted lips. “Then I must tell you this, Captain Han. And I want you to listen most closely. Are you listening?”
He nodded fervently, beginning to hate her. He should strip off her nylons and flip up her skirt, put her over his knees and spank her until she begged him to stop.
She snapped her fingers. “What is that look in your eyes?” she asked. “They glaze over as I speak to you. Are you drugged, Captain Han?”
“I’ve worked hard for China’s glory,” he said quietly, trying to pump patriotism into his words. What was wrong with him? Why did he keep sinking into his sexual fantasies? Was it a side-effect of the many dosages of S-15 they kept injecting into him? “It has been my privilege to strive for China’s honor, yet I’ve begun to wonder lately if I’ve overworked myself. I might no longer be able to function with full efficiency. Perhaps I must decline returning to the remote—”
The major laughed. “That is a good try, Captain. But you have apparently forgotten that I am a psychiatrist. I can see through your pathetic attempt to dodge the death-shocks. You may love China, but you love your own well-being far too much. That is clear. Now you may avoid further death-shocks by admitting to me that you’re a coward. Then I will request the enforcing arm of the remote-controllers to make an example of you. We psychiatrists designed the shocks to stimulate a soldier’s battlefield efforts. We wanted you remote-controllers to perform your tasks with zeal. We wanted you to act with a soldier’s kill-or-die fervor.”
“But I’ve been part of the suicide assaults!” cried Han. “Your reasoning and the shocks are unjust.”
“Stop right there or face the enforcement arm,” the major said coldly. “Your kind disgusts me.” She shook her head. “I can hardly force myself to give you another chance. Still, I follow my orders instead of indulging in my desire, which is to see a worm like you punished to the full extent of the military penal code. However, because I am here to give you a choice, I will still allow you to make one. Tell me which you prefer: enforcement or the chance to win even more glory by returning to your remote-controlling station?”
“Are there others like me?” asked Han. “Men who are tiring of the shocks?”
Her features tightened. “That is privileged information, Captain. Now you must give me your choice.”
Han almost turned and slapped her face, and there was no telling what he would have done next. Maybe he would have raped her here in the office. He’d never forget the experience. His shoulders slumped. The problem was that East Lightning would torture him a long time if he did that. Han hung his head. He nodded submissively.
“I would like to return to service,” he said in a quiet voice.
“Very well,” she said. “Then I am required to inform you of a surprising development. My superiors believe this information will heighten your enthusiasm for combat, although after speaking to you I have my doubts. Know, Captain Han, that you have achieved one of the highest kill-rates. If by the end of the conflict, you have achieved the highest kill ratio, you will be promoted to major.”
“Oh,” he said. Then he realized she might mark him down for lack of enthusiasm. He forced a smile. “I am delighted to hear this. I will perform to the satisfaction of the Space Service.”
“Hmm,” she said, as she tapped her computer-stylus against her slate. “This is against my better judgment, but my superiors are interested in knowing if you would rather return to controlling Marauders or go back to
