Page 15 of PSYCHOlogical

“Ask whatever you’d like,” I said.

She picked up her pen. Seeming more interested in it than she was in me, she cleared her throat. “Using one sentence, explain to me how you justify being an operator.”

It was an easy question to answer. “Protecting those from harm that are incapable of protecting themselves.”

She shifted her gaze from me to the pen. “Have you ever been in a relationship?”

“Not since high school.”

“Do you get lonely?”

“I stay lonely.”

She twirled the pen between her fingers. She was enjoying herself, that much was clear. After a moment, she looked up. “When this program is over, can you see yourself being in a relationship?”

“I’d like to think so. I mean, I’d like to be. When all this is over.”

“What prevents you from being in a relationship now?”

I laughed out loud at the thought. “Really?”

“Really.”

“First, I’d have to lie. I couldn’t tell her about what it is I do. It would jeopardize the security of the program. A relationship now would be one big lie. That’s no way to start a relationship.”

“Are there other reasons?” she asked.

There were, but none that I could discuss. “None that come to mind, no.”

She studied the pen as if it held the answers to her next question. While she did, I admired her. She was tall for a woman, standing about 5’-8” without heels. She was thin, with an athletic build. Her hair, eyebrows, and what little makeup she wore were faultless.

Always.

I couldn’t help but wonder if she wanted the six of us to be as faultless as she was. If the expectations she had of us were never going to be met. If she wanted to cleanse our minds of the atrocities that we were forced to commit, but simply couldn’t.

Because we were broken.

Maybe she did what she did because she was fascinated by our ability to separate our lives from the death that we administered.

“Are you in a relationship, Doc?” I asked.

She tossed the pen on her desk. “I am not.”

“Using one sentence, explain to me why you’re not in a relationship,” I said mockingly.

“The same reason you’re not,” she said. “Being in a relationship with this job would be impossible. Too many questions would be asked, and there’s not a way I could answer any of them. I’d be living a huge lie. I’m not necessarily comfortable with that.”

I gave a sharp nod. “Admirable.”

“Will it bother you to conceal this part of your life once this is over?” she asked. “To never speak of it?”

“I don’t know,” I responded.

She let out a long, slow breath. “It’s crazy when you really stop to think about it.”

“What’s that?”

“All of this,” she said. “Everything. What we do. Well, what you do, primarily. Your work helps keep the Nation secure and safe, but most of the population would look at it as murder.”