Duties of the Prisoner

They were dragging me down the corridor, two to each side. The corridor was gray, rough-cut stone; lamps had been set into the ceiling every five paces. Gray metal cell doors swam past as the security squad hustled me to the room.

The security squad wore thick black shiny gloves that make their hands look and feel like claws. Their faces changed all the time. That day they hadn't had time to shave, and one of them had a particularly good crop of stubble. The equipment in the room they always took me to changed sometimes, but that day it was just like the last several times. Two metal chairs, and a desk between them. Asker in the chair behind the desk. Me in the other chair. The sound of the door closing behind the squad as they leave.

The questions started. I could answer most of them. I still know what my name is, and where I was captured; I know what my mission was, but I can't answer that question. Asker rarely repeated a question within a session, and the questions rarely varied. My name. Where was I captured. What was my mission. Those three were always asked, and surrounding that core was a shifting mist of inquiry. Sometimes the other questions were vague and pointless, practically small talk -- "How long do you think you've been here, anyway?" He sounded bored when he asked that, and not the fake bored of someone who's trying to pull a trick. That day a question made me sit up straight; it felt like being jabbed in the small of the back with an icicle. "What is the first duty of the prisoner?"

I stared at Asker blankly for several seconds. His gaze swiveled down from the ceiling and we looked at each other for a while; I remember watching him take several breaths. "What is the first duty of the prisoner?" "I.." My brain felt cold. I knew the shape of the answer. I knew it was a question I could honorably answer. I knew how many syllables were in each word, and I could almost feel the shape of the words in my mouth. But I didn't know what the answer was. "I don't know."

Asker's nostrils flared as he stood up. "You're sure you don't want to tell me?" I shrugged. "I can't say." It felt true at the time; I almost, almost knew, and could't quite get the words to take shape. "We're done for today, then." He called the squad back in and they took me back to my room. I fidgeted in the on the narrow cot until sleep took me.

Some days later, two security guys walked with me to the room where Asker was. The metal chairs were gone, as was the desk; in their place were two wooden armchairs and a coffee table. Asker went through the roll call of the usual questions. "When you were captured, you had 18 replacement magazines for your sidearm. Is that a common loadout for the mission you were on?" "Sorry, can't tell you that." "Any problems with the food these days?" "No, it's fine." "What is the first duty of the prisoner?" "...um. Um. I don't know?" But I did, sort of. It was just too fuzzy to reach. "We're done for the day, thank you." And the two security guys walked me back to my room. I felt tired, and was glad to sink into the bed.

After a few weeks, the regular guard came by to take me to see Asker. I gulped down the last of my coffee and we walked down the hall to his office.

Asker wasn't there. I looked at the guard, who smiled and shrugged as he wandered off. I waited in the office for about ten minutes, but it didn't seem like Asker was going to show up.

I took a walk around the corridors. Some of them still smelled of fresh paint. I caught a glimpse of sunlight and headed for it, and found myself on the steps, with the building and the mountain it was dug into at my back. Asker was there at the steps, walking up to me. "Hi. What's the first duty of the prisoner?" I laughed. "Damned if I know." He took my arm and we walked back into the building.