[center][h2]Azulvista System[/h2][/center]

[center][h3]Mt Sajama[/h3][/center]

The nurse's face was impassive. He set the IV drip in place, then gave a few tugs at the leather straps to make sure they were secured tight. He took up a position in the rear of the small interrogation room, before the door swung open and a well-dressed OSE operative entered the room. He took a seat opposite the prisoner, before smiling genially. "Hello there." He rummaged through an office satchel, before taking out a few small electronic instruments and a notebook. 

"¿Who the fuck are you?"

The interrogator glanced up for a brief moment, before clearing his throat. Then, he pressed a small button on the first of his instruments, the screen lighting up. He paused for a moment, shifted its position on the table, nodding to himself.

"Interrogation 11 with Rebel Prisoner."

"Interrogation 11?"

The operative paused for a long moment, then turned towards the prisoner. "I'll explain in just a moment." Another genial smile, then he repeated himeslf. "Interrogation 11 with Rebel Prisoner, 2/9/2/600. Prisoner is restrained and short-term memory blocks applied."

"¿Short term WHAT?"

"Ahem. Let us begin." He finally turned back to the prisoner. "I feel confident in saying this because I have explained it to you before, but each time you forget." He chuckled a little. "Don't worry, if I disliked it, I wouldn't do this job." He clicked the end of his pen once, then began to scribble down a few notes, the sound of the pen on the paper deafeningly loud in the otherwise completely silent room.

"The IVs that my assistant there kindly applied to you are some of our most fantastic pharmaceutical advances yet. We know Earth governmwents were experimenting with chemically induced mind control as far back as the 20th century. Now, what [i]they[/i] wanted to do was impossible, as far as we can tell, but what we [i]can[/i] do would no doubt impress them immensely. Narcosynthesis." He tapped the end of his pen down a few times.

"A suggestive and pliant state wherin the subject's ability to generate short term memory is suppressed. I'm afraid we've talked to each other before now." 

The drugs were starting to take effect now. The prisoner seemed to want to react with horror, but he seemed quite incapable of doing so. The interrogator scribbled down more notes.

"So tell me friend, what's your name?"

---

"Interrogation over. Thank you nurse."  The man folded his instruments back into his satchel, and rose from his seat, spine clicking into place. With a brief wave to the nurse, he unlocked the heavy, soundproof door and stepped out into the wider facility. He always found sites like this to be so needlessly imposing. It wasn't as if those imprisoned here would not be sufficiently imposed by the guards and enhanced questioning techniques, now would it?

Still. Somebody had to do it. The people in Mt Sajama were terrorists, traitors and enemies of the state. The gusanos ranted about how they swept people off the street in black vans, but that could hardly be further from the truth. The man only saw the worst of the worst. He gave his watch a brief glance, nodding quietly to himself. He had time enough for lunch and some paperwork before his next appointment.