“What sort of readings are you getting off Recip 4?” Adam asked.
            “Doesn’t seem to be responding to the X-pattern stim,” Jason responded, “That’s odd.  Let me try the Y-pattern.”  
“Still nothing from him,” Adam commented after a few moments.
“What are the reads from the other Recips?” Jason asked.
“Usual stuff,” Adam said while reviewing the monitors, “Recips 2 through 7 are reacting normally to the stims for Recips that age.  8 through 12 are a little off, but that’s to be expected.  We’re going back and forth from AB-patterns to MNs.  It’s an odd combo.  As for the others, nothing unusual.”
Jason looked at Recip 4 closely.  “Oh, that’s it, he’s dead.”
“Really?” Adam asked.  He walked away from the monitors, stood over Recip 4, and looked down at him.  After a few seconds Adam noticed that Recip 4 was no longer breathing, “Yep, he’s dead.  Let’s unhook him and put in a request for another Recip.”
“What do you think did it?” Jason asked.
“No idea, man.”
“What stim did we show him before the X?” Jason looked at Recip 4’s chart, “Ahh, mystery solved.  We showed him the G stim.  No need for the autopsy.”
            “Come on, Jason,” Adam said laughing, “The ads aren’t that boring.”
            “Yeah, but they’re pretty close.”
            “No argument here,” Adam agreed.  
“Let’s check the rest of the Recips and shut it down,” Jason said.
            “You think the Recips notice the break they get between shifts?”
            “Who cares?” Jason responded sourly.

            After turning off the Stimulus Projectors, disconnecting the feeds to the Recipients, and, as a result of Recip 4’s death, checking to make sure that the Recips were alive, Adam and Jason went to the break room for their usual post-shift coffee.  They walked down a long, white hallway with a few flickering fluorescent lights.  A janitor dressed in blue walked past Adam and Jason and set about changing the lights.
            “Damn but I hate the graveyard shift,” Jason said while sitting down with his coffee.
            “I second that,” Adam agreed while taking off his gray coat.
            “Makes me wonder why I even got into this business,” Jason yawned, “Why’d you do it?”
            “That’s kind of a tough one,” Adam began, “I wanted to be a doctor since I was a kid.  I’ve always been interested in the how the brain works.  How people think, how people react to stimuli, basically everything about the brain.  I wanted to solve problems, make advances, help people out, and make a shit ton of money.  You know, the usual.”
            “I just wanted to prescribe chicks drugs in return for sex,” Jason commented bitterly.
            “Never been above that,” Adam said in between sips of coffee, “How’d you end up here?”
            “Got pinched prescribing drugs to a chick who turned out to be a cop.”
            The two drank their coffee in silence.
            “You told me why you became a doctor,” Jason started, “but not how you ended up here.  What brought you to the Island, Adam?”
            Adam thought about his past for a few moments.  He stared into his black coffee before answering.
            “I had just finished med school and was looking for something challenging, something where I’d get to be on the cutting edge.  I got a call from a guy who worked for a pharmaceutical company in R&D, said he was looking for people who wanted to do just that kind of work.  I went in for an interview and it went well.  I met with several people, they told me that I would get to study the mind, thought processes.  They told me that I would be part of a team trying to figure out how the brain works and how the body and mind fit together.”
            “They told you that you would pioneer the defeat of mental illnesses which have held back humanity for centuries, right?”
            “Yeah, yeah they did.  I doubt they gave you the same speech.”
            “Nope, but some of the other guys I’ve worked with got the same bill of goods,” Jason paused to cough, “I’m guessing you didn’t get quite what you expected.”
            “Well, I mean I knew that I would have to live here, that I couldn’t leave, but, no, I didn’t expect this.  I should have known something was up.  I mean, you don’t get inexperienced med school grads to do the kind of things I was told we would do.”
            “They tell you they wanted a fresh look at things?”
            “Yeah,” Adam chuckled a little, “a couple guys told me that before I even thought to ask.  They were good.  Knew exactly what to say to keep me from getting suspicious.”
            Neither spoke for a few moments.  Suddenly Jason quietly said, “I wish I had known about the Island up front.”
            “The Island I can handle.  It’s the Recips.”
            “What do you mean?”
            “You know what I mean, you work with them everyday just like I do.”
            “I don’t work with the Recips, I monitor their responses to the stims,” Jason said without much conviction.
            “Listen to me,” Adam said as he leaned closer to Jason and lowered his voice, “The Recips . . . Hell, the people, they’re vegetables!  They’re sedated all the time.  They don’t get up, they don’t move around, they don’t respond to anything.  I mean, where the hell do these people come from?  Where do they find people to be Recips?”
            “Probably the same way they find us and everyone else who works here.”
            “Yeah, but what do you think the Recips are told?”
            “Hell, I don’t know,” Jason grumbled, “Probably just tell them they can get some money to pay off their debts, or get out of legal troubles.  You know, that sort of thing.”
            “But do you think that the Recips know about the vegetative state up front?  Do they know why?”
            “Man, I don’t know.  I doubt it, and I doubt that they even care.  The Recips are hard up and desperate for something, so ‘why’ is probably the last question on their mind.”
            “Were they hard up?”
            “What?”
            “Think about it for a minute,” Adam said, “Do you really believe that people would consent to this sort of thing, even if they were in serious trouble?  To agree to a lifetime of having different ads pumped into your brain so that companies can see which ads are the best at moving inventory?  Christ, the Recips will never be able to walk again!  Their muscles atrophy while they sit on those beds, it’s irreversible!  Do you really think that people would agree to this sort of thing if they were told about it?  I mean, committing a crime, yeah, I can see that.  If you get caught, you’re still alive.  But this?  This?  Who would agree to this?”
            “So,” Jason said in between sips of coffee, “how do you think the Recips ended up here?”
            Adam sighed and looked down at his feet.  He kicked the floor a bit with his right foot and then scratched his chin with his left hand.  He took in a breath and sighed.
            “Kidnapped.”
            “Kidnapped?”
            “Yeah, kidnapped.  I think these people were kidnapped.”
            “What makes you think that?”
            “Well, when a new batch of Recips come in, it’s odd.  They aren’t all starved, they don’t all have bad teeth, they aren’t all suffering from sort of illness, some are, but most clearly had health care and received regular medical treatment.  Some of the Recips have signs of medical problems, but most don’t.  Most of them look like regular people.  Your theory explains the Recips with health problems, but not the others, not the majority of the Recips.  And beyond that, there’s a wide variety in the ages of the Recips.  Some are in their twenties, some are in their sixties, you know how it is, you see the Recips every day.”
            “Yeah.”
            “So, why would people who don’t have serious problems do this?  Why would so many people agree to this?  Why would people of all different ages with no indications of economic, legal, or medical problems willingly come here?”
            Jason frowned, “I have no idea.”
            The two said nothing else.  Each refilled his cup, but not at the same time.  They finished their coffee in silence and waited.
            Shortly after Adam took his last sip of coffee, two men dressed in white carrying pistols walked into the break room.  Adam and Jason nodded to the men and got up.  They threw their cups away.  Adam put his coat back on, and then walked over to the men.  Adam and Jason walked out of the break room and the two men in white fell in behind them.  The four men walked down the hall until they came to a row of cells.
            One of the men in white moved in front of Adam and Jason, swiped a card, and unlocked two of the cells.  Adam and Jason walked into their cells and the man in white locked them in. 
            “Your breakfast will be brought to you in eight hours.  We will be back at the start of your next shift.”
            The men in white walked away and Adam and Jason went to sleep.

            “Are they asleep?”
            “Yes, sir.”