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Letters From Our Readers
by TSAT's loyal audience
©2002 Bard/Cubist -- all rights reserved

"Musfah here again."

"Once again, for those poor souls who don't remember me, Mal asked me to help out his friends Michael Bard and Cubist (MB&C). Even though government agencies have attempted to isolate me, I've managed to keep secret channels open whilst leading them on a wild goose chase."

"Although the next issue of TSAT is not yet out (it's not too late to submit -- for your own good), my monitoring of the TSA-talk mailing list has revealed to me a person who names himself Fox Mulda who has the mistaken belief of conspiracies from the TSA-talk list. There are no conspiracies, as I shall prove to that poor soul."

Once again you see the clean 'machine shop from hell' with two metal tables. One contains what you think might have once been a squirrel but the form is now motionless, no longer even breathing, and consists solely of a furry torso and head where the face and ears have been replaced with a series of thick metal and rubber tubes that stretch off the screen. Occasionally you think you can see a hair move, or a tube quiver, but there is no way to be sure. "Unfortunately S Squirrel has not been recovered, although he did produce '...was sitting in front of my capella...' three nights ago. It was probably just random chance though."

You hear a nearly mind-shattering screech, that sounds maybe human but mostly animal, and watch, helpless, as black metal tentacles drag in the screaming, wiggling body of a humanoid fox. You can see the creature's head, toes, and tip of tail, as the rest is either wrapped in the black metal tentacles or cloaked with a tan trench coat. Quickly the form is moved onto the second table and then strapped down by more black tentacles that exude themselves from the table surface. A black gas mask, the eyes sealed with black to prevent vision, lowers down and then wraps around the fox like a growing skin of glistening evil.

"Here he have the culprit who thinks that he is uncovering the 'truth' behind the TSA list -- and to think that he didn't even mention me. Oh well, I'm not vindictive."

The encoiled body shudders as though a strong current has just been passed through it.

"Now, the best way to deal with somebody searching for the truth is to give them a truth. The more plausible the better. Make sure that the wrong path looks hidden and inviting whilst the right path to the truth is open and deceptively clear. Thanks to S. Squirrel here, I've learned a lot about organic sensoria, and have found that the easiest way to insert information is through sensory deprivation and selective conditioning."

A clear crystal box, five sided, slides into view from the ceiling and clicks into contact with the metal table that contains Fox Mulda. Conveniently, a single hole exists through which passes the breathing tube from the mask that now completely seals off the fox's face. Through the same hydraulic connection that lowered the box, water starts to flow, pushing air out through the hole around the fox's breathing tube until the box is completely full and the fox is floating in the middle.

"The liquid isn't really water as I had to use a different liquid to make sure that Fox Mulda's body remained neutrally buoyant. As you can see there is still slight movement as he breathes, but that has been factored in. The air he is breathing is not normal air, but instead has a lower oxygen content and some anesthetics to make him more drowsy and susceptible. The liquid is maintained at body temperature, and the box dampens sound so at this point he can feel nothing, hear nothing, see nothing, scent nothing, and taste nothing. I am now going to start feeding him snippets of text whilst I provide limited electric shock to his brain, and selected tactile sensations along points on his body. Through the desperation of his sensorium to input, these snippets will cause his mind to construct complete scenes that he will swear to have actually happened. For your edification, I will allow you to hear the sounds I am playing for Fox Mulda's benefit."

As you listen, you hear weird distorted voices and words. Like all those old old stereo demonstration records where the audio track bounced from side to side, these voices and sounds bounce around the room, coming from all directions.

"...Transformation related Stories Art and Talk..."

"...Red Squirrel Alliance..."

"...crosses on lunar photos pass underneath rocks..."

"...manipulation of television..."


"...Devil Bunny Alliance..."

...sound of horse hooves and a human sounding neigh approaching and then vanishing...

"...sharp pointy teeth..."

"...amorphous blob of evil..."

...sound of deep breathing...

"...what is your blood type..."

"...we can't let the public know..."

"...monsters from the Id, John, monsters from the Id!"

"...and in the darkness bind them."

...sound of a fish slapping into flesh...

"...I didn't tell you but I had you made into a Brain..."

"...you mean that all I have to do is spend 500,000 years around a black hole?"

"...I'm from the government and I'm here to help you..."

"...a llama?! He's supposed to be dead!"

"...members of the order..."

"...I know your name because I'm a wizard..."

"...This is the Paulins Kill Viaduct..."

...sound of horses laughing...

Eventually the sounds fade to silence.

"It is now time to leave Mr. Mulda in his state of sensory deprivation for a while to allow the tidbits that I've supplied time to coalesce into fantasies created by his own mind. After that it is a simple matter to allow him to think that he escaped. S Squirrel's body will be seen by him, which should fuel his paranoia more.

"Mr. Mulda's next post should be interesting, and a test of my understanding of the organic psyche."

The lights go out and for a moment there is silence until you here Musfah's calm voice. "And I haven't forgotten about the rest of you who have not submitted to TSAT. Be warned, your day on the slab will come."

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