Return To The Previous Story: Encounter
Darrell Jones is a sixty-three year old white male with thining, grey hair. He is 6'1" and weighs about 165 pounds. He is wearing a dark blue business suit. Darrell is the creator and host of a reality TV show where employees who work for the same company are placed head to head against each other. He does not care about the contestants or the crew helping him make the show. He just wants to see his show do as well as possible.
Frank Lennox woke up and looked at the room around him. He was still wearing his white labcoat as he had been instructed to do the night before. The room around him was the same dull white color with no furniture other than the plain bed with dull white sheets. The door was on the opposite side of the bed and led down a dull white hallway. On the other side of the hallway was an electronic door that which at the moment was closed.
"I see you are awake," said a voice coming through a speaker at an unknown location. "When you are ready, approach the electronic door. Behind the door, you will see a white button. That button is not to be pressed under any circumstances. Do I make myself clear?"
Frank nodded. Not knowing what else to do, he approached the electronic door. He thought about what he might have done to get himself in to this situation, but nothing came to mind. For ten years he had worked in the laboratory for production company. His job was to test the special effects used for movies and television shows. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of people did the same job he did and nothing he had done really stood out from the others.
As soon as Frank reached the electronic door, it slid open. A door on the other side of the room slid open at the same time. It was George, one of the people he knew from work. By the impatient look on his face, he had probably been waiting quite some time for the door to open.
In the center of the room, directly between them was a small, rectangular table with two chairs. At the center of the table was a white button. Neither of them knew what the button did and neither of them dared to press it. Their host had made it clear the button was not to be pressed. A single wire was connected to the button and led to a hole in the wall directly between Frank and George to Frank's right. Someone wanted things to be as balanced as possible.
"This does not look good," Frank sighed.
Looking at George, Frank noticed how similar the two of them appeared. Frank was 35 with short brown hair, brown eyes. He was 5'9" and weighed 170 pounds. George was also in his thirties with medium length blonde hair and blue eyes. He was the same height and a little bit heavier. Both of them were white males, they worked for the same company, and even had on similar looking white labcoats. It was also clear they were both unwilling volunteers for some sort of experiment.
"Who are you?" George demanded of his unseen host. "What do you want with us?"
"My name is not important," came the reply. "and what I want is for the two of you to stop fighting."
Frank and George had argued with each other many times over the years. The worst of those arguements had been in the last few days, but again nothing really stood out. Compared to some of the other arguements he had seen, his arguements with George were mild. They never threw any punches at each other and never used company time to continue yelling at each other. Even ranking his own arguements, none of his arguements with George would be in the top ten. It did not make sense for them to be where they were.
"I just want to get out of here," said George.
"Me too," agreed Frank.
"I could release you," said their host. "Your shared experience in this place will end your fighting for a few days, maybe even a few weeks. It will not be pernament. Your fighting will eventually continue. This will not do. I intend to end your arguements once and for all."
"Send us to different cities," pleaded George. "Just let us go." "We will argue again," said Frank. "Like all human beings, it is our nature. We have to take the bad along with the good to get the overall picture."
George gave Frank a look. Frank returned the glare evenly.
"Yet again you have proven to me that your fighting will not end," said their host. "More drastic measures have to be taken. Between you is the white button I told you not to press earlier. Neither of you will know what the button does until you press it and neither of you wants to face the consequences of pressing a button that should not be pressed."
Frank considered pressing the button right then and there, but he knew their situation was far too complex for the button to be just an idol threat so he quickly reconsidered. He wondered if there was some other way to figure out what the button did. Carefully examining the wire, he followed it back to the hole in the wall but could go no further.
"What are you going to do?" George asked the host.
"See which one of you will press the button first," their host replied. "It is only a matter of time."
George grew tense. He had no intention of waiting indefinitely.
"Try to relax," Frank warned him. "We need to make the best of things."
Frank leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. If the room had a window, ceiling titles, or a visible air vent he might be able to formulate a plan. As it was, there was not much he could do. George leaned forward and let out a sigh. His hand moved slowly towards the button. Then he quickly pulled it back again. Frank turned his chair away from George and the button. Once again he tried to determine what the button might do without pressing it. He considered the possibility that the button might cause something good to happen. This was highly unlikely. Since their host made it clear the button was not to be pressed, he knew it was a real danger. With no further ideas, he closed his eyes and went to sleep.
Some time later, he awoke to the blaring sound of an alarm. A door opened in the wall opposite the wire. George looked at Frank, then ran out the open door. Frank knew what had happened. He thought about following George but felt it best to stay where he was. The door slammed shut and turned transparent so Frank could see George was trapped in a room about the size of a closet. He could see the look of horror on George's face.
A trapdoor opened underneath him. George fell on to a slide and slid away. Frank had no idea where George was going but he knew he would not return.
"Your fight is over," said the host. "Congratulations, you have done well."
"Am I free to go?" asked Frank.
"No, you have advanced to the second round," said the host. "Brenda is your next opponent. Since you already know about the button, I will have to come up with something different but I assure you it will be exciting."
Frank was not sure whether he had won or lost.
Just one floor above, Darrell Jones sat watching his actions through several hidden cameras. His crew would edit, with his approval of course, the footage into twenty-five minute segments. Those segments would be aired at various locations all over the world sometime during the next year. Darrell was tall and skinny with thining grey hair. Frank knew him only as a voice, but he was the host of one of the most popular reality TV shows of all time.
A middle aged woman approached him.
"Ratings for the third season are still going up," she reported. "The network has already approved a fifth season for The Button."
She handed him the documents from the network. He opened the bottom drawer of his desk and shoved them in the middle of a stack of other documents without even bothing to look at them. He looked at his watch and then the television screen to make his point.
"We still have not completed the fourth season," said Darrell. "The crew will need to work an average of 72 hours a week for the next 3 month to make sure we finish on time." "Their union is already complaining about the working conditions," the woman reminded him. "If you put any more pressure on them they may go on strike."
"Many people would be glad to work on this show for half the pay I give them," said Darrell. "Either they will agree to my terms or they can find work elsewhere. That reminded me. Since Frank survived the first round, you will need to go down there and talk to him yourself. Do not let me down, Brenda." "Are you sure that's wise?" asked Brenda. "What if he figures it out?"
"If he does, don't stop him," said Darrell. "He could make this our most popular show ever."
Brenda sighed. She did not like decieving people but Darrell insisted on using members of his own crew for this episode. Unlike most of them, she had the advantage of knowing what was going on. Frank worked in another department and had said in a questionare that he had never watched The Button. Even so, rumors about the show were everywhere so she would have to be on her guard.
Frank returned to the room with the bed. He had gone through a rough day only to find himself right back where he started. Although he had only met Brenda several times, he remembered who she was. She had a high ranking position in another department but that had not spared her from this unwanted experiment.
"Brenda has entered the room and is now seated at the table," the host said with a slight bit of glee instead of his usual emotionless tone.
"This experiement is too much for me," said Frank. "I forfeit the competition. Brenda can have whatever prize you are giving away, or at least she can go to round three. I've had it!" "I had a feeling you would feel that way," said the host. "That is why the two of you will need to find another way out of your new home. The winner will be the first one to find the safe exit. Whether or not you share your information is entirely up to you."
Frank wondered how safe the safe exit really was but he kept his thoughts to himself. He not care who found the exit as long as he could get out of the series of white rooms. As he expected Brenda was wearing a white lab coat just like George had worn and he was still wearing. Even another color would have made things more interesting.
"You must be Brenda," Frank said to the woman in the white labcoat.
"And you must be Frank," said Brenda.
Frank pointed to the white button at the center of the table.
"This is not the way out," he said. "I already know that," she replied. "That button is nothing but trouble." "Since our host likes to keep things as equal as possible, I would guess the safe exit would be in the center of the room somewhere," said Frank. "Perhaps a hidden door in the ceiling or floor." Just above them Darrell was pleased with how close Frank had come to the correct answer.
"Or two doors on opposite sides of the room or in the sleeping chambers," Brenda added not wanting to sound like she knew too much.
Frank considered the sleeping chambers but thought his idea was better. He began his search on the wall to his right, just above the wire. Brenda stood motionless watching him.
"Help me look!" Frank insisted. "It will be much easier if the two of us work together."
Brenda began searching the other wall.
"The door on that wall leads to a trap door," said Frank. "Under the table might be a good place to look."
Brenda looked under the table while Frank continued searching the wall. After searching as high as he could reach, he pulled up a chair to examine the top part of the wall. Brenda took a close look at the floor underneath the table and the area around the table even though she knew it was not the right place to look.
"Why do you think they are doing this?" she asked. "It is some sort of experiement," said Frank. "Our host is putting us through various situations and recording the data. None of this was done with our permission. There should be some sort of law against this." "What do you think of our host?" asked Brenda. "Do you know his name?"
Frank did not reply right away. The questions came rapidly and he did not want to say anything too bad about the host while still his prisoner.
"He did not tell me his name," Frank said at last. "I do not think he should be doing this type of experiement, especially without our permission."
"He just pushes a button and watches us jump," agreed Brenda. "Do you think we will ever find out the purpose of this experiment?" "I don't know," said Frank. "I just want to get out of here. Why do you think this is happening?"
Brenda was caught off guard. People who asked many questions often recieved many questions in return. This was something she was willing to do for the sake of the show, but this particular question left her struggling for an answer.
"I agree it is some sort of experiement," she stammered. "Everything is kept a dull white and approximately symetrical. I have no idea how many rounds they are going to have but eventually will they declare a winner. Once they do, we should be able to find out what is going on."
"How many more hours of torture are we going to go through in the meantime?" asked Frank almost forgetting he was trying not to anger the host. "How many people are victims of this experiement? Four? Eight? Sixteen? Sixtyfour? It's not worth it!" Brenda did not agree with what was going on herself and yet she was willingly a part of it because her job depended on it. It was not even a job she needed. She had enough money to retire and live comfortably for the rest of her life.
"Just keep looking," she told him. "There is bound to be an exit somewhere."
Satisfied with his search of the wall, Frank turned his attention towards the ceiling. Being careful to avoid the button, he stood on the table and stretched towards the ceiling. He still couldn't reach it. Frank put on of the chairs on the table, stood on the chair, and reached for the ceiling again. Directly above the white button was a yellowish stain that appeared almost invisible. He pushed the stain. A panel opened up in the ceiling and emerged extending all the way to the floor.
"This must be the safe exit," gasped Frank. He had been wanting to get out of the series of white rooms for quite some time but now that he was finally able to do it he was not so sure about it. Brenda, on the other hand, had no problem climbing up the ladder. She had been there less than an hour but she did not want to stay there any longer.
Once Brenda started up the ladder, Frank followed close behind. When he got to the top, he looked around the room in amazement.
Most of the room was occupied by computer equipment. One wall was filled with monitor screens showing the series of white room where he had just been from various camera angles. Just in front of the monitor screens, facing them, was a tall, thin, elderly man who he immediate knew was their host. "At last we meet," said the host with his usual calm voice. "What is this all about?" demaned Frank.
Frank looked over at Brenda who did not seem too surprised about their current situation. Brenda turned her head away, ashamed of what she had done.
"Although Brenda was the first one to reach this room, Frank was the first one to actually find the exit," said the host. "Frank is the winner and advances to round three. Brenda, you may now leave."
Many people did what Mr. Jones said without even questioning why it should be done and many more were willing to work for him without even knowing what the job was like. He was an expert at manipulating people on both sides of the camera and he would keep on doing it because no one had ever dared to challenge him.
Two security guards came to escort Brenda away, but Brenda refused to go. The security guards did not do anything because the cameras were still rolling. Standing at attention, they waited for further intructions.
"No, Darrell," said Brenda. "I am not leaving!"
Frank looked at the host who he now knew as Darrell and then back at Brenda.
"Leave now if you value you job!" warned Darrell no longer seeming to care about remaining emotionless or what he was giving away."
"This has gone far enough," said Brenda. "This is nothing more than a reality television show. Everything you did was just entertainment for this guy over here and for millions of viewers worldwide."
Frank remained silent because he was trying to understand it all, but this was too much for him. He refused to remain silent and motionless while all these things were happening around him. "All this was for a television show?" cried Frank. "What did you do with George?"
"George is safe," Darrell replied with his usual emotionless tone.
"You are so used to getting your way that you have lost all touch with reality," said Brenda. "I have news for you. You don't have to fire me, I QUIT! Not only that, I hope other leave as well because without them you won't have a show."
Brenda stormed out the door and clearly had no intention of ever returning. A few people in the production crew left with Brenda but most of them stayed where they were.
"If you want to make your show more interesting, make yourself a contestant," said Frank. "Put yourself through some of the same tortures you've given to other people. Get your team to put you through some of these games so you will know what it is like when you give these games to others."
Darrell squirmed at the very idea and Frank knew this is what would happen.
"I challenge you," said Frank. "I bet you can not go twenty-four hours without pressing the button." More members of the crew left and continued to leave one at a time. Darrell could edit Frank's comments from the viewers but he could not hide his actions from the crew. "Alright, I'll go down there," said Darrell. "Twenty-four hours should be easy."
Darrell appointed someone else to watch the monitors. Then he climbed down the ladder and shut the door. Frank did not even bother to find out who was watching the monitors. He walked out of the building and headed for home. The next day someone had leaked to the press that Darrell had pressed the button after less than two hours. His popularity dropped, various activist groups started boycotting his show, and the sponcers soon followed. It would not be long before the network pulled the show off the air altogether.
After all that, Frank knew it would be easy to get an interview with practically anybody. For the time being though, he just wanted to rest. The last few days had been rough.
Copyright 2007, Steve Lucky
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