TECHNICAL
DIFFICULTIES
I'm
scribbling this hastily in the linen closet; it's dark in here, with
only the light which creeps in under the door, and I know that if
they find me, it's all over. But, I may be the only one who knows, and
there's nobody in here that I can talk to—nobody I can trust.
They're not about to get me that way. So, my only hope—our only
hope—is to get this to someone on the outside. Someone who can do
something.
My
name is ---------no, that doesn't matter—why make it easy for them?
For the last six years I've worked security for a local corporation.
But don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those law and order types. My
job was to sit in front of a battery of monitors and check the
corridors and the labs for unauthorized personnel. Only once in my
six years did anything untoward occur, and that turned out to be a
maintenance man who got off on the wrong floor.
The
truth is, I took the job because I love the tube. I guess you could
say I'm a video nut. As a kid I spent all my summers glued to the
TV while the other kids were out playing. I watched everything:
cartoons, game shows, soaps, talk shows, sit-com reruns. But most of
all, I loved the old movies, and I watched them whenever they were
on. It's a tragedy that they don't show those old black and whites
anymore. Too old, I guess; too “phony” for today's kids.
Anyway,
that's why I got the job, because it seemed the perfect way to get
paid for doing what I like to do best. On the night shift, after all
the offices and labs have been closed and everyone's
gone home, we hook the front hall monitor up to a TV tuner. The
higher-ups know about it, and nobody cares. Anyway, about a year ago,
I began to notice something peculiar.
Have
you ever been sitting in a theatre watching a movie when words come
out, but the person who is supposed to be speaking didn't open their
lips? That's called “voicing over.” They
didn't used to do it much, but they do it on everything nowadays.
It's
very subtle. Most of the time you never even notice, but once in a
while a careless cut might throw out the sync and the voice won't fit
the lips. Sometimes the levels are wrong, creating a disparity
between the different voices. Other times the actors on the screen
aren't talking at all, but they're far away, and they figured you
wouldn't notice a few extra words.
But,
I did! Then, it got worse. Even programs
that were supposed to be live began to look dubbed. They're very
good. It takes a practiced eye to catch them. Usually, they're only a
fraction of a millisecond off. But they're off! Even the news
reporters aren't really live anymore.
It
all fell into place about three months ago, though, when I was home
watching the President on TV.
“We
all know that the best defense is a good
offense,” he said, “And so
I am instituting a new program that will show the world, both our
enemies and our allies, that we will not stand still and watch our
world be imperiled by evil, Godless monsters.” He frowned, to show
that he meant business, then he smiled and continued. “Therefore,
in order to fight these VICIOUS, GOD-FORSAKEN HOOLIGANS, the
following steps will be taken....”
Well,
you know all about the steps. The whole world does. But, you see, I
was watching the President. They tried to pull back from him and show
the the flag and the Oval Office, but I saw it! The President was
over-dubbed! The words that we were hearing were not the words that
he was speaking.
I
couldn't even begin to fathom the implications of that truth. I still
don't have it all worked out, but at the time, I about flipped. I
burst out of my place and took the stairs to Leo and Melanie's
apartment three at a time. Melanie came to the door; Leo was still
sitting in front of the set.
“Well,?”
I said, “Did you see it?”
“Sure,”
he said, “but it wasn't all that exciting to come running up here
about! Besides, I've seen it before a million times. It is a kick,
though, when Lucy starts stuffin' those candies down her blouse.”
Melanie started giggling and Leo laughed hard.
“NO!”
I shouted, “I mean the President's
speech. Didn't you see the President just now? His 'Cleansing the
World' speech?”
“Oh,
no,” said Melanie. “We always catch him on the Eleven O'clock
News.”
“But
they don't show the whole speech on the news!” I said.
“No,
but they show you the important parts, and they tell you what he
said,” Leo answered and then frowned. “What the hell is all this
about, anyway?”
“That
wasn't the President speaking!” I said, raising my voice. Suddenly,
I thought of all the speeches that I'd seen on
the news: The anchor smiling sincerely and summarizing what some
person said, while a picture of the speaker is superimposed on the
background. Maybe they let you hear a few words by the speaker—rarely
more than a sentence—before switching to a new story. You don't
really get ANY of the speech!
“What
the Hell are you talking about?” Leo said.
Old
Leo can get pretty testy, but I was surprised at such an antagonistic
tone.
“Yes,
Scott, Darling,” Melanie chimed in cheerfully. “Whatever are you
talking about?”
But
this time I was watching. She was over by the wet bar fixing a vodka
water. She had her back partially turned from me; nevertheless, when
she spoke, her voice level sounded slightly off, and I could've sworn
that the voice started before her lips began to move. Oh, they're
very good, as I've said, but I saw.
“Oh...I...uh...was
just joking,” I stammered. “I mean, it was a great speech ...
Better than usual, I mean.”
“They're
always great,” Melanie said, but she was looking at me queerly,
almost suspiciously. Leo wore the same puzzled but accusing look.
“Hey,
you okay, Buddy?” he asked. His eyes showed concern, but his lips
were off. Nearly imperceptible, I'll grant you, but off!
Needless
to say, I got out of there post haste. I've tried not to raise their
suspicions, but now I realize they must be everywhere. The desk
sergeant, the doctor, most of the nurses: they're all a part of it.
The terrible thing is, I don't know how they can tell us from them.
Some of them are so good that you'd
never notice if you weren't really watching, and, of course, watching
is a dead giveaway.
So
I don't watch their lips, except on the sly. And I don't talk to
anybody. I figure that's the most likely way for them to recognize
us, and like I said, they're not going get me if I can help it.
I'm
going to try to hide this letter in the outgoing laundry and hope
that it gets to someone on the outside. I can't give my name or where
the asylum is because they could find me. If you're not one of them,
though, you've got to warn people. And remember, WATCH THEIR LIPS!
From the short story collection, So, It's All Done With Mirrors; That's No Reflection on You
©1985
Tim McMullen
All
rights reserved
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