Dangerous Science

Chapter 8
The Librarian

Melissa Hadley checked her watch for with hundredth time that evening. How was it possible for an eight-hour shift to feel like eighty? Working the front desk at the library on an evening in the middle of term was never an exciting job. That was why she brought work to do each night. But now the work was done and she still had an hour and ten minutes to go. God, could time go by any slower?

A Middle Eastern looking young man entered from the doors in front of her. She didn’t recognise him from around campus, though that wouldn’t be unusual, there were over six thousand students. It was unusual to see someone of his complexion here. There weren’t too many Middle Eastern Roman Catholics. She assumed he was Lebanese. There were a handful of them here. He was clean-shaven and well-dressed, but he was acting a bit oddly. He didn’t walk straight up to her desk to present his ID. Instead he was looking all around the library atrium behind her. He finally looked right at her and began walking forwards, only to stop abruptly and put his book bag down, seeming to look in it for something.

Two students passed by her right side, waving their farewells. She nodded back and watched them stride past the stranger and out the doors. As they left, the kneeling man glanced quickly over his shoulder to watch the door close behind them. Then he rose from his kneel and headed straight for her, placing his left hand on the desk and giving her a quick smile.

“ID please,” she said in a monotone. She was too tired to be friendly tonight.

“Oh yes, let me see, I have it somewhere here,” he replied, seeming to feel around his pocket with his hidden right hand, but his eyes scanning the area behind her. She was surprised by his accent, it wasn’t foreign at all.

His eyes finished scanning and suddenly locked on hers. He grinned again. “Ah, there we go,” he announced. In a flash he grabbed her right arm in a vice-like grip and his right hand appeared, some kind of hypodermic gun in it. He yanked her arm forward and pressed the hypo to it, pulling the trigger before she could even react.

As Melissa felt a sharp stab in her forearm she was filled with panic. She was so scared she couldn’t even speak, couldn’t call out. Her instinct was to scream but she had no air. Her mouth opened but she made no noise at all. Her attacker was already pocketing the hypo, his other hand still holding her in a tight grip. And he was still smiling at her.

“Don’t try to fight it. There’s no point. It’s already in your bloodstream now and you’ll feel it any second,” he whispered to her.

Melissa didn’t want to know what he meant. She just wanted to get away. She pulled back with all her strength and found her voice at last. “Let go of me you fucking bastard!” she yelled.

The man was clearly sweating now, his eyes darting right and left to see if someone was coming to her aide. Any second now the security guard would arrive and save her. He had to. But she felt funny all of a sudden. Her head felt warm and the edges of her vision seemed to blur. Sounds seemed to extend and the whole world seemed to grow distant. She was having trouble keeping her train of thought. But the man’s eyes were locked on something to her right now. She could hear footsteps approaching.

“What the hell’s going on here?”

It was a male voice. It took a second but Melissa recognised it as George, the night security guard. The footsteps grew closer until she could feel his presence just behind her, inside the front booth.

“Get your hand off her!” she heard George order, his voice rough, commanding.

The stranger’s smile was long gone now. She tried to remember who he was, why she was screaming before. His right hand was back in a flash. But he wasn’t holding a hypo this time. It was a semi-automatic handgun equipped with a long black cylinder on the front which she recognised from movies as being a silencer. There was barely a sound when he pulled the trigger, just a bright muzzle-flash. She heard a muffled gasp to her right, then the sound of a heavy body crumpling to the floor beside her.

The stranger pocketed the weapon as quickly as he’d drawn it. He looked all around then back at her, smiling again. “Allah protects those who serve his will,” he told her.

Melissa nodded, it was nice that Allah, whoever he was, protected people. The stranger smiled broader now and released her arm. She was glad it was free, it hurt when he held it. She didn’t move, didn’t even think of it. His hand brushed across her cheek. It felt nice, she smiled. She felt light-headed, giddy and nice.

“You have been given a powerful drug that makes you highly suggestible,” the man explained. “Do not fear, it does no permanent damage. In fact it should wear off in a couple hours. I will be done by then in any case. You aren’t afraid anymore. You feel calm and relaxed, isn’t that right?”

Melissa nodded. She did feel calm and ever so relaxed. She was glad the nice man was here to tell her these things.

“You are going to be my special helper tonight. We will be helping to free women like you from the burden of being smart. It is terrible being so smart, makes you all so unhappy, so angry. They will pretend they don’t want to be dumb, but it is an act. All women want to be dumber, ignorance is bliss. You will help me to give them bliss.”

Melissa agreed of course. How had she not realised all this before? All these years she’d worked so hard to get good grades, go to college, to get smarter. And all that time all she really wanted was to be dumb and happy.

The stranger drew a box of adult diapers out of his backpack. “We’re going to be freeing these women from the burden of intelligent thought. When we’re done they’ll probably need these. But that’s okay, they won’t mind. They’ll enjoy wearing them.”

Melissa understood completely. Everything the man said was so brilliant. Of course women would be more comfortable in diapers, just like sweet little innocent babies.

“What’s your name?” the man asked.

“Melissa.”

“Hmm. Okay, we’ll call you Missy from now on. Okay Missy?”

“Yes.”

“What’s your name again?”

“Missy.”

The man seemed pleased that she remembered her name correctly. That made her feel good too.

“Okay Missy, what you really want to do right now is get changed into a diaper yourself. In fact you love wearing diapers and nothing else. You feel so nice and free in just your diaper. You hate wearing clothes like a smart young woman because what you really want to be is a dumb little girl.”

Missy unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it off. Then she moved on to her jeans. They were designer jeans in fact, tight and low-cut so as to attract male attention. They were definitely something for a sexy young woman to wear, not a dumb girl like she wanted to be. It felt so nice to get them off, to be free and open. She’d already kicked off her shoes to remove the jeans. Now she yanked off her socks as well, wiggling her toes in freedom. She unhooked her bra next and let out a sigh of relief as her breast jiggled free. The man had placed a thick white diaper on the counter before her. She yanked her panties down and grabbed the diaper, taping it onto herself with skill that came from years of babysitting.

The man looked her body up and down, practically licking his lips. Then his eyes flicked to the left and he ordered, “Close your eyes, sit on the floor and don’t make a sound.”

Missy did as she was told instantly. A moment later she heard footsteps passing nearby, a couple of students chatting as they passed the desk. They didn’t stop and thankfully didn’t look over the low counter into the booth lest they see the nearly naked woman on the floor or the dead guard’s body slumped against the rear wall.

As soon as they were gone the man was back, telling Missy it was time for them to move. She stood eagerly and let him take her hand, leading her out of the booth.

“Where is there a private place for us to talk a moment?” he asked.

“There’s a storage room through there,” she informed him, pointing to a door marked ‘Staff Only’.

He led her into the room, a small little storage space packed with books. There in the dim fluorescent light he dug into his backpack again and drew out a strange looking contraption. It was a semi-circular piece of thin metal that would fit comfortably around someone’s head. At either end a prong jutted out fitting right where they could be pressed against someone’s temples. At the mid-point of the metal arc a handle jutted downwards, equipped with a couple simple switches and a dial. The man seemed to behold the odd device with some awe before facing Missy again.

“Well Missy I’m afraid I need to see just how well this thing actually works. And really I think it would be best if you couldn’t think for yourself too much. I won’t turn it up to full power though, I need you still capable of aiding me for the rest of the evening.”

“What is it?” she asked, curious.

“I’ve been told it lowers intelligence. If it works there will be no more college for you, no more career. You’ll need a man to take care of you for the rest of your life. Just the way it should be.”

Missy felt a little nervous as the man stepped around behind her, fiddling with the dial before slipping the metal arc across the base of her head, just above the ears. The two prongs on the ends pressed gently against her temples and she didn’t like the cool metal on her skin.

There was a low electrical hum as the device powered up. Missy wondered what being dumb would be like. Would it be a lot different than being smart? Would it really be nicer, make her happier? Somewhere deep inside her mind a little voice screamed that this was the last thing she wanted, that she didn’t want to be prancing about dumb and nearly nude before everyone. But in her drug-induced haze the voice was but a distant echo.

The man pulled back on the trigger and the electrical hum in her ear grew louder. Then she felt a wave of powerful tingles shoot into her head from left and right. It seemed to instantly turn brain cells into free radicals, releasing a powerful feeling of pleasure. Her brain reacted to the assault by pumping out endorphins, giving her an incredible high. Missy moaned as her mind was scrambled.

The machine powered down and Missy felt the now warm metal slipping off her head. All the questions she had before were gone now. She felt quite silly, sitting in this big reading room. Her eyes scanned over all the books sitting on shelves around her and she couldn’t help but giggle. She knew she worked in this library but now she found that quite funny as she didn’t know for the life of her how she’d ever done something so complex as reading. She didn’t know what any of the words on the books meant. She wasn’t even sure which letters were which. The man heard her giggling too.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Can’t read,” she chuckled, feeling delightfully empty-headed.

“That’s funny?” he asked.

“Uh-huh! Me li...li... libarian, but can’t read nothin’.”

“So you remember being smart?” he asked her.

Missy nodded emphatically. “Missy was a sma’t girl. Don’ feel sma’t no more,” she chuckled, finding the whole thing delightful.

“Getting dumb felt nice did it?” he asked.

She nodded again.

“Would you like to help me make other girls feel nice like you too?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Wonderful.”