Dr. Vivian Heller knocked twice on the door, and then entered the examination room. Nurse Cynthia followed after her.
Lise Fine sat on the examination table, which was situated against the back wall. The table’s head was elevated at a close-to-90-degree angle, so that Lise sat nearly upright against it. She had been absently playing with a curled strand of her long amber hair, and she looked up with an embarrassed grin as the professionals approached her.
An attractive young woman in her early 20’s, Lise wore a green sun dress that exposed her shoulders, arms, and legs. Open-toed high-heeled shoes rested on the floor beside the table, left there when she’d removed them earlier so that Cynthia could measure her height and weight. She had her bare feet crossed at the ankles, and she unconsciously tapped out a song beat with the top one, as she waited for the doctor to speak.
Heller coldly eyed the patient, then her chart, then the patient again. Lise watched nervously, until she caught Cynthia’s gaze. The nurse smiled sweetly at her, and Lise relaxed...a little.
“Everything looks to be in order,” Heller said finally, still perusing the chart. “No problems at all. Miss Fine is in excellent health.”
Cynthia nodded knowingly, and Lise sighed audibly in relief.
“That’s great news,” Lise said. “So, I can go?”
“Not yet,” Heller said, still engrossed in the chart.
Cynthia shook her head. Lise frowned, suddenly nervous again.
“Nurse, I want you to start a BTHS on Miss Fine. Standard protocols. Understood?”
“Yes, Doctor.”
Heller turned and walked out of the room. Lise’s jaw dropped.
“A BTHS? What’s that?” she asked. “I thought I was okay. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Cynthia said. “It’s standard procedure to run it on female patients your age.”
Cynthia moved to stand beside Lise. She put a comforting hand on the young woman’s shoulder.
“But what is it? I’ve never heard of BTH--ow!”
Lise hadn’t noticed the miniature hypodermic, until Cynthia removed the tiny needle from her arm. The nurse gently swabbed the entry point with a sterile pad.
“There,” Cynthia said. “That’s the bad part. The rest is easy.”
“Is that the BTHS?”
“No, that’s just a soporific agent that enables the brainwashing through hypnotic suggestion.”
“Sopor-what? Brainwashing through...through...hypnotic-huh?”
A wave of lightheadedness suddenly overcame Lise, followed by a warm, cozy feeling. The surface of the examination table suddenly felt like a fluffy cloud, upon which she floated dreamily.
“Brainwashing through hypnotic suggestion,” Cynthia said. “BTHS. But never you mind. You won’t remember anyway.”
“I won’t...remember anyway.”
“That’s right. You won’t remember anything except that your doctor’s visit went well, and you have a clean bill of health.”
“Doctor’s visit...went well...clean bill...of health.”
“Good girl. Dr. Heller will be back in a few minutes, when the drug has taken full effect. Then she’ll brainwash you into obedience. After that, I’ll help you wake up, we’ll schedule a follow-up appointment for next month, and then you’ll be all set to go home. For now, you can just sleep and let the drug drain away your will and thoughts.”
“Drain away...my will...and thoughts,” Lise said, just before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep.
Cynthia smiled to herself, thinking that Lise would make an exceptionally good subject. She hadn’t fought the drug, she took well to the preliminary suggestions, and she was nothing if not a looker. What else could Heller ask for?
Checking her watch and then the sleeping patient, the nurse went to tell the doctor that all was ready for the BTHS.