A couple suits came in and escorted me down the long hall of the processing center to a garage. They put me in the back seat of an unmarked SUV then hopped into the driver and passenger seats. A panel of reinforced fiberglass separated us. It had a single hole near the base to speak through. I put my mouth to it.

“So, where are we going now?”

No response. They pulled out of the garage and into morning city traffic. It was cloudy, but Portland looked extra gloomy behind tinted windows.

“I’m starving. Anyone want to grab a breakfast sandwich along the way? I think there’s a Micky-D’s over there. Anyone? No?”

No response.

“Not hungry, huh? That’s cool. Hey, either of you know Officer Jane Dall by chance? She works in this precinct. She’s my sister.”

The driver looked at me in the rear view mirror but didn’t respond.

“Haven’t talked to her in forever,” I said, stretching with a yawn. “Alright. Sorry, sorry, I’ll shut up. I get it.”

We drove north for about an hour until we came to what looked like a large industrial warehouse in the middle of nowhere. It was drizzling as they escorted me inside through a steel door. The long hallway was taupe colored, illuminated by humming fluorescents.

“Well, this is a bit ominous, don’t you think?” I said as they prodded me along.

Eventually the hallway opened up into a vast open room. In the center was a cubicle of blue medical curtains hanging from metal polls. Our footsteps echoed in the expansive space as we headed towards it.

One of the curtains slid open and a woman in a white medical coat and matching skirt stepped out. She wore black high heels, heavy red lipstick, and had her hair pulled back into a tight bun.

“Oh,” I said, blinking. “That’s unexpected.”

One of the suits stepped forward and handed a small device to the woman. She swiped it over a tablet, tapped the screen a few times, and handed the device back. I could see files opening up on her screen.

“Jack Dall?” she said, looking up at me.

I gave her a quick wave and a smile. “Present.”

She raised an eyebrow, turned around, and headed back into the cubicle. The three of us followed.

In the center of the makeshift room was a reclined medical cot. Surrounding the cot were large machines connected together by webs of electrical cords and stations filled with monitors. A low hum emitted from everything. A pair of terrifying robotic arms protruded from the largest of these machines from behind the cot. They hovered over the bed like monstrous claws frozen in place.

I stopped in my tracks, suddenly nauseous at the sight of the finger-like scalpels and suction instruments at the end of the arms. Both the suits bumped into my back and I stumbled forward.

“So, I’m guessing you want me on that thing?” I said, addressing the woman. I pointed at the bed.

The woman was speaking with one of her counterparts. She turned to me. “You pick up on things quickly, don’t you, Jack?”

“It’s a talent you can’t teach,” I said.

“First, I’ll need you to strip out of that jumpsuit.”

“You sure you don’t want me to take you to dinner first?”

She rolled her eyes and pointed to a metal locker in the corner. “Inside you’ll find a suit tailored to your size. Put it on while we finish preparations.”

“And don’t think about running,” said one of the suits. “I can taser you from twenty feet away. I wouldn’t even have to chase you.”

I gave the guy a wink and a point. “You got it, slick. No running.”

I walked over and opened the locker. There were three white latex jumpsuits hanging there. Each had a paper tag on the hanger. The first said Smithison, the next Gomez, and the last Dall. I pulled mine off the hanger and examined it. It looked like an overly designed wetsuit. I stretched it a bit, testing the elasticity.

“Strechy,” I said, dropping it on the floor. I pulled off my current jumpsuit then picked the latex back up.

“Your underwear, too,” said the woman.

I sighed, then compiled. “Nobody look,” I said, eyeing the two suits. One of them fingered the taser on his belt.

Getting the suit on was awkward and undignified. I had to get on the ground and pull it up over my legs then hop a few times to get my arms in. It rode up in my crotch and held me skintight.

“How do I look?” I said, finally, my arms open wide.

“Good enough,” said the woman, motioning to the bed.

I let out a long breath. I really didn’t want to lay down on that thing. I took a step and the two arms above the bed came to life. They spun and rotated, jolting back and forth as if testing out their gears.

“Mr. Dall,” said the woman. “If you’d please?”

I cleared my throat, nodded my head, and climbed in. I let out another long breath as the two men in white medical coats strapped my arms and legs onto the bed.

“Is that really necessary? I promise I’ll hold still.”

One of the men gave me a smile but said nothing. He was younger than me, maybe twenty-five, twenty-six.

The giant mechanical arm on my left lowered itself so it was level with my line of sight. I jumped, involuntarily pulling against my restraints. The instruments protruding from the tip of the arm cycled through a number of devices before landing on something with a needle on the end of it. A ring of green light lit up around the horrifying device.

“Mr. Dall," said the woman. "Before we put you under, I’m required by the state of Oregon to inform you that you’ll be receiving a medical procedure to prepare your body for a semi-hibernative state. This procedure includes the insertion of five devices: three in your cranium and two in your abdomen. You’ll also be connected to a smart catheter system and a robust nerve stimulator. After the procedure, your body will be transported to an undisclosed location where your mind will be uploaded into a simulation for the duration of your sentence. While you do not have to consent to this, I do have to receive an audible yes from you, signifying that you understand what is about to happen.”

I felt like I was going to be sick, my nerves hot on the edge.

“Do I get a kiss for good luck?”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” said the woman.

She tapped her tablet, I felt a sharp pinch, and I was gone.