Spy in the Head

“Please, ma'am. It's time.”

The three of them smiled warmly. At first glance, they appeared to be good men. However, their arrival was not for something good for me. My bitter experiences from childhood to this day have enabled me to recognize impending danger, even when it is wrapped in a perfect smile and friendliness.

"There's no need to worry, Mom. You'll come home safe."

Congratulations. What does the word 'congratulations' actually mean? I have never been safe since I was a child until my current age of forty. I have lived for years as a group of people who have been completely exploited by those who call themselves the state.

They took me to a house. The house appeared ancient, resembling a structure from the Dutch colonial era. It had large doors and windows, with somewhat dull white walls.

I lived for years as a group of people who were being exploited by those who call themselves the state.

"We will only implement a simple procedure. A small needle will be injected behind your ear, Ma'am. Local anesthesia will be used, so you will not feel anything. After half an hour, you will wake up with a refreshed mind, as if nothing has happened. You will also be much healthier, experiencing fewer headaches than before. One could say this is cutting-edge medical technology, aimed at making you a healthier and better person."

“Can I refuse this procedure?”

“I’m afraid not, ma’am. This is already a state procedure. For the good of the country.”

I nodded briefly. I already knew what that meant.

I closed my eyes as I lay my body on the white bed that felt extremely cold. The entire room is white, as if its owner is so afraid of other colors.

I felt a movement in my left ear. The words of the person in black were true. I did not feel any pain at all. I could only sense something, whatever it was, being inserted into my head. I felt a sensation of liquid flowing through the veins in my head. However, suddenly the liquid stopped in the middle.

I felt like my consciousness was only half gone, but I heard someone say.

“Stop. This woman is dangerous.” A tall man in white was heard panicking at the end of the bed.

"Dangerous how?"

“This white-haired woman has the ability to counterattack with millions of centipedes.”

“Centipede…” The man shuddered in horror.

“Only centipedes can defeat us. Not even pythons.”

"The woman appeared to be an ordinary middle-aged woman. Very frail. Her reaction when the liquid was administered was the same as that of others."

“What kind of nonsense is that? How could any human being do that?”

"This woman is the last descendant of a rare tribe. We must not do anything to her."

The man in black shook his head in disbelief.

“Stop immediately, before the centipede eats you first.”

The man in the white shirt merely smiled faintly. He performed several procedures on me, injecting something into my arm, and I felt extremely tired and drowsy. I do not remember how long I slept. I woke up when the sun's heat hit my cheek. The wall clock indicated it was nine in the morning. This meant I had slept all night in this room, not just half an hour as promised by the man in the black shirt.

A young woman in neat uniform was waiting for me in the corner of the room.

“Are you awake?” the woman asked softly. A question that didn’t need to be asked. The woman had already seen my eyes open.

“Please take a shower and change your clothes, ma’am. We have prepared clothes in the bathroom. We will take you home.”

"To my rented house?"

“No, ma’am. The state has gifted you a house. I will take you directly to the location.”

I know that the big question mark in my mind will not be answered by these people. The orderliness and politeness they display on the other side is an unimaginable horror. No one is allowed to refuse or hold a different opinion.

I followed the woman's request without asking too many questions. My sleep last night felt deep yet filled with strange dreams. I saw people taking turns exiting from a white room, and they looked peculiar. The light in their eyes resembled that of living beings, but their pupils emitted a strange glow. They appeared to be chatting and joking like normal people, yet the nostrils exhaled an odd aroma. An aroma reminiscent of three men dressed in black. I just realized that the reflection of light from those people's eyes was strikingly similar. What could be causing that?

I can no longer think further because the neatly uniformed young woman is already waiting for me with her shining eyes. Oh, the light is exactly the same. The warmth and kindness, yet the horror I feel every time I look at her. That liquid, have all these people received an injection of that liquid and can no longer recognize their new selves?

“Ma’am, let’s go, it’s time,” the woman said softly. Identical.

Throughout the journey in the seemingly old sedan, I could only rest my head against the window. The voice on the radio sounded against my will. It was the voice of a friend, with whom I once helped form a kind of organization; now he has become the spokesperson for the state. He would represent the state to explain matters regarding tax increases, contributions, or anything else that increasingly ensnares my kind. The last descendant of a rare tribe? What kind of absurdity is that? Now I am alone, a person who can know everything clearly, while the minds of the people have been standardized according to the desires of the state. It is uncertain who between me or my old friend is 'saved' in this regard. What is clear is that my friend has already amassed abundant wealth.

The car had been driving for three hours, but there were no signs that I would arrive at the intended home. It felt strange. Suddenly, I was transported to a house, the location of which I did not even know.

“Which city will my house be in?” I asked the young woman driving.

"You'll know when we get there," she replied with a smile.

“What about the clothes in the rented house? I don’t have any replacement clothes.”

"Don't worry, Ma'am. We have provided clothes that fit you perfectly. Please try them on. They will surely suit you, as I personally bought them, in accordance with your old clothes at the rental."

Here I increasingly feel that everything is becoming more absurd. In fact, my clothes were chosen by that young woman. I am not a trendy woman with a taste for cool clothes. My wardrobe consists mostly of jeans, t-shirts, and shirts. Yes, but how strange it is if my clothes are chosen by someone else.

I was too tired to ask when I would arrive at that promised home. I fell asleep in the midst of the smooth toll road we were traversing. I could not remember how long we had been driving. I glanced at my watch, it was three in the morning. The young woman suddenly slowed down and turned onto a small road. Residential houses appeared to be sparse in this area. There were more rice fields or farms. Suddenly, the woman stopped in front of a small house, but with a fairly large yard.

“This is my house?” I said confused.

"That's right, ma'am. It's not as quiet here as you think. As soon as dawn comes, there will be lots of people passing by."

"Then what can I do here? I used to work at a newspaper editing grammar. What can I do in this remote town?"

"Don't worry, Ma'am, the state will pay you every month. It is more than enough to live in this village. You can relax while enjoying life."

I smiled wryly. “How can you imagine your life without a job? It would be the same as dying.”

"You are free to do whatever you want, as long as you do not interfere with state affairs. You may garden, sell flowers, sell crafts, basic necessities, books, or anything else. We can provide the capital. We only ask that you do not engage in any misconduct. Do not make strange comments. Do not incite the villagers."

Those sentences left me astonished. What kind of life is provided to me by this country? Is this what they call 'safe,' as stated by the man in the black shirt? Safe yet not alive. I sighed in despair.

Note: The first three sentences in this short story are modified from the short story “Rahim” by Cok Sawitri.

Ni Komang Ariani, was born in Bali, 1978. In 2003-2006 she worked as a radio announcer and journalist at Global FM Bali and KBR 68H Jakarta. In 2008 she became the First Winner of the Femina Serial Writing Competition through her novelette, "Nyanyi Sunyi Celah Tebing". Three times entered the Kompas Selected Short Stories. Twice entered the Top 10 Khatulistiwa Literary Award and in 2011 was invited as a speaker at the Ubud Writers and Readers Festival. In 2017 she was selected as a residency participant for the ASEAN-Japan Literary Festival and in August 2018 was selected as one of the writers who underwent a month-long residency program in Thailand organized by the National Book Committee.

Hadi Soesanto, born in Jember, May 1968. Bachelor of Painting Program, Indonesian Institute of the Arts, Yogyakarta. Has exhibited in Kashmir, Moldova, Turkey, Nepal, Korea, Japan, Vietnam, Malaysia, Singapore, Thailand, Taiwan, China, Philippines, and Canada.