'IN THE LIKELY EVENT THAT YOU NEVER WANT TO LEAVE, YOU WILL BE CARED FOR.'

 "What ORG means," Sangstom said, "is that you will have no ill-feelings toward him, or us, or anything at all. Nothing at all will matter to you."

 Though it was pleasantly said, no one in the room missed the ominousness of the director's words, least of all the Doctor who reached into his pocket in a non-threatening manner, fishing around until at last he pulled out a rumpled paper bag and fished out a tiny red candy. "Jelly baby?" he asked, holding the bag out and waving it past first Sarah Jane who sat in a dejected manner on the bunk and then Sangstom who shook his head dismissively. Shrugging, the Doctor plopped the jellybaby in his mouth as with his other hand he stuffed the bag back into his pocket.

 Once the candy had been swallowed, the Doctor said, "Tell me, Sangstom, when you say no feelings, to what extent are you referring?"

 Sangstom smiled thinly. "Why, no feelings whatsoever, none of the darker feelings, at any rate."

 "No feelings, no feelings at all?" the Doctor exclaimed. "Why, without feelings I might as well ask then whatever is the point of living."

 Sangstom sighed, looking first to the clearly infuriated Doctor then to the dejected looking Sarah Jane Smith. "Tell me, Doctor, have you ever found a point of life? Have you ever found life to be without pain?" He paused and surveyed the two prisoners, awaiting their response, but none was forthcoming. "No? Well, here on Alta Regina we have. By taking away the darker human impulses, the darker emotions, humanity can live together in peace and harmony without hate, without anger, without fear, those things that tear humanity down and spur human conflict."

 Sarah looked up, her head rested squarely in her hands. "But how do you do that? I've always thought that feelings were innate; when I was a reporter I dealt with others' feelings on a daily basis and I know how much of what humanity is comes from its capacity for feeling. Feelings are simply there, and I can't understand how you just take them away."

 The light atop the computer terminal began to blink, slowly at first and then more rapidly as the harsh metallic voice of ORG filled the cell. 'NOT ALL EMOTIONS WILL BE REMOVED, ONLY THOSE THAT ARE DETRIMENTAL TO THE SOCIAL ORDER. THOSE EMOTIONS ARE SUPPRESSED AT THE BIOCHEMICAL LEVEL THROUGH MODIFICATIONS TO THE NEURAL STRUCTURE OF THE AMYGDALA STRUCTURES OF THE HUMAN BRAIN.'

 "An invasive procedure, then?" asked the Doctor.

 Sangstom shrugged. "Not entirely. Our procedures work more through suppression of neurotransmitters on an electrochemical level than through rewiring of the neural pathways. In extreme cases, I must concede that physical modifications to the brain must be done, but in the end the results are satisfactory."

 The Doctor looked at Sangstom squarely. "Satisfactory, by whose standards?"

 "Our societal standards, of course." Sangstom paused, gauging the Doctor. "Tell me, what do you know of our society? Clearly, something, otherwise you would not have chosen to come here, but how deep does your knowledge go?"

 The Doctor smiled. "Deep enough, I should think. The rest, I've always taken as it comes."

 Picture the human mind. Somewhere within Carmen's mind, at a level that she was not consciously aware of, she knew what was happening, that her life was in danger, that these hands of Hadyn's, hands that she had known in other contexts so many other times, offered not the promise of a fine massage but the certainty of her life being strangled away.

 Picture the human heart. Under normal circumstances, its beats out a rhythmic pulse, sixty times a minute. Carmen's heart, however, excited by the adrenaline surge her mind had forced, raced ahead, past 100 beats, past 150 beats, onward and upward. Her blood surged through her arteries, the pressure behind each surge of blood rising with each pulse. Faster and faster the blood flowed, faster and faster the heart beat. And against Hadyn, Carmen struggled, strongly at first, spurred by the rising adrenaline and the forceful heartbeat.

 Now, picture the effect Hadyn's hands had upon all these systems. First, Hadyn's fingers squeeze tightly, placing pressure from the index finger on down, each finger applying slightly more pressure than the finger above, shutting off the flow of blood through the carotid arteries to the brain. With the grip secure, the palms press inward, pushing against the trachea, cutting off flow of air through the trachea, trapping the exhausted breath within the lungs and preventing the flow of fresh oxygen to enter within. Next, the fingers tighten even more, not only putting pressure against the carotid arteries but tightening on the capillaries as well, putting pressure on vessels meant to have no pressure and forcing the blood to backlog, but under the rising pressure of her surging heart the capillaries rupture, the blood spilling out into the surrounding tissue, darkening it under Hadyn's grip. With the surface blood spilling and the flow of the carotid blocked, the brain begins to wither, starved of the oxygen that it so amply needs to function properly. Within minutes, the brain begins to falter, its perceptions skewered, as its cells begin to die, starved of oxygen.

 Five minutes after Hadyn entered Carmen's cubicle her struggle ceased. Thirty seconds later, Carmen's body fell limp to the floor, after a loud crack as the neck vertebrae snapped and a large bruise spread across her neck. Within six minutes of entering Carmen's cubicle for the last time, Hadyn Neville confidently strode out into the hall heading for the communal marketplace, the last vestiges of his surging anger sated by the shattered body left behind.

 Sarah shrugged. "I would, if it weren't so obviously true."

 The Doctor feigned a look of deep surprise. "Sarah, I had no idea you felt this way. I shall have to rectify this situation at once. What might you suggest?"

 "Well, I might suggest a vacation. They do have beneficial psychological effects, you know."

 The Doctor shrugged. "Not entirely; it seems that every time I try to enjoy a restful vacation, something dreadful always comes up." He looked back to Sangstom. "Indeed, I imagine that Alta Regina might well be the perfect vacation spot for the both of us, if you might agree, Doctor Sangstom. Secluded, relaxful, a population of docile humans. Why, what trouble could paradise offer?"

 "Thus far, it's offered you," said Sangstom tartly. "Assaulting our guards, who offered only to help you get back to your vacation, then engaging in a trite debate when we could quite easily have had witty banter." He shrugged. "If you can promise to behave, then I might perhaps allow you to return to your delayed vacation. Otherwise, ORG will have to be used, and I would rather that not happen."

 The Doctor looked at ORG and then at Sangstom. "I would ask why that is, but I doubt seriously that you would tell me."

 "You are quite correct, Doctor." Sangstom rubbed his chin. "Now, I would imagine that you are not registered guests." He looked at his two prisoners and then scratched at his chin. "No, I thought not. I wouldn't imagine that you came here through the traditional channels, no?"

 "Well, we're here, aren't we?" said Sarah.

 "Ah, but that's not exactly what I'm after. If I were to consult ORG, it would have no record of your arrival, nor would it have record of your presence until approximately three hours ago, now would it?"

 The Doctor smiled thinly. "You could ask ORG; I'd be quite curious what it said."

 "Doctor, Doctor, we have no need for these games. Your answer is enough to confirm my suspicions. I am a generous man on occasion, and I am willing to forego the standard procedures and allow yourselves to have a pleasant vacation, no questions asked."

 "But will we be allowed to leave?" asked Sarah.

 Sangstom moved to the computer terminal and flicked a switch. The light atop the terminal died, and Sangstom's expression grew more serious. "You are outsiders, and there is no one else to whom I can turn. In exchange for your freedom, you must assist me."

 The Doctor scowled. "Assist you, after imprisoning us? I should think not!"

 "Doctor, you must understand. Alta Regina is a planned community; our social structure is engineered to be as it is, and ORG oversees all of our structure. But, I have reason to believe that something has gone wrong, and I am powerless to act."

 "I don't understand," said Sarah.

 "Each member of the Alta Regina society fulfills a specific societal role, with a purpose determined by ORG based upon each individual's unique talents, producing the goods and services that member is uniquely capable of producing, all oriented towards the society as a whole."

 "And immigrants?" asked the Doctor, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

 "You mean the vacationers, I take it. Yes, well, they too are integrated into the social plan, because once they are here they undergo a strict socialization process, overseen by ORG, to enable them to fulfill a social role that is presently lacking at the time of their arrival."

 "Your immigrants, then, they undergo a testing process before their arrival here? A screening?"

 Sangstom nodded. "With the screening, we are able to determine before arrival who is best suited to our society. Those that do not pass the screening do not receive passes to come here."

 The Doctor looked at Sangstom quizzically. "The society, how does it remain stable?"

 Sangstom shrugged. "I suppose the best analogy would be that of an ant colony. ORG is like the queen ant, the citizens the worker ants. There is no need for drones; ORG has no need to reproduce. The citizens carry out the will of ORG."

 "It seems to me, then, that ORG is the problem with your society, that its ills can be traced back to the artificial intelligence."

 Sangstom shook his head. "No, removing ORG from the equation would be detrimental for several reasons. The most important is that, without ORG, the artificial environment we have established here would collapse almost immediately; this moon is uninhabitable without the technology we have and the constant, instantaneous control that ORG provides. And without ORG the emotional conditioning that the citizenry enjoys would collapse as well."

 Sarah Jane asked, "But how would that be bad? It seems to me that this would restore their humanity, and I can't see how that's bad."

 "ORG provides the meaning and purpose to the citizenry's lives. Without ORG, they would be like aimless drones, unable to do anything for themselves. ORG doesn't force people to do anything now, but they work best with ORG's ministrations; without that, they would do nothing and ultimately die."

 "I must ask," said the Doctor, "if ORG controls everything, how is it that you can speak so freely with us now? I wouldn't imagine that simply turning the terminal off would shut ORG out of the conversation."

 Sangstom shook his head. "ORG and I have a special relationship; I receive a degree of autonomy from that."

 "Oh?" said the Doctor.

 Sangstom tapped his temple. "I have a neural implant, a direct mental connection to ORG, and because of that, I can selectively eliminate ORG from my thoughts. But only so often, and then not completely. You see, on some level, I am ORG."

 "Then why should we trust you?" said the Doctor. "You've given us no reason to do so, you realize."

 "And I have no reason to trust you, but I have no choice." Sangstom paused. "I need an outsider's opinion, someone unlimited by our social constraints, and your ease of escape earlier today shows that you have the qualities I require. Will you help me, Doctor? A society hangs in the balance."

 "I don't know, Sangstom. I'm tempted to take my chances with ORG and this cell; I think I might end up with a better deal."

 "Your freedom versus a life not of your choosing. The choice seems obvious to me."

 The Doctor turned to Sarah. "I leave the decision to you, Sarah."

 Sarah looked at Sangstom. "One question, then."

 "Alright."

 "What exactly is the problem you need help with?"

 From the shadows of the kitchen Hadyn emerged. "You weren't here last night," he said.

 "I had duties," she said. "My husband. He had a rough night and needed comforting." She walked over to the couch, sat down and then removed her shoes, tossing them across the carpet.

 Hadyn came into the living room and stood before her. "You have other duties. Duties to me."

 She shook her head. "He doesn't know about you, he can't know about you."

 She paused. "He doesn't know about here."

 "Are you sure?"

 "ORG would never allow it, would never allow us."

 "ORG? ORG is nothing but an obstacle to be overcome. We have overcome ORG."

 Amanda leaned back on the couch, resting her head on the arm and looking up at Hadyn. "Is that was this is about? ORG? There's more to life than Alta Regina. So much more," she said as she looked at Hadyn with a hunger in her eyes.

 Hadyn sat quickly on the edge of the sofa, turned slightly leaning over Amanda, his left arm gently stroking her hair, his right arm resting lightly on the inside of her thigh. "Yes, perhaps you are right," he said as he leaned down and touched his lips softly to hers. As Amanda's arms stretched out to envelop Hadyn, his right hand moved upward, up past Amanda's waist, reaching back behind her.

 Amanda pushed herself into the passion of the embrace, never noticing the motions of Hadyn's hands, as they moved further and further towards her neck, never noticing the heat that filled Hadyn's still open eyes, the heat of an unquenchable anger that burrowed deep into his soul.

 As Amanda broke the embrace and leaned back on the couch, she looked up too late, too see the hands work their way around her neck, too late to see the thin, gleeful smile that spread across Hadyn's lips as he prepared to take another life, the life of his lover, Amanda Sangstrom.