There isn’t a formal name for the tablet and smartphone like terminals used within the Facilities. Pandora called hers “the carrot,” but for the most part they are the same hardware as a smartphone, a tablet, or a tablet PC, depending on their size and intended function. “The carrot” was, however, a euphemism based on the “carrot and stick” approach to training. I am glad she preferred the carrot to the stick, though.
I, personally, like the terms “remote”, “tablet”, and “terminal” for the three different devices, and so I’m going to continue using them as I write my story under the orders of miss Sarah, who is hoping that this diary will help me adapt more quickly to my “new place in life,” as Miss Pandora put it.
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Continue reading Chapter 3: Reward and Punishment
It turns out that physical and mental health are very valuable to people like Pandora. Of course, they can’t just send people like me to a normal clinic or a public therapist, so they make sure to have their own private facilities, and personnel, for those purposes. According to Pandora, there’s a guideline of one clinic, one doctor, and two nurses for every twenty residents. So inside of Pandora’s Box, there are ten clinics set up, and five of them are staffed by qualified professionals.
Mental health is a bit easier, as one counselor can serve more patients easily. There are three counselors employed by Pandora’s Box, though the guideline allows one for every fifty residents. I have no idea how we get medication in here, though, without making this operation visible to the public.
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Continue reading Chapter 2: Physical Exams
Pandora’s Box is a public secret. The kind of thing that everybody knows about, but nobody seems to know the truth about. It’s a nightclub, a lovers’ playground, designed to entice young and old alike, and named after the ancient story of Pandora. In the story she closed her box after releasing all of the monsters and fears of the world, with only hope inside. The club advertised itself with the tagline “Hope for a better relationship.”
The truth, however, was a strange and twisted thing. Nobody ever saw the club’s employees during the day, and the club had taken a year, and a dozen private contractors, to build. Far longer than it should have given the interior design. The cost of the club, and the amazingly low rates on rooms, all managed to arouse suspicions. That was why I had come to the club: to answer my own questions.
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Continue reading Chapter 1: Waking Up