The Skin Thief

Chapter 72

The room beyond is blindingly sterile, making my eyes almost burn from how searing the bright lights are. I blink rapidly, trying to focus.

"It's good to see you made it, Ivy," the man says. "We thought for a moment you had pulled out."

I let out a charming laugh and take a seat on the cold metal chair that sits in front of their metal table. Marcus takes a seat between them on the other side. Shivers ripple down my spine and I look around. With the exception of the metal table and chairs, along with some briefcases by my interviewer's feet, there is nothing else in here. There are only blinding white walls and floors. It feels more like an interrogation room than an interview office.

"I had some problems with the showers," I reply to the man.

"More problems?" the woman asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing I couldn't overcome," I reply simply, putting on a wide smile. "Though an email may need to be sent to maintenance."

Marcus lets out a low chuckle and the woman bites back a smirk.

"I suppose it's best we don't ask," the man says.

"Yes," I reply and shift uncomfortably in the hard chair.

All jokes over, their faces turn serious. I gulp, swallowing a lump in my throat as I remember the girl who left before me. What do they do to her?

Marcus leans forward, resting his arms on the table, looking into my eyes.

"You understand, Miss Astor, that for a job like this, you must have mental resilience?" he asks. "Working in my department means that you won't only be working on highly confidential material, but highly disturbing material also. The game of spies and espionage is gruesome and dangerous. You will become a target to our enemies, and you will see first-hand the horror that they cause. From assassinations to terrorism to seeing the aftereffects of capture of our own and what is done to them in enemy hands – you will see horrors you never could have imagined first-hand. It will change you forever. Can you live with that? Can you see and do what we do and still function effectively and safely?"

I almost smile to myself. If he knew what my life was like, both in the academy and worse, back with my mother, he would realise he doesn't need to ask that question of me.

"I am strong enough," I simply reply.

"We hope so," the woman says. "We need people who aren't going to break at the first sign of difficulty."

I nod my head; not sure I like where this is going.

The woman reaches down and pulls out a small, white bag. She reaches into it and my eyes widen at the sight of a syringe, wrapped in protective packaging. Slowly, she opens the wrapper. I tense, my muscles stiffening in apprehension.

I look at Marcus, but his expression gives nothing away.

"This is a very special tool of ours," the woman says, and I don't miss the slight smile on her face as she puts on white latex gloves, the sound of them snapping on her skin almost making me jump.

The man leans down to the side and pulls out a briefcase. He clicks it open, revealing large goggle-type things. I frown and tilt my head in confusion.

"This is the latest development in virtual reality technology," he tells me. My eyes narrow curiously and I lean back in my chair.

"Through this device, we will show you first-person point-of-view scenarios of very much real-life situations you may one day face," he explains.

"With the addition of this drug, the experiences being shown to you through the virtual reality glasses will come to feel very real," the woman explains.