THE FLOAT

By Josef  Manz

 
Sandra Brown was nervous.  Though flotation tanks were common place and had replaced over fifty percent of psychiatry, she had never been in one.  Sandra had phobias.  She was afraid of drowning and had never been in a swimming pool; the hot tub being the largest water containment device she would allow herself to get into.  She was also afraid of closed places.  Especially dark, closed places where the blackness enveloped and attempted to devour her.  Flotation tanks were enclosed, dark, and contained water.   That is why Sandra Brown was nervous as she arrived and sat on a couch in the reception room at, The Float, a sort of modern day spa for the mind.

The room, spacious with a minimalist edge to it provided a comforting environment.  Only a couple of couches, a chair and two coffee tables represented furniture.  Three walls were completely bare. A ten-foot video image, projected on a video screen on the wall, showing schools of fish in some clear blue marine environment covered the fourth wall   Only it did not look like a video image; the crisp resolution and video screen border made one believe there was a huge aquarium full of marine life behind that wall.  The scenes induced a very relaxing mood.

"Mrs. Sandra Brown?" The receptionist, a pretty brunette barely in her twenties asked with a comforting smile from behind her huge desk.

"Yes."  Sandra smiled back.

"Go right in. We've been expecting you."

Sandra walked into an adjoining room where a blonde, with an equally comforting smile, greeted her.  Both of them hardly comforted her.

"There's a dressing room through that door,"  she said pointing to her left.  "You'll find towels in there.  It's your choice whether to float nude or in a bathing suit.  Absolute privacy is guaranteed.  Go in and change then I'll show you to your tank."

"Thank you,"  Sandra said frowning a bit.  She did not like the term, tank.  She had brought a one-piece swimsuit.  She could not imagine herself immersed, totally nude, in some dark tank in a strange place.  Nudity is for the privacy of one's own bedroom or bathroom.

Still nervous, despite the comforting smiles, she hastily undressed and changed into the swimsuit.  She just wanted to get it over with.  Her husband, Jack, had recommended it for her and even made the appointment and driven her there.  He insisted it would calm her for she had been uptight lately.

The truth is that she had been uptight for the past three years.  They had been married seven years but had no children.   They initially agreed on not having children because neither was that interested in raising any.  Three years ago, he changed his mind.  She still did not want to do it.  Sandra was not exactly cut out for motherhood.  A vain woman, Sandra  thrived on looking her best every minute of her life;  a child would definitely destroy that beautiful body of hers.  Not to mention carrying around all that weight, bloating and labor.  She suggested adoption but he would not go for it.  She knew he was not willing to divorce her because  he would lose a lot.  So he got uptight and she got even more uptight.  When she got uptight, she spent a lot.  Sandra was the epitome of a material girl: There is no limit to spending.  Great when one's spending another's money.  Even better when one does not give a damn about the other.

She stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror.  She had a pretty good body.  Slender with a stomach as flat as an ironing board - and just as hard.  She worked out daily while watching soap operas.  Though only in her late twenties with a beautiful face, she already had a facelift.  Now she had scheduled for a complete facial; the bags under the eyes, the crow's feet, the chin.  She needed none of it but being vain, Sandra would  get it.

Jack did not care whether she got it or not.  He was fed up with her and was already seeing a much younger lady.  Facial or no facial, Sandra was on the way out.  The only thing that bothered him was the divorce settlement.  He was not prepared to lose half the fortune he had worked hard for all his life to a woman he did not love anymore.

Sandra wrapped up in a large towel and walked out of the dressing room.  The blonde was waiting outside.  She handed her two plastic cups, one containing a pill, the other water.

"This is Zadel, developed in the nineties by Dr. Mark Zadel," she said.  "It’s a mind enhancer originally intended to stimulate brain activity in coma patients. It did work on some patients eventually awakening them from their comas.  The best thing about Zadel  is that it  is only mildly addictive with hardly any side effects.  Some people  float just so they can get high.  With Zadel, they can concentrate on a pleasant instance in their lives and relieve it over and over.  They can also control some aspects of their past lives to their liking.  Floating with Zadel is the ultimate trip."

"I’m not a junkie," she told the blonde, downing the pill.. "I just want to take things off my mind."

"Walk this way, ma'am.  Let me give you a little information about  Floating," the blonde said waving a hand.  " John C. Lilly, a professor at Harvard first developed the flotation tank, in the fifties.  Lilly intended for it to be used in the study of mental patients.  In the tank, patients would slightly hallucinate seeing images from their past lives or things they would like to do.  Studying these experiences helped Lilly and other scientists learn more about the mental state of these patients."   She walked slowly down the hall, Sandra following closely deeply enthralled in the tale.

"In the sixties, the colorful decade, drugs were introduced to renegade floaters who used flotation tanks for pleasure rather than science," the blonde smiled.  "The tanks would greatly enhance a hallucination much so that in some instances, it took weeks for an individual to return to a normal state.  Some, after these intense trips, believed they had met God and spoken to Him.  Others believed they were God.

"In the late seventies, the flotation tank was brought to the general public through commercial use.  Flotation tanks, or think tanks as they were sometimes referred to, became common up to the late eighties then interest fizzled.  They sparked interest again in the late nineties and became more popular than ever at the turn of the century.  More and more people who are stressed by demanding careers, population boom, escalating violence, depleting ozone layer and whatever else might be on their minds flock to flotation tanks instead of the psychiatrist's couch.  A float is a lot cheaper than talking to a shrink - and a lot more effective.  Floaters, when administered with, Zadel, can re-live their entire lives and figure out what went wrong and how to correct it  - all in a two-hour float.  Why talk to someone when you can talk to yourself?" the blonde said, gesturing to the left.

They walked into a small room with soft, red lights.  In the middle of the room was a shallow tank about twelve feet long by five feet wide.  In the tank was a solution of water and Epsom salt.  The liquid level was about ten inches deep.  There were two pipes at the foot of the tank; one to pump in the warm salt-water solution and one to pump it out at the end of the float.  Sandra was frightened of that pool of water.

"Have you ever floated before?" The blonde asked.

"No." Sandra answered nervously.

"It's okay."  She assured her.  "All you have to do is immerse yourself in the water and you'll float without effort.  You'll be here for an hour.  Try to relax and let your mind wander."  She left.

After Sandra immersed herself in the water, and actually floated buoyantly like a balloon, the lights were turned off leaving her in pitch darkness.  Soft music filtered through the air.  She closed her eyes and sighed comfortably.

                                                xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sandra was uncomfortable at first.  The salt water seemed to burn her skin.  Even though she was floating, she was afraid she might sink and drown in this dark grave-like room alone.  She lay there for what seemed a long time before she relaxed.  Suddenly images began to appear before her.  There she was at a ball with Jack the year before they got married.  She had drank some champagne and was feeling ticklish.  Only in her float, she felt horny.  Jack was laughing and feeling her up.   A hand went into her blouse and unclasped the bra.  She did not resist him.  Another hand went up her dress and slipped beneath her panties.  She laughed heartily.  She was enjoying it immensely.  Her hand unzipped his pants and groped inside.  All the while she felt as though two people, one participating and one observing, were rolled into her one being.  Both of them were experiencing this wonderful, if forbidden, lust encounter.
 
                                               



 
Charles Teznor, a precocious and inventive kid was a genius at age five with an IQ of a hundred and sixty.  He could read electronic schematics and repair radios and televisions at age seven.   An evil and cruel streak turned him into an anti-social brood.  He really despised his parents who were determined to make as much money as they could by selling his services and inventions to corporations with the highest bidder.  By age ten, he had invented everything from stain removers to computer chips. His parents quit their jobs and concentrated on handling his affairs.  At eleven he blew up his parents house -- with them in it -- just because he hated them.

The ATF, FBI and CIA got interested in Charles after he destroyed his home.  The explosives were an ingenious masterwork that had completely obliterated the entire building and its contents.  The Teznors were identified only through their scattered dental remains.  The CIA eventually took him into their fold at the headquarters in Langley, Virginia where they kept a close watch over him while nurturing his inventive ways.

The government  did not completely own Charles.  He still contracted with private entrepreneurs as long as he did not produce weapons.  He had the freedom to create whatever he desired as long as he gave the government what they wanted.  They provided him with his own quarters complete with whatever equipment he needed.

One of the products he invented was an enzyme-based solution he had accidentally discovered while working on a bloodstain-remover for a cleansing company.  By combining four proteins, he came up with a compound that when combined with salt water literally ate human tissue.  Not just skin and flesh but also bones, nails and hair.  The entire process could take less than an hour to turn a hundred and eighty pound adult male into an aqua solution.  Charles named it, Pro-4.

Pro-4 provided a whole new way of assassination.  One could penetrate an enemy compound, place a small amount of the enzyme into a bathtub and that was it.  Since Pro-4 worked best with blood, it slowly drained the victim's blood causing them to pass out before eating away their whole being.  It was silent, deadly and undetectable.  The CIA was very excited at the prospect.  This was a revolutionary weapon that was the best invention since biological warfare.  Pro-4 was much better than the limited release of a virus upon a victim. Unlike viruses, it was predictable and completely controllable.

                                                


Sandra was elated, feeling Jack's member and being felt up in front of high society partiers.  Suddenly everything disappeared.  Now she was a little girl back home.  Her father was beating up her mother.  He had always been an abusive man and she had hated him to his death.  Here he was slapping her mother and hitting her with a clenched fist.  She was crying for help but Sandra could not help her.  One hard swing and her mother went down in a faint.  Sandra cried out in fear.  She wanted to run away but her father grabbed her dress.  The dress ripped and she almost escaped but he grabbed her foot.  He was going to kill her.  She just knew he was going to kill her.

Sandra woke up in the dark tank.   Terrified from that nightmare about her father, this dark, gloomy room did not help.  She tried to scream but there was no sound.  She felt heavy like the salt water had turned to glue.  She tried to open her eyes but the eyelids felt heavy as though a spider had woven a web over them.  Her arms and legs  stuck in the gluey solution.  Her lips seemed stuck together.

She was dying!  She knew she was dying.  She was going to drown right here in this dark, gluey tomb.  She seemed to sink slowly into the solution.  She sank so slowly that she could feel it millimeter by millimeter.  Somebody please help, her mind screamed.

                                              


Some entrepreneuring agent leaked Pro-4 to select members of the general public. Some of these members dealt with organized crime.  Others were assassins who found this a perfect killing weapon that left no trace behind.

Jack Brown happened upon one of these members and jokingly mentioned that he wished he could get rid of his wife when he was later approached by a man who told him he could make Jack's wife disappear without a trace.  For the right fee, of course.  It did not take long before the entire process was set up with Sandra's appointment to The Float.
 
                                               


Sandra sank deeper into the tank.  She felt weak.  She tried to breathe deeper so she would not pass out but she did not have the strength.  She knew she would drown.  She knew it.  She cursed Jack for talking her into this.  The dark enveloped her.  It pressed against her face prohibiting her to breathe.  She could feel her flesh spreading all over the tank.  She felt as though she were melting.  She was so weak breathing was difficult labor.  Slowly, she let herself go, sinking into darkness.

Suddenly she was back in the ballroom with Jack still feeling her up.  She clung onto him and covered his mouth with hers in a deep kiss.  The on-looking high society partiers only enhanced her thrill.  She pulled down his pants as he ripped her panties off.  They did it right there on the ballroom floor humping away like rabbits.  It was total bliss.

An hour later, the salt solution that was once Sandra Brown was drained into the sewer system.  Her swimsuit, left intact, was incinerated along with the rest of her belongings.  Charles Teznor who blew up  his parents' house with them in it cause he hated them would have been proud.  He was proud.

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