another deep breath and pushed the door open.
He stood in the doorway, silently gawking at the scene before him. All night he wondered what he would be walking into and his imagination had failed in comparison to the reality of his new work environment.
The pods, hundreds of them, stuck out of a massive cylinder shaped machine in the middle of the large room reaching at least thirty feet to the ceiling. The air was hot, damp, and had a slightly sour smell to it. Like bad milk mixed with some sort of cleaning solution.
Hank got closer to the pods for a better look. They reminded him of large test tubes. Each one contained a man or woman floating in green liquid. He stood in front of a pod with a woman in it and gently placed his hand on the clear plastic. It was cool to the touch and vibrated slightly.
The woman inside was completely nude and bald. A hose from the base of the pod connected to a device covering her mouth and nose. Various other wires, tubes, diodes, catheters, and ports were connected to her through various body parts and orifices. The spider web of cables and tubing lead into the base of the machine by her feet.
“Hey, who are you?” Hank jumped at the loud voice behind him and spun around. A large scowling man approached him from the far side of the room. He had bright white hair and dark wrinkled skin. Like everybody else besides the soldiers, he was older than Hank.
“Are you Seamus?” Hank asked.
The man frowned. He had a good six or eight inches on Hank. “I know who I am, who the hell is you?” He rubbed his chin with one of his massive hands. Hands that looked like they’d seen a lifetime of hard work.
“I’m Hank. I guess I’m supposed to start working here today?”
“Oh, another new guy, huh? Nobody told me you was starting today.” He turned around and started walking away. “Well, come on then. Let’s go someplace a little quieter.”
Hank followed him into a small room with a large window that faced the boiler. Seamus sat in one of the two chairs and pushed the other toward Hank with his foot. He pulled out a cigarette pack and lit one. “So where they find you at?”
Hank wasn’t sure what he meant. “Uh, Lieutenant Hendricks said to…”
“Look, man. Let me be straight with you.” He took a deep drag and exhaled the bitter synth-smoke in Hank’s direction. “You’re the third guy I’ve had to train this month and it’s getting old. Shit, I’m getting old. I’m gonna hope you got a brain in your head and the balls to do the job. In the meantime, my expectations ain’t shit. I ain’t gonna waste my time only to have you wrap a belt around your neck and play chandelier like the last sorry motherfucker they sent in here.”
Hank glanced out the window at the pods and back to Seamus. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll be able to handle whatever you need me to do.”
Seamus made a face and turned to the bank of monitors and control panels in front of him. “Don’t worry, he says,” Seamus muttered. “Shee-it.”
Hank sat down and looked at the monitors. Hundreds of icons which he assumed represented the pods, lined the screen. Each had a block of numbers and graphs. Three red icons stood out from the others.
“These here,” Seamus tapped the red ones, “are starting to fail. Good day for you to start. We’ll be swapping them out for fresh ones.” Seamus rose and opened a cabinet on the wall. He took out a jumpsuit and handed it to Hank before putting on his own. Thick rubber gloves and safety goggles completed the outfit.
“We’re responsible for two hundred pods in this room,” Seamus said. He opened the door and headed back into the main boiler room. “Besides us, they got four other boilers in this section so that makes a thousand bodies in this plant. On average two go bad each day and need to be replaced. Thirty retirees are kept on hand in the warehouse at all times.”
“The warehouse?” Hank asked.
“Yeah, just a staging area to
He stood in the doorway, silently gawking at the scene before him. All night he wondered what he would be walking into and his imagination had failed in comparison to the reality of his new work environment.
The pods, hundreds of them, stuck out of a massive cylinder shaped machine in the middle of the large room reaching at least thirty feet to the ceiling. The air was hot, damp, and had a slightly sour smell to it. Like bad milk mixed with some sort of cleaning solution.
Hank got closer to the pods for a better look. They reminded him of large test tubes. Each one contained a man or woman floating in green liquid. He stood in front of a pod with a woman in it and gently placed his hand on the clear plastic. It was cool to the touch and vibrated slightly.
The woman inside was completely nude and bald. A hose from the base of the pod connected to a device covering her mouth and nose. Various other wires, tubes, diodes, catheters, and ports were connected to her through various body parts and orifices. The spider web of cables and tubing lead into the base of the machine by her feet.
“Hey, who are you?” Hank jumped at the loud voice behind him and spun around. A large scowling man approached him from the far side of the room. He had bright white hair and dark wrinkled skin. Like everybody else besides the soldiers, he was older than Hank.
“Are you Seamus?” Hank asked.
The man frowned. He had a good six or eight inches on Hank. “I know who I am, who the hell is you?” He rubbed his chin with one of his massive hands. Hands that looked like they’d seen a lifetime of hard work.
“I’m Hank. I guess I’m supposed to start working here today?”
“Oh, another new guy, huh? Nobody told me you was starting today.” He turned around and started walking away. “Well, come on then. Let’s go someplace a little quieter.”
Hank followed him into a small room with a large window that faced the boiler. Seamus sat in one of the two chairs and pushed the other toward Hank with his foot. He pulled out a cigarette pack and lit one. “So where they find you at?”
Hank wasn’t sure what he meant. “Uh, Lieutenant Hendricks said to…”
“Look, man. Let me be straight with you.” He took a deep drag and exhaled the bitter synth-smoke in Hank’s direction. “You’re the third guy I’ve had to train this month and it’s getting old. Shit, I’m getting old. I’m gonna hope you got a brain in your head and the balls to do the job. In the meantime, my expectations ain’t shit. I ain’t gonna waste my time only to have you wrap a belt around your neck and play chandelier like the last sorry motherfucker they sent in here.”
Hank glanced out the window at the pods and back to Seamus. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll be able to handle whatever you need me to do.”
Seamus made a face and turned to the bank of monitors and control panels in front of him. “Don’t worry, he says,” Seamus muttered. “Shee-it.”
Hank sat down and looked at the monitors. Hundreds of icons which he assumed represented the pods, lined the screen. Each had a block of numbers and graphs. Three red icons stood out from the others.
“These here,” Seamus tapped the red ones, “are starting to fail. Good day for you to start. We’ll be swapping them out for fresh ones.” Seamus rose and opened a cabinet on the wall. He took out a jumpsuit and handed it to Hank before putting on his own. Thick rubber gloves and safety goggles completed the outfit.
“We’re responsible for two hundred pods in this room,” Seamus said. He opened the door and headed back into the main boiler room. “Besides us, they got four other boilers in this section so that makes a thousand bodies in this plant. On average two go bad each day and need to be replaced. Thirty retirees are kept on hand in the warehouse at all times.”
“The warehouse?” Hank asked.
“Yeah, just a staging area to
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