"Yes, we're technically dead. Yes, the [de-regger corp] has used a new process to animate our corpses to squeeze a few more years of work out of us before we decay beyond economic feasibility of repair. Still, at least we get to see our families again." -- Tor Libram
CRC Agent Tiel entered the mine and was greeted by a monster from so many games. Half their body was replaced with mechanical parts. There was something amiss with the hue of their skin. As if...
As if they were a dead being walking.
It wasn't as if they were rotting, per se. There was something keeping the flesh... nominally alive. There was a sheen, there. Not sweat. It took Tiel a moment to realise... these humans had no hair on their remaining skin.
No eyebrows. No eyelashes. No head hair. Not even the fine, near-invisible down that humans had over the rest of their skin.
Otherwise, Tiel's welcome party were very friendly.
"Welcome to the grinder. Don't mind the aesthetics. Die enough times and you'll be one of us."
"Goople gobble," said a second technozombie. "I'm Joe, I've died seven times. That's Ben, he's up to ten."
"Up to ten, don't wanna do it again," recited Ben. "We've got to take you through orientation." His skeleton of a metal arm directed Joe to turn around, displaying a battered cannister of a backpack.
Joe said, "This is a bodybag. You get a new one, you keep it on you at all times," said Joe. "You get in an accident, it wraps you up nice and neat so we can dig you out. Keep it charged, keep it oiled, and you live another day. Don't? And you go home in a really flat box."
"Or a small one," said Ben. "The charger's in your sleep notch, we'll help you get an app to make sure the plug gets in the port. It's illegal and corporate will dock you for having it, but... it's better than worrying if your bodybag's charged."
Tiel recognised the tech. An auto-deploying stasis tube. Made to detect life-unfriendly situations in a split second, and then to deploy around the user. They weren't made to be worn permanently. They should be charged over an entire 24-hours, the wearer swapping between units at the start of the working day.
"So you lose your hair when you die?" said Tiel."
"And a few organs or limbs. Yeah. Something in the process of bringing you back just... kills every hair you have left." Joe shrugged. "Better than rotting. At least we see our families for Christmas."
The CRC had been very correct about this installation. There were no safety precautions beyond, "Preserve the life of your employees." For limited definitions of preservation. They'd also be talking about regulation relaxation time.
Tiel hit the covert button to signal the fleet and said, "I think we're all about to have an unscheduled holiday."
[Photo by Possessed Photography on Unsplash]
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