Peter took a sip of his coffee. The morning was cold and the wind bit at his fingertips and nose just as the frost had bit at the tips of the blades of grass in his front yard that morning. The smell of the coffee tantalized his olfactory senses; now that is something he would miss.
The train was shooting down the track and he heaved a sigh, as he stepped onto the charged strips of metal. The strips were designed to stop the train if any more than 10 Kilos were to press on the track, and the train would still travel 100 meters before it could stop entirely.
When Peter stepped onto the track the train was about twenty meters away. He heard the brakes squeal and then the solid thunk as his body was impacted by the train. He knew that he wouldn’t derail it, that’s one of the reasons that he had waited until now to try this plan. Before, there had always been that chance, and someone could be hurt. But with the technology of today it just wouldn’t happen.
He felt his body sail away, and as though every bone in his body had been shattered. He was conscious of everything fading out. Then he felt something he hadn’t expected, a small hope. Something deep down inside that said this just might be it, where it all came undone; this just might be the end.
Desert Track. Credit Binyamin Melissa-
“Alright Mr. Richards, how do you feel about the idea?”
Rodriguez joined me in the hall as I walked toward the gym that morning, “It looks pretty good.” I replied. “But it looks like you may have the bonds-to-molecules over time a little high. Even the presenter mentioned it.” He was referring to the video on the bonding tank procedure that he knew I had just watched.
Rodriguez was my “mentor.” Basically he was the one who made sure that nothing was wrong with me before I went into another testing phase and SHED made something wrong with me.
We reached the door to the gym, and I tapped on the glass to let the clerk know I was there before trying the door. It was locked and I looked back at him, he patted his shoulder without looking up. Sighing, I grasped my left shoulder and began to detach my robotic arm.
Stupid gym rules.
“Yes, but it’s always better to be safe than sorry. A little high won’t matter much. What’s the harm of a little extra bonding time?” Rodriguez responded as I was undoing the clasps for my arm under my sleeve.
I turned and looked at him with my one real eye, “I can think of a few things, including death, and worse.” I got the last clasp and twisted my arm free of its mechanical socket and threw it on the counter for the clerk, who picked up the limb like a maid would pick up laundry. “Besides, why have I been seeing the videos for the tank? I don’t exactly fit the reqs to test this one.”
Rodriguez scowled, “Yes, well you’re getting a little out of date for testing anyway. But the higher-ups wanted your input before going through with it. They value your thoughts on some of the more innovative experiments, and we’d like to be sure some of our estimations aren’t too far off the wall.”
I nodded. “Yeah it looks like it could work. Everything checks out in my head, but that whole bonding-to-molecules over time is still there.” I opened the door as the clerk buzzed me in. I walked into the gym and headed straight over to the heavy bag to get warmed up. I motioned Rodriguez to hold the other side of the bag but he just gave me a look that said very clearly he had no intention of holding anything for me. I shrugged and began jabbing the bag, punctuated now and then by a high, low roundhouse.
Rodriguez stood back giving me my space. “Yeah, but there’s a couple other problems with it, besides your concern about the bonds.”
“Like what?” I asked him as I delivered an elbow to the bag, and moved my torso as if to deliver a blow with my left arm, but since there was no left arm nothing happened. I thought it was best to still practice the pattern anyway.
“Like the rejuvenation chemicals aren’t getting to their target organs, they just slop up in the muscle tissues.”
I threw my knee at the bag, and began delivering a series of blows that had the 150-lbs bag swinging back on its chain. Then stepping back delivered a back spin kick followed by a crescent, and continued with the movements until I swooped down with the left side of my body toward the bag missing it entirely, as it swung back and tried to push me over. “I need that arm.” I muttered from my gut, as I turned and caught the bag with my right arm and my body.
“Do you realize how pathetic you look?” Rodriguez said with a smirk.
I gave him a sneer and rotated the implant in my shoulder so that if my arm had been there it would’ve been palm up. He got the message and barked out a laugh.
“So what do you have for me?”
“Look, I’m not going to help SHED lead kids to the slaughter off the clock. I’ve helped SHED do too much on the clock as it is.”
Rodriguez sat down on the weight bench, picked up a kettle bell and began to toss it from hand to hand. “Yeah and the boss men have noticed. That’s why they wanted you to help out on this too.”
“No. Look, if SHED wants me on, then they can assign it to me,” I jabbed my thumb at my chest. “but they’re not going to do that because I don’t fit the reqs for this one to be a subject. So it doesn’t matter anyway!”
“They want you on as a consultant, but whatever you say.” Rodriguez put the ball down and got up. “I’ll just let them know that you’re not interested in off assignment work.”
“Not with them I’m not.” I said as I watched Rodriguez leave the gym, before I got underneath the weight machine, cursing the stupid clerk with my arm.
PT 2 is HERE!
Then after that PT 3 is HERE!