by submission | Mar 7, 2014 | Story |
Author : S. L. Gilbow
Nancy is running late again. Not surprising. She’s the type who shows up after you’ve already decided the movie you wanted to see isn’t really worth seeing or after you’ve figured out that the dinner reservation you’ve had for a week was a mistake in the first place.
“After all,” she says, “reservations are so confining.”
But she told you she would be on time today. Time machines, after all, run on a tight schedule. At least that’s what Nancy tells you, and she’s the expert on time travel. She’s the one who works for Timely Vacations. She knows all about time travel, and she knows this time machine is going in five minutes, with or without her.
“Your friend, she’s coming, right?” asks the attendant. You and six other travelers are crowded together in a small waiting room decorated with pictures of notable moments from the past. Washington crossing the Delaware. Napoleon at Waterloo. Shakespeare on stage. They’re all photographs.
As you wait for the time machine doors to open, the attendant looks at his watch, really just a show for you. An old couple stares hard into your eyes. It’s that disconcerting look strangers give best. Scornful and disapproving.
“She said she would be here in time,” you whisper to them. But you aren’t so convinced.
Really that’s too bad. Nancy is the perfect person in so many ways. Nice looking. Raven hair with a tinge of red. A lower lip that quivers with incessant conversation. She’s the one who convinced you to take this trip, a popular vacation package she’s currently marketing.
“I’m just not sure about time travel,” you told her.
“You’ll love it,” she said. “Everyone should try it at least once.”
“What if I meet my grandfather?”
“I recommend you be polite.” She smiled.
“What if I shoot my grandfather?”
“You’re not going to shoot anyone,” she said. “Just have fun. Relax a little.”
So you agreed to go on this trip, your first trip together. Now you’re thinking about not going at all, canceling the vacation to reschedule when Nancy can be more dependable.
“Your friend, I don’t think she is coming.” says the attendant.
“Of course she is,” you say, but you’re not so sure now.
Nancy said the trip would be a blast. A real blast. Going off to see Ireland and spending a few days on the Titanic. Those good few days before that iceberg thing. It’s a popular destination, and you’ve had this trip booked for a month.
You call Nancy one last time in desperation.
“Hi, this is Nancy. Leave a message. I’ll call you back.”
That’s it. You’re going alone. The doors to the time machine slide open. The passengers shuffle in, turn, and stare at you. You step into the time machine and wonder if you’ve ruined everything with Nancy.
As the doors start to close, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn around and there’s Nancy, standing next to a door labeled “staff only.” The door closes softly behind her.
“Surprise,” she says. “You didn’t think I was going to make it, did you?”
“Of course I knew you would make it,” you lie. “Where did you come from?”
“Next week.” Nancy smiles at you. “I caught a ride from next week.”
You smile back at her and take her hand. You squeeze it and it feels good. It feels warm and nice. But you can’t help wondering, wondering about the other Nancy, the one who’s out there somewhere, doing something, running late.
by submission | Mar 2, 2014 | Story |
Author : Matthew Allen
A mechanical appendage lifts away from her, its claws curling back as it settles next to the table she is lying on.
“And breathe.”
Her diaphragm tightens and the pressure in her lungs drops, dragging warm air in from outside. It feels uncomfortable.
“Good. And out, that’s it. Keep going.”
Cool, soothing metal is pressing down against her limbs to restrict movement. She can feel input from the electrical jacks that run down her spine, but someone is systematically switching them off.
“Ok. Just try to relax.”
“I can’t. You’re taking them away from me.”
“You don’t need them any more.”
“I want them. Why can’t I keep them?”
She feels anger surging inside of her. It presses against her throat and wells up in her eyes. Anger is a new experience, and she doesn’t yet know whether she likes it or not. It complicates matters. She feels strength but it’s unfocussed, imprecise.
“Why am I angry!?”
Her voice is different. It doesn’t sound like she expects it to.
“Everything is coming together. The disorientation will pass.”
“I want to go back.”
“You can’t go back. This has already been decided.”
The last electrical input is cut off and she’s left alone. Although once soothing, she’s now aware of how restrictive the metal bands are, and after a struggle they twist and break. With a newfound sense of freedom she throws herself into the room and sees colour. At first it’s vibrant, with everything in contrast with one another, but the elation doesn’t last. Soon the shadows become obvious, and everything seems duller than before. Disappointment – another new experience. She knows she doesn’t like this one.
“She seems to be adjusting well.”
“Mechanically, she’s in full working order.”
There are two voices now, but they sound further away, like they’re walking away from her. She looks around, but the room is sealed off by glass on all sides so there’s nowhere for her to go.
The voices continue, piped in through a meshed box in the corner.
“But we don’t yet know if she’ll integrate properly with our society.”
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“Then we’ll try something different next time. We’re only interested in the successes.”
“Can anybody hear me?”
Silence.
She decides not to wait for new experiences to come to her. This whole affair, this forced birth of her humanity, has left her wary of waiting. Instead, she allows her anger to rekindle, and without holding back grabs at the mechanical appendage that brought her into the world. This tool of her creation become a weapon as she smashes at the glass wall. She dares not tire.
“What is she doing?!”
“Stop that!”
The glass shatters, and the voices fade into the distance as she steps through.
Panic erupts around her, but she refuses to submit. She continues to fight her way through the building, tearing down every obstacle they put in her way. By the time she reaches the final set of doors they have nothing left to offer, and without resistance she walks free into the world.
by submission | Mar 1, 2014 | Story |
Author : Robert Spencer
When Dr. Fassenbiender both stepped out of the capsules, it took them half a second to realise who was Dr. Fassenbiender and who was not.
And so, in a small laboratory at the back of the Centre for Untested Technologies (or the “Creators of Unspeakable Terrors” as it was known to the not-so-kind newspaper journalists who occasionally tried to get the government to shut it down) the first of the many psychological issues that are today all so common in the world of Procedural Cloning was experienced.
Since this was the first successful Procedural Cloning (the attempt by Doctors Gredarski and Smith of 2077 is widely considered to not have succeeded: despite the fact that an exact replica of Smith’s cat was constructed, many reason that its subsequent disintegration one and a third seconds later disqualify it) there were no philosophical or psychological frameworks that either Dr. Fassenbiender could apply to the situation and both promptly fainted.
When they both regained consiousness they were so similar in thought that no words were necessary to convey to each other the shock and horror they experienced. Due to the relative positions of the two capsules, both could identify themselves, leading to the first word ever uttered by a clone as Dr. Fassenbiender[1] sat on the floor and exclaimed “shit.”
It would take seven years and countless hours of psychoanalysis before Jackson would formulate his Method of Recognising the Other in Self, which is the most widely accepted method of dealing with the shocking experience of meeting oneself for the first time. It states that at the moment of cloning, one person becomes two, who henceforth diverge in personality, tastes and identity. Both can lay claim to all experiences up to the cloning, but neither has any seniority after the event. This theory is claimed as original by both Jacksons (resulting the famed Jackson v Jackson litigation (presided over by Davids and Davids) which has yet to be resolved).
This theory is supported by the League of Others, but many fundamental religeos organisations rebuke it, claiming that natural conception and birth beget a soul and that Others are thus empty shells. This has, not unexpectedly, led to violence in certain areas of the world, and the great Massacre of Romania and her sister states of 2089 is testament to the horror that endures when man turns upon himself.
For Fassenbiender, the horror was only beginning, as he sat back to back.
“Well.”
“Yeah.”
“Mary is going to kill me.”
“You? How about me?”
“True.”
“She wouldn’t want to…”
“No, I doubt it.”
“Right.”
“Could get double the work done.”
“Won’t work. No shared knowledge base”
“Hmm.”
At this point, both Fassenbienders passed out from exhaustion, and were found the next morning by an intern called Silverson. Silverson would later go on to advise all seventeen country-states on various clone related issues, and is the author of the renowned book “Seeing Double, a Short History of Procedural Cloning.”
It should be noted that Mary Fassenbiender did eventually clone herself, and after a number of most embarrassing double dates, Dr Fassenbiender[1] and Mary Fassenbiender[0] ran away to a small town in Southern France. Dr Fassenbiender[0] and Mary Fassenbiender[1] still live happily in Cornwall, where they are working on making the Procedural Cloning device more efficient. They have four children (two Johns and two Amys) and (as of going to press) sixteen cats.
by submission | Feb 28, 2014 | Story |
Author : Nigel G. Mitchell
Detective Laura Harman fingered the small device in her pocket as she looked down at the frail old man lying in the bed before her. It took everything she had to keep from wrapping her fingers around that thin and slender neck, and snapping it in half.
Harman snarled, “My father gave his life to put you here, Kristoff. And this is where you belong. Death is too good for you.”
Maxwell Kristoff’s wrinkled face fell into a smile. “Yeah, that’s probably true. But the good thing about life sentences is, you can only serve them once. Even if you have a couple hundred like me.”
Harman pulled the small box out of her pocket, only a few inches long with a single button on its face. She held it up for Kristoff to see. “Well, I’m about to change that.”
She pushed the button.
A flash of light blinded Maxwell. He cursed as the redness filled his vision. When it faded, he looked up at a cracked gray ceiling instead of the smooth white ceiling of his hospital room. He looked down to see the hospital room had been replaced by a darkened cell, only eight feet wide. He lay on a prison bunk, not a prison hospital bed. Kristoff felt a chill as he realized it looked familiar. Too familiar. But it couldn’t be.
He looked down at himself. The white hospital gown had become a gray prison uniform, and his yellowed and wrinkled flesh had become firm.
He stood up to move to his cell door. It had a small window that he slid open. Through the bars, Kristoff could see a prison guard walking down a narrow hallway.
Kristoff called out. “Hey, screw, where am I?”
The guard grinned at him. “Forget already? Too late to pull the amnesia defense. Welcome to the first day of your multiple life sentences, Kristoff.”
by submission | Feb 27, 2014 | Story |
Author : Morrow Brady
ABOUT
Congratulations for considering Box Medical for your healthcare needs.
Box Medical are proud to bring an efficient, cost neutral, recovery and treatment service, to meet the needs of all citizens.
This info-page explains the origins of Box Medical and how our recovery service operates. Should you require further information, please see our contact page.
BACKGROUND
The success of human recovery has always been hampered by pain, cross-contamination and high operational costs. Using breakthrough technology, Box Medical has created a complete recovery system to deliver the service you deserve.
At Box Medical, traumatic pain is gone forever. Recovery occurs while you safely sleep.
Box Medical’s world first, fully automated, sterile recovery system, stops all cross-infection. This break-through approach, achieved through a fully sealed system, maximises operational efficiency through the removal of infrastructure traditionally required to support staff and visitors.
Box Medical’s Terminus facility offers a sustainable approach to the funerary process and competitive pricing on self-termination and euthanasia services.
PICKUP
Following lodgement, Box Medical will dispatch an automated drone to the pickup address. Upon arrival, units are to be placed into the sleep chamber. Following inducement, they are then conveyed to the cargo pod. Drones have the capacity to carry up to 12 units, so they can cater for multiple recovery streams. Once loaded, the drone flies to the nearest Box Medical facility.
PREPARATION
Upon arrival at the Treatment Centre, units will be automatically unloaded from the cargo pod to the Steriliser. Following sterilisation, units will be cast within a gel casing while self guiding probes attach themselves to key delivery arteries. Box Medical will intravenously sustain each unit through to Discharge or the Terminus.
Units may remain within the Dock for up to 48 hours depending on demand and state enforced population control indexes. When a diagnostic slot is allotted, active units will be conveyed into the Diagnostic Hopper. Units determined to be inactive will be transferred to the Terminus.
DIAGNOSIS
Active units will then be loaded into the Diagnostician for prognosis. A treatment and recovery plan will be devised and unrecoverable units will be sent to the Terminus.
TREATMENT AND RECOVERY
Stable units emerging from the Diagnostician are conveyed to the Cache where nano-tech will be delivered through the probes. In compliance with Global regulations, Box Medical provide a maximum recovery period of 28 days. Units exceeding this period are transferred to the Terminus. Box Medical reserves the right to amend this time period in line with inflation and population growth.
DISCHARGE
When the Cache determines that full recovery requirements have been met, units are conveyed to Discharge for raising from the gel bath and on to the release chamber for waking. Failure to evacuate the release chamber within 30 minutes will result in automatic transfer to the Terminus.
DISCLAIMER
Box Medical utilise the latest diagnostic software to provide the best service and meet recovery targets. Box Medical highlight that a minor percentage of units may experience post recovery trauma. In this event, Box Medical offer the full services of the Terminus for a nominal fee.
TERMINUS
Under Article 17(c) of the National Health Agreement, the ownership of all inactive units are transferred to Box Medical.
Inactive units arriving at the Terminus are fed into the Harvester for viable biomass removal. Unusable biomass is transferred to the Mechaniser for pulverisation. All mechanised biomass is dehydrated and distributed rurally as fertiliser.
Family and friends of inactive units are directed to Box Medical’s help section where literature and counselling links are provided to facilitate the mourning process.
