The Eden Strain By Doug Klein (PART ONE)
2075 AD, Central Bio-Grid Residential District 43A, UCM.
It was Tuesday. The factory was silent, void of the sounds of productive workers going through endless tasks. Outside of its thick, metallic walls stood hundreds of workers, all in uniform, waiting to perform their menial jobs. Some started small talk with other workers about their Sunday activities, their wives, or their gross medical disorders. Others stood in silence, quietly thinking to themselves or just staring at the clock outside of the factory. Then six o’clock came around and the doors swung open and bells rang. Workers calmly piled into the factory and headed to their stations. The loud, intoxicating roar of the generators bellowed through the factory halls. Workers scurried around like ants, darting around each other and the machinery, and heading to their destination without any hesitation.
Frank was among the pandemonium, and he too, just like the others, was only concerned about getting to his post. He meandered through the various pathways until he reached his area of the assembly line. He put on his hard hat and safety goggles and turned on his machine. The factory made scrap metal into various parts for later assembly, and Frank operated the machine that diced up the lighter metals. Frank began working and keeping to himself, keeping most of his focus on the machine and its operation. Eventually, his friend John, who operated the machine which sterilized the metal, sat near him at his machine.
“Hello there, Frank.” John said with a faint smile.
“Hi John, how was your Sunday?” Frank replied.
“Good, spent some time paying bills and dropped off my weekly taxes.” John had turned back to his work, but nodded as he spoke.
“Sounds productive.” Frank said while keeping his eyes on his machine.
“Yeah, it was. How was your Sunday, Frank?” John asked.
“It was good. I dropped off my weekly taxes as well, and then I worked my civil duty for the month.” Frank said with a sigh.
“Good to hear.” John said as he stared eagerly at his machine.
“Yeah, I wasn’t feeling too well yesterday, I think my food ration was a little outdated.” Frank said.
“Did you tell a Medical Officer that?” John asked, still engrossed with his machine.
“I sent a notice to the Medical Office, but you know that it won’t be processed for a few weeks.” Frank said as he checked the gauges of his machine.
“True.” John had begun to get printed readouts, and his attention to their conversation had started to wane.
The two then drew silent as they worked. Each was in their own world, concentrating only on their task at hand. John was checking and resetting the sterilizing equipment to ensure pure sterilization while Frank was checking the pressure of the chopping pistons. Frank went to write down some gauge statistics when he noticed some blood drip onto his check sheet. He felt perplexed, and then he gazed at his hand. Blood was beginning to stream out from under his fingernails. Frank gasped with pure fright and stumbled back from his machine. The commotion caused John to take his eyes off his machine momentarily. John saw Frank’s fingertips oozing with blood. He stood up in shock.
“John, help me. I feel lightheaded. Help me.” Frank uttered with a sense of urgency. John immediately backed away.
“Oh God, you’ve got it. You’re infected!” John said as he continued to back away.
“Help me, please John, help me!” Frank's eyes screamed of panic. He was reaching a bleeding hand towards John, who recoiled in absolute disgust.
“Oh God!” John quickly turned and ran to the emergency speaker box. He spoke to the operator on the other side.
“This is Employee 236, we have an infection breach on floor 3, section 15! I repeat; we have an infection breach! Call for Sterilizers!” John shouted into the speaker box, his saliva coating the input speaker.
It was almost instantaneous. Sirens went off, sending a painfully high-pitched squeal through the factory. The factory workers quickly went through the emergency precautions of grabbing air masks from their emergency kits and heading into sterile rooms located on each floor. John ran, grabbing his emergency air mask as Frank fell to his knees, completely lightheaded and unable to walk. As the last of the workers scrambled out of the work space, three men in black contamination suits stormed in. Normally, Sterilizers respond in three to five minutes, but because of recent outbreaks, most working areas had a team on hand.
The Sterilizers wore black military grade containment suits, with white metallic masks. The masks were made as an homage to the plague doctors of years passed, but these were at the front edge of technology. The beak portion was an environmental scanner, and could switch from regular air input to a secure backup pack at the first detection of poison. Through jet black glass that served as eye holes, the haunting figures now had a target in sight that was causing all diagnostics to flash warnings of all kinds on the HUD within the mask. The Sterilizers surrounded Frank, who was trembling in fear.
“Help me. I…I’m bleeding.” Frank said as his body convulsed.
The Sterilizers said nothing. One move towards Frank with a large mechanism which resembled a rifle, except that it had three needles at the tip. Frank shook his head and screamed as the Sterilizer stabbed the needles into Frank’s chest. Frank collapsed to the floor. The Sterilizers quickly took out their necessary instruments, and within minutes had cut off Frank’s hands, placed them in a containment bag, burned Frank’s body to ashes, and had vacuumed Frank up. The Sterilizers left and the factory was silent again.
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Frank's severed hands sat in their own gore, sealed in biohazard bags. The three Sterilizers that had responded to the incident were now in a mobile clean room, giving a rundown of the situation to another group of three Sterilizers. These new men had more insignias patched onto their suits, one in particular stood out. A profile view of an old plague doctor mask being removed with a white skull face with the words "Death Will Not Win" embroidered around the image in a circular fashion. These men were MSF, the Mobile Sterilization Force, a dangerous and high-ranking order in the hierarchy of the Sterilizers. The Sterilizers who had incinerated Frank had finished their take on the event, and now waited in silence.
Two of the MSF agents looked at each other for a moment, with one nodding eventually. The one standing at the forefront then moved to the other Sterilizers. His sudden movement made two of the three subordinate men flinch. Fears erased as the lead MSF agent grasped the shoulder of the lead Sterilizer from the factory.
"Great work, boys. This is the kind of efficiency you need in these dire times. What was the call code again? Oh yes, 376-SK. I will be sending in a commendation to headquarters immediately." The man’s voice boomed form behind the mask, and his smile could almost be felt in the way he delivered his words. The word "Punchline" was displayed like a name on his right pocket. Most Sterilizers were identified by their personal code number, usually their group number with two other digits added on. Those given nicknames were of a high rank. No real names were used, since bio-terrorist groups had targeted and slaughtered several Sterilizers years prior. The other two with Punchline were a tall one named "Ogre" and a thin one called "Curveball". Punchline jabbed his head to the door and the three began to leave. As they hit the threshold, Punchline paused and turned back to the group of 376-SK.
"Anything else we need to know gentlemen, before we are off?" Punchline had less humor in his voice now. One of the Sterilizers fidgeted for a second, and then stood up straight, at attention, and spoke.
"Frank Walters had a spouse. She lives in the Brickstone Suburban Complex. Her status is...undetermined." The last word fell out of his mouth with more uncertainty than he had wished to convey. Punchline looked back at his men, nodded. Ogre snatched up the bags with Frank's hands, and Curveball followed behind.
"Great work again, boys." Punchline, Ogre, and Curveball moved quickly out of the room as a collective breath was audibly exhaled behind them.
CHECK OUT PART TWO COMING SOON
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