The Post-Apocalyptic Society: A Nelson and Hyde Revolution

by Stephanie Kato

  Reb firmly grabbed Malcolm’s chin. “Stop fighting! Your father hired me to do this because he loves you! Everything is changing! Regular humans are going to be extinct within the next few decades! It could happen within your lifetime! The choice is simple! Evolve or die!”

  Malcolm stopped struggling and took a deep breath. “All right, but I still wonder if there’s going to be problems in the long run.”

  “It doesn’t seem like Steampunks suffer from adverse effects so far. Splicing did a pretty good job of fixing my lady’s femur,” Giles said with a positive attitude.

  Reb took hold of Malcolm’s left arm. “It didn’t quite eliminate my pesky limp, but I find it much easier to walk. Anyway, hold still.”

  She shoved the needle directly into his arm and penetrated the bone. Reb slowly injected the liquid metal, allowing the modified substance to bind with Malcolm’s bone.

  “Does it hurt?” Giles asked.

  Malcolm shook his head. “Not much, but it feels very strange. I can feel the metal moving inside my arm.”

  “Now you know what power feels like. Get used to it, Malcolm. We have several more bones to graft over the next several weeks,” Reb stated.

  After they finished with Malcolm, they brought Beauregard into the room. His heart raced as he sat in the grafting chair.

  “Why are there so many straps on the chair? Does it mean people get convulsions from these experiments?” he nervously asked.

  Giles opened his briefcase. “I’ve never heard of grafting causing those kinds of issues.”

  “Where are you going to start?” Beauregard wondered out loud.

  “Your skull might be a good idea. The grafting will give you a bulletproof head,” Reb suggested.

  Beauregard liked the idea of a bulletproof skull. “That sounds cool. I’m looking forward to that.”

  Giles picked up a syringe and carefully looked at it. “You’ll need to hold very still. We’ll strap your head to the chair. The injection site will be inside your eye socket.”

  Beauregard was suddenly frightened. “No way! You have to inject the metal somewhere else! Why can’t you stick the needle into my forehead?”

  “It’s much less effective. The metal runs deep inside the entire skull if we use the eye socket,” Reb rationally said.

  Beauregard tried to wiggle out of the chair. “I’m not letting you stick a needle inside my eyeball!”

  Giles grew impatient with his client. “It’s not going in your eyeball. The needle will slide past your eyeball and into the bone. Believe it or not, you’ll barely feel a thing. I know from experience.”

  “I don’t care! This is some type of mad science! I didn’t sign up for this level of abuse! All of you are crazy! Let me go! Help! Somebody help me!” Beauregard frantically shouted while he continued to writhe in the chair.

  Giles had enough of this hysterical episode. Without saying a word, he punched Beauregard’s face. The artist immediately slumped unconscious in the grafting chair.

  Reb shook her head and said, “I thought he would never shut up.”

  She taped one of Beauregard’s eyes open.

  Giles cautiously slid the needle into his ward’s eye socket until it pierced the bone. He injected the modified metal into Beauregard’s skull, causing a successful binding process. Afterward, he slowly pulled out the needle.

  “These two guys are such wimps. Steampunk is not a wimpy culture. Malcolm and Beauregard have a long ways to go,” Giles muttered.

  Reb tightened her scarf as she said, “This is just the beginning. I’m sure they’ll feel completely different and invigorated when everything is done. Personally, I’m curious to see the finished product.”

  Chapter 6

  The next several grafting sessions were immensely frustrating for Reb and Giles. Malcolm and Beauregard both cried, protested, screamed, fought, threw objects at them, and tried to run away. At times, Reb and Giles subdued their clients with sleeping gas. Eventually, the entire grafting process was finished. As expected, Malcolm and Beauregard warmed up to their new and improved bodies. The two men became stronger, faster, and more durable. Malcolm and Beauregard developed a huge boost in confidence from their body modifications.

  Reb wanted to see her ward run at the park again. Malcolm ran quickly and easily as a Steampunk. The Germanic man felt energetic and powerful as he jogged multiple laps through the park. Reb struggled to keep up as she pedaled Gable’s tricycle. She was very impressed with his endurance and speed.

  “Hold on! I can barely keep up! This is our fifth lap!” Reb huffed while she pedaled.

  Malcolm looked behind and slowed down. “What’s the matter, Reb? You’re the one who’s riding on a tricycle. I’m running laps around you. Use your little enhanced legs to pedal faster.”

  Reb groaned, “Shut up! I’m still a cripple!”

  “No excuses! You’re the one who taught me that train of thought. I really want to improve my physicality. It will look more impressive to potential fans. A lot of women enjoy athletic men,” Malcolm said while he galloped.

  Reb rolled her eyes. “They also hate bigots. A little humility will be beneficial for you.”

  “And it’s okay for you to be a bigot? I think most people call it something different for women. Let me think… words like vain, spoiled, superficial, and conceited sound familiar,” Malcolm teased.

  “People call my relatives America’s royal family. It’s my job to be vain, spoiled, superficial, conceited, and a whole bunch of narcissistic terms,” Reb protested.

  Malcolm stopped and drank from his bottle of water. “You and Giles were right about the splicing. I feel like a new man. It’s hard to explain, but I definitely feel refreshed and unstoppable.”

  Reb caught up to him and dismounted from the tricycle. “Don’t forget that Steampunks aren’t invincible or immortal. We age and die like regular people. Our culture also has enemies. Lately I’ve been hearing about pirates robbing and killing people.”

  Malcolm shrugged. “I think the pirate scare is overrated. What are the odds we’ll run into them?”

  “Not very likely, but I still think you need to be careful. We live in a dangerous world and you need allies instead of enemies,” Reb warned.

  Malcolm understood her point. “I’ve noticed that our current time period is very different from the 21st Century. Body modification makes humans less vulnerable, but do you think it comes with a price?”

  Reb thought about it for a moment then said, “I don’t really know. It’s definitely a step in the right direction. Steampunks have a lot of problems with rival subcultures. Grafting helps human beings adapt to their environment, but it also pits cultures against each other. People have a tendency to discriminate against individuals who are different from themselves. We’re the next step in human evolution and I think that scares regular people.”

  “What about mutation? I want to know your real opinion about it,” Malcolm said.

  Reb rubbed her chin. “Mutation is a very mysterious concept to me. Steampunks still have human DNA, but that doesn’t mean that the grafting process doesn’t change our bodies. The metal in our bones undergoes a very complex modification, so it’s possible that it has side effects. I already know that we’re physically superior to regular humans, and it must come from somewhere. The Utopians swore that Steampunks were mutants who lost their ability to think like rational human beings. They also believed our culture would devolve into a primitive subhuman species. I think their beliefs are ridiculous, but we shouldn’t rule out genetic mutation yet.”

  Malcolm wasn’t sure what to take away from his discussion with Reb. “Either way, we’re stuck with it. I don’t think the splicing is reversible. Come on, I’ll race you to the crosswalk.”

  Reb watched Malcolm run across the sidewalk. She sighed and climbed on the tricycle to follow him.

  In Nevada, Gable rode his Steampunk motorcycle through the desert. He headed toward Priscilla’s peach factory that was located a f
ew miles away from Las Vegas. Gable was clad in an outfit that was appropriate for the desert heat. He also wore an aviation cap and goggles that protected his head from stray sand. The casino owner quickly reached the steam-powered factory and then pulled into a parking spot. Priscilla’s factory was a large and intimidating structure that was made out of iron. It billowed black smoke released from burning coal.

  Gable entered the factory and walked past various employees who worked on industrial equipment. The factory’s interior contained giant brass pots that were equipped with massive mixers. Various peach concoctions were ground up in the pots. Conveyer belts moved peach pies and other items of mass production. Several workers boxed up pies, pastries, cookies, and candy to be shipped across the nation. A series of mechanical gears rotated to power the factory’s equipment. Peach preserves boiled and bubbled in vats before they were cooled and poured in jars. Another group of employees loaded ice cream and frozen products into huge freezers.

  Gable removed his hat and goggles as he walked further into the factory. He approached a large door that was made out of bronze. Gable examined the small keypad and punched in a secret code that Priscilla had given him. The code worked and unlocked the door to Priscilla’s personal laboratory.

  He entered the laboratory and saw Priscilla. She was wearing a white lab coat and plastic goggles.

  “Priscilla, I wanted to see how it’s going for you. I’m on my lunch break at the moment. It might be a good opportunity to check out your new peaches before heading back to work,” Gable said as he walked closer.

  “You’re always a pleasant surprise. Here, you should wear some protective gear,” Priscilla commented, as she handed him a lab coat and goggles.

  He put on the items and asked, “What’s going on today?”

  Priscilla picked up a brass hammer and pointed to some new peaches. “These are my genetically-engineered peaches. Ideally, they should be firmer, sweeter, juicier, and stay fresh much longer. However, this type of work takes a lot of trial and error. You might want to close your eyes.”

  She raised the hammer and slammed it down on a single peach. The impact squished the peach and splattered pulp on both of them with high velocity.

  Gable was slightly alarmed. “That’s not what I expected to see today. Why are you destroying these peaches?”

  “I call this the squish test. It’s the best way for me to determine a peach’s texture. I don’t want to sell mushy peaches to the public,” Priscilla replied.

  Gable looked down at the peach pulp. “Well, this one almost exploded. What does that mean?”

  Priscilla fiddled with the hammer. “Nothing good. This one was definitely too mushy. However, I never had one explode before. Since these are genetically engineered, some of them might be unstable. I can’t mass-produce this one.”

  “This genetic engineering concept makes me nervous. Exploding peaches could lead to other problems. You’re not the person I’m worried about. However, other people might try to create dangerous things,” Gable said while wiping the peach pulp off his lab coat.

  Priscilla removed her goggles. “Steampunks are a technologically advanced culture. Scientific expansion is unavoidable. It’s just a natural part of progress. We’re going to make some mistakes along the way. Overall, it’s important for us to learn from these mistakes and make improvements.”

  She picked up one of the peaches and handed it to Gable.

  “What’s so different about this peach?” Gable wondered out loud.

  “You tell me. Take a bite out of it,” Priscilla directed.

  Gable took a bite out of the succulent peach and chewed it thoroughly.

  He was pleasantly surprised. “This is amazing! It tastes like a peach, except better!”

  Priscilla put her goggles back on. “At least one of my new peaches passed the taste test.”

  “This is great, but doesn’t it worry you that people might try to create monsters someday?” Gable asked.

  “Victor and those Utopians wondered about the same thing. I don’t want to believe they were right about anything. However, it could happen eventually. We certainly have the right technology to create all kinds of mysterious creations. One thing is absolute, monsters can be squished too,” Priscilla explained.

  She used her hammer to smash another peach.

  Reb and Giles stood behind the scenes of a popular sports commentary show. It was Malcolm’s first day as a sports commentator and he was paralyzed with fear. He worked alongside two famous sports commentators, Zachary Reuben and Spencer Ashford. They filmed the show on live television.

  “I want to talk about a hot topic in sports. Protestors say grafting should be considered a form of cheating in sports because it gives Steampunk athletes a considerable advantage over everyone else. Spencer, what do you think about that?” Zachary asked.

  “Well, I don’t think it should be considered cheating, because most athletes undergo body modifications. Although, I see their point. Grafting gives accelerated strength, speed, and durability to athletes. People who don’t splice their bodies would have a huge disadvantage,” Spencer explained.

  Zachary turned his attention to Malcolm. “Let’s see what the new guy thinks. What are your thoughts about this subject?”

  Malcolm froze and struggled to find his words. “I don’t think it’s right. No, that’s not what I meant. I wasn’t talking about the grafting. Actually, I was talking about it. Wait a minute. I have to figure this out.”

  Reb turned pale and whispered to Giles, “My reputation is ruined. He’s becoming a buffoon on live television and I’m the idiot who recommended him for this job.”

  Giles reassured her, “Just give him a minute. Malcolm is a smart guy and he’s going to pull through.”

  The two veteran sports commentators looked at each other in frustration.

  “Malcolm, let’s try this again. We’re talking about athletes and metal splicing. I’m sure you have some sort of opinion about this topic?” Spencer said, while he forced a smile for the camera.

  Malcolm snapped out of his nervous stupor. “Actually, I have very strong opinions about it. Human and metal grafting is showing great progress for sports. In the past, many football players suffered from permanent brain damage. Grafted skulls are designed to handle rough impacts. Studies have shown that enhanced football players don’t get as many concussions. They also have fewer career-ending injuries. So I think it’s an important part of safety in sports.”

  Reb sighed with relief and said quietly, “Thank goodness. Sometimes, I think this mentorship is too difficult.”

  “There’s nothing to worry about. Malcolm is already evolving,” Giles said while he stroked her shoulder.

  The following day, Reb and Giles flew from Chicago to Oklahoma City. They returned home and felt the stress weigh on their bodies. It was particularly stressful for Reb. Giles tried to find a new way for them to unwind during the evening. He pulled out the lounge in their living room and lit the fireplace. Then he went to their bedroom, undressed, and put on his bathrobe. Soon, Reb walked out the bathroom also clad in a bathrobe. As she dried her hair with a towel, she saw that Giles was hiding something behind his back.

  “I know these past several weeks have been stressful. Do you want to unwind?” Giles questioned.

  She tossed the towel aside. “Actually, that sounds like a good idea.”

  He took Reb by the hand and led her downstairs to the living room. “I want us to try something new.”

  “Don’t forget that I’m a traditional gal. In fact, you never seemed like the adventurous or experimental type either,” Reb mentioned.

  “I just want to help you relax. We’ve been spending a lot of time with Malcolm and Beauregard. Now we just need to focus on each other. Have a seat on the lounge. Let me give you a nice massage. I know you have a lot of knots in your shoulders and back. Don’t you want to feel better?” Giles said as he motioned to the lounge.

  Reb was receptive to her husba
nd’s offer. “Absolutely. I’ll follow your lead.”

  She sat on the lounge while Giles pulled the bathrobe off her body. He also disrobed and sat behind her. Giles pulled Reb close to his body in the quiet atmosphere of their living room. He grabbed a bottle of hot body oil and rubbed some of the ointment on his hands. Giles massaged the warm oil onto Reb’s shoulders and then he rubbed his hands down her slender back. Reb was pleasantly surprised by the warm oil. He massaged the tight knots out of her shoulders and back.

  Giles leaned close to her ear and whispered, “How does it feel?”

  Reb relaxed and responded, “It feels oddly soothing and warm.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Giles cooed.

  He used more of the body oil on the front of her body. Giles rubbed the oil across her breasts and taut stomach. He massaged both of her thighs and kissed her neck. Reb grew tired of the foreplay.

  She stood up and said, “My turn. Lay back and relax.”

  Giles obediently lay on the lounge while Reb poured out some of the body oil. She rubbed the oil across his tight chest and abdomen. The motion of her hands aroused him. Reb climbed on top of Giles and passionately kissed him on the lips. Giles ran his fingers through Reb’s fine hair, and then he pulled her close to him until their bodies were pressed together. He slid both hands across her slick back. As they kissed, Giles turned Reb over on her back and then he straddled on top of her. Reb kissed his shoulder and chest while she gripped his firm backside. After a while, they slowed down the pace.

  “I don’t want this night to end,” Giles quietly murmured.

  “Neither do I,” Reb cooed.

  The two lovers continued their night of intimacy while the fireplace burned.

  Chapter 7

  Several weeks passed as Malcolm and Beauregard adjusted into Steampunk society. Malcolm quickly became a popular sports commentator on a cable television network. The public became enamored by his charisma, masculinity, and tall tales. However, Reb still wanted him to get more publicity. She thought fans might be impressed if Malcolm had an adventurous image. Reb encouraged her ward to take elaborate trips, including safaris, scuba diving, and mountain climbing.