Beast Machine

by Brad McKinniss

  Chelsey sighed and walked into the surgical room, walking through the door though she could have just gone through the wall. She sat on a stool and watched Silva begin the autopsy.

  “Clearly, it was a puncture wound to the skull then brain that killed him,” said Silva. An uneven rectangular hole about two inches deep was visible on the miner’s head. Silva unzipped the rest of body bag and tossed it to the side. An appendage on the dead miner caught his eye. “Well, at least he had a big dick while he was alive.” He smirked and laughed. “I wonder if he ever properly utilized it!”

  Chelsey would have rolled her eyes at the comment but she didn’t have real eyeballs. She blinked furiously causing a small flash of light with each blink.

  “Now, most importantly, let’s see if there was any damage to the Carda Implant.” He placed several black straps across the dead miner and then spun the padded part of the gurney to make the miner’s backside face up. The pale ass and hairy back of a dead man faced the ceiling. “There appears to be no physical damage to the man’s neck.” Silva grabbed the neck of the miner gently to examine closer. The only visible marking on the miner’s neck was a small scar from the Carda Implant operation months ago. Silva looked at the sides of the neck. No visible damage. “Hmm, nothing external. I didn’t want to actually operate tonight, but it appears I must.”

  Silva put on a surgical mask and gloves.

  “Shouldn’t you wash your hands?” said Chelsey. “I don’t have flesh, but that’s still disgusting.”

  “Eh, I should,” said Silva, rolling the tool cart closer to him, “but I feel like I’ll live.” He laughed and Chelsey shook her head. “It’s not like you can get sick.”

  Silva grabbed a scalpel from the tray. The blade was devilishly sharp. He gently carved into the back of the miner’s neck, creating a nearly perfect square in the miner’s skin around the scar from the Carda Implant. The next tool use by Silva was essentially a scalpel with a longer blade but thicker handle. It was used by Silva to slice deep enough into the miner’s skin to be able to remove the skin and any remaining body tissue. A tongs-like tool grabbed the nearly perfect cube of skin out of the miner’s neck. Silva placed the small cube of skin and body tissue on a blue plastic sheet. It looked like jello, but did not move as such.

  “What is so special about this man, again?” asked Chelsey. She had partially uploaded herself into an electronic tablet so she could peruse a game as she waited on Silva to finish the autopsy. “Is he Obelis’ friend or something?”

  Silva pulled his mask down and turned slightly, “He was the first person to kill himself with the Carda Implant inside of him. It’s not supposed to do that, well, unless I would command them to do that.” He scratched his face with the dirty gloves still on his hands. “I’m looking to see if the implant is what caused his suicide or if his mind was far too gone.” The mask returned to his face.

  “You can command them to do what you want?” said Chelsey. “Why not have more people help work on a useable, new body for me? That’s what we should be focusing on!”

  Silva’s voice muffled, “It’s not that easy, my love. I would have to specifically design an implant to make a person be able to understand the science necessary to create you a body.” He pulled his mask down. “However, once I create my next major device, I will be able to change how those with implants act in mere seconds.”

  “Do tell, my dear, do tell!”

  “Not now, my love, I need to finish this.” Silva scraped away the extra tissue remaining on the miner’s vertebrae. “Ah, there it is!” In between a set of vertebrae, the Carda Implant sat. It had grown much larger than the initial biomedical device was designed to be. It was too large for Silva to simply pull out.

  He walked to a nearby cabinet and pulled out a small medical drill. The drill was used to create an opening large enough for Silva to remove the Carda Implant. Bone, body tissue and cartilage were chipped away by the drill.

  Whirrrrrrr, zbt zbt zbt, whirrrrrrr, zbt zbt zbt.

  Silva brushed off human material from his glasses and looked back down on the miner’s neck. The Carda Implant in the neck was the size of a half-dollar, nearly four times the size it was when inserted into the person. This implant was also a slimy green and yellow color, as opposed to the original blue. Silva cut the implant out of the miner’s neck with scissors, not caring about what other remaining parts were severed.

  The enlarged Carda Implant was placed in a metallic bowl. Silva grabbed the implant with his hands. He gently squeezed it. It felt like a peeled grape, an olive, or an eyeball. He held the implant up to his eye looking to see if he could find what went wrong. Aside from the new color and size, the implant looked fine. The implant was returned to the metallic bowl.

  “Send an email to Jeffrey; I’m going to send this clearly malfunctioned Carda Implant to him so he can personally investigate what went wrong inside of the implant,” relayed Silva to Chelsey. He carried the metallic bowl over to a counter. A round container was pulled from an above cabinet. It was the size of a small coffee cup. Silva placed the implant inside the container and tightly twisted on the lid.

  “Did you send him the email?” asked Silva. He now removed a box from the cabinet. The box had shipping information already included on it. The address was to one of the many P.O. boxes that Chairman Obelis and Jeffrey used for mail services. “Chelsey?”

  “Yes, dear, I did,” replied Chelsey. “I’m in the middle of this game of solitaire. It’s much more interesting when you’re actually a part of the game.”

  “Good,” said Silva. He placed the container inside of the box and taped the box up. Silva pressed a button underneath a nearby intercom speaker. “Thane? Are you there?”

  Bzzt, pzzt, bzzt.

  “Yes, I am here,” replied Thane over the speaker. “What do you want?”

  “I have a box I need to send to Jeffrey. It’s urgent so please hurry down here.”

  “I will be down in two minutes. Have the package ready.”

  “Thank you,” replied Silva.

  -----

  There were few cars on the road as Gora buzzed around curves and down straight-aways. It had been a long, exhausting trip from Pendleton to a no-name village in rural Arkansas. But Gora was about to strike a death blow against one of her biggest abusers and enemies: Doctor Takeo Silva. That is, if Tubman was correct on Silva residing in the trailer park village consisting of miners.

  “Everyone awake?” asked Gora quietly. “We’re almost there. I figure I can ask a local about Silva at a gas station or restaurant.”

  Yawns from all three beasts could be heard.

  Owlbert and Tubman had been asleep in the front seat together. The smaller beasts shared a blanket on the long trek. A trek where none of the beasts were allowed out of the vehicle to stretch their legs for any longer than it took for them to piss or shit. Gora wanted to avoid any opportunity for the beasts to be spotted, even if it meant making them hold their bowel movements for as long as possible.

  “I need to piss,” yawned Hitbear from the back of the SUV. He ripped a fart that had been stewing in his stomach.

  “It’s woodsy around here, so when I park you can slip out the back,” said Gora. “I doubt many people are out and about – it’s late.”

  “Good,” said Tubman, stretching her arms and legs. “I need to let it out too.”

  “Just be discreet,” whispered Gora. She was slowly actualizing what she wanted to do to Silva if he is in fact living around the Pinewood Hills trailer park. Her breathing deepened.

  “There’re some lights up ahead,” relayed Tubman. “Probably a store of some kind, right?”

  “I’d guess a gas station,” said Gora. “Let’s make a stop here. I’ll see if the clerk knows anything about Silva, or this mining facility.”

  “Gut!” cheeped Owlbert finally. “I can test out mein wings again!”

  Gora pulled the SUV into the gas station parking lot. There was only one other car in the ent
ire lot and none of the pumps were in use. She backed the SUV into a parking spot on the right side of the gas station, placing the vehicle in near darkness. An abundance of trees and other vegetation were found mere inches from the edge of their parking spot.

  “Okay, time for you all to release some fluids,” said Gora. She brushed her hair behind her ears. “Be quiet, careful, and don’t hurt yourself – that’s aimed at you, Owlbert.” She pointed at him with a smile on her face to cover the intensity she was feeling.

  “Ja,” replied Owlbert. “I be careful, Frau Gora! I promise!”

  “We’ll keep an eye on him,” said Hitbear. He opened up the trunk of the vehicle and stepped out. Without the immense weight of Hitbear, the suspension of the vehicle rose back up with a violent creaking noise.

  WA-REEK. Wa-wa-reek.

  Owlbert and Tubman followed Hitbear out of the trunk, albeit without the ruckus Hitbear had caused. They made it into the woods.

  Gora entered the gas station. A small, dirty man sat behind the counter. He was reading a magazine with a large breasted woman holding a large-mouthed bass on the cover. His eyes didn’t move from the magazine when Gora entered.

  Gora milled around the snack section. Her interest waned when she saw a glass bottle containing pickled pigs’ feet. She moved her attention to the drinks behind glass doors. Nothing but beer, energy drinks, and diet soda filled the drink section. The man behind the counter was still intensely reading, or at least examining, the magazine with the large breasted woman on the cover.

  Gora grabbed a small pack of gum and made her way to the counter. She plopped the gum down.

  “Dollar and fifteen cents,” said the man, not budging from his magazine.

  “Okay,” said Gora. She fished out two dollar bills from her front right pocket. “Here you go, keep the change.” The man extended his hand as Gora placed the two dollar bills into the hand.

  “Thank you, have a nice evening,” said the man.

  “I have a question, sir,” asked Gora shyly.

  “Go on, ahead,” said the man. He placed the magazine down. He had beady reddish-brown eyes and brown leathery skin. Dirt took up residence in the many folds of skin in his face. “You sure are a pretty one, Miss.”

  Gora blushed, “Thanks, but do you know anything about a Doctor Silva in these parts? Or anything about a mining facility nearby?”

  He rubbed his face, “I ain’t know anything about a doctor, but I do know everyone that is associated with that damn mine has changed.”

  “What do you mean changed?”

  “I ain’t sure how to explain it, Miss, but ever since the mine reopened – months’n’months ago – people have been livin’, um, more pure-like, I guess, is the word. None of’em smoke anymore, don’t chew tobacco, don’t need their fix for alcohol anymore – it’s really hurtin’ my business! I was the only source for booze within walking distance for that entire trailer park. Ain’t none of them got enough money to be hitting up the road to Little Rock every damn night. No way, no how. But that’s what they been doin’ since that mine reopened.”

  “That’s strange. You have no idea what’s changed in them?”

  “No idea, Miss, just that damn mine reopening.” The man licked his lips. “Though…”

  “What is it?” asked Gora.

  “I reckon I remember hearing about how the miners had to wear these new fangled nose filter’ma’jigs to get their jobs back. Supposed to stop the Black Lung from developing, increases a miner’s lifespan, I guess. They got the first ones ever made.”

  Gora sighed, “That’s good, though.”

  “Yeah,” replied the man, “but that’s the only thing I can think to be causin’ all this change in their minds. Even when I ask about their change, all I get is, ‘I just see life in a better light’ or some nonsense. It ain’t religious either, I reckon, cause they been going to church all their lives and were still fuckin’ horrible people. It ain’t church, Miss.”

  Gora sighed again and grabbed her pack of chewing gum, “Well thank you, sir. I hope you enjoy your night and your, uh, magazine.”

  The man smiled and returned to his magazine. Gora exited the gas station slowly.

  She returned to the SUV. All the beasts were already inside and ready to find the mining facility.

  “You ready, Gora?” asked Tubman. Her ears were upright and static.

  “No,” said Gora. “I don’t think he’s in this area.”

  “What!” said Tubman. “That’s not the information the bear and me found. He’s somewhere around here. I can feel it.” Tubman’s nose twitched.

  “The clerk in there had no idea who Dr. Silva was,” sighed Gora. She put her head on the window. “All he mentioned was some filter that everyone in the nearby trailer park began using. Just some rural folk getting better healthcare for their jobs. I can’t be angry about that.”

  “Wait,” asked Hitbear, “Did you say filter? Was it used in your nose?”

  Gora removed her head from window to turn around towards Hitbear, “Yeah, it was a nose filter that would prevent Black Lung disease, I think he said. Seems like a good thing for miners to have.”

  “Gora,” said Hitbear excitedly, “Silva is definitely around here. Take us to the mine; do we know where it is exactly? Take us there!”

  “Why?” asked Gora. “He’s not anywhere around here.”

  “He invented those nose air-filters,” said Hitbear, “They’ve been playing some shitty ads on the radio for months now it seems. This must have been his test site!”

  “What commercials?” said Gora. Her face grew red out of confusion. “Are you sure? How sure are you?”

  “Nothing has felt surer in my life,” said Tubman. “Ask the bear!”

  “I’m as sure as I’ll ever be!” said Hitbear. “Let’s go burn this motherfucker down!”

  “Ja!” chimed in Owlbert. “Burn, burn, burn! Burn it down!”

  Owlbert flapped his wings violently and Hitbear awkwardly imitated explosions again.

  Gora laughed, “Well, I’m more assured now than I was five minutes ago. But we can’t burn that mine down – that’s not how we should ever operate.”

  Hitbear and Owlbert let out a collective, “Aww!” in their disappointment.

  “Gora’s right,” said Tubman. “Now, let’s find our way into the mines and scope them out. Take out Silva – if he’s in there – and then get out of there. In and out, just like we normally do things.”

  “Thank you, Tubman,” said Gora as she gently grasped the hare’s shoulder. “Let’s try to stick to the plan this time, okay, everyone?”

  Chapter 40

  Mine All Mine

  Thane returned to his duties of inspecting the mine for any defects after placing the damaged Carda Implant in the mailroom. He had grown accustomed to working around Silva, and Silva’s electronic light-based wife, but still did not feel the same comfort as he felt when working with Chairman Obelis.

  Chairman Obelis often would give Thane advice and guidance: on life, on business, on politics – on any topic imaginable. Thane rarely heeded, or needed, the advice on the extraneous topics Chairman Obelis often talked about, but he still loved to feel the love from Chairman Obelis.

  Chairman Obelis and Jeffrey were working on the campaign for governor, as Thane was stuck toiling in the mines with Silva, Chelsey, and hundreds of miners that were autonomous robots during work hours. It was a boring and tedious job for Thane. His skin refused to glow as he worked at the mine; a once minor concern that had grown into a severe dilemma for Thane.

  “Did you put the package in the mailroom?” said Silva over the radio.

  “I did,” replied Thane on his radio after removing it from the holster. “Is there anything else you need? I am about to begin my maintenance walkthrough.”

  “Maybe a pizza!” joked Silva. Thane put his radio back on his holster. “Oh, come on Thane! I’m just trying to be funny!”

  Thane walked into a room that served as
his office. It was a room that was previously reserved for security guards before the renovation. In this room there were several monitors displaying live feeds from differing angles from around the mining facility – rarely did these live feeds provide any excitement. Bright red buttons that were used to set off emergency protocols sat behind glass on the nearby wall and an intercom that could be used to speak to the entire mine was found on the wall next to the bright red buttons. Rarely were these used by Thane, or anyone.

  The only use Thane had for the objects in the office had been when he did maintenance late at night. He had to shut down the security systems because he often would be tinkering with the mining tools or elevators for the mine shafts and the security alarms would activate. The mining tools, and elevators, were not to be accessed after the workday had ended to prevent any miner from purposefully corrupting the tool to cause harm to others. It was a redundant measure considering the miners were unlikely to corrupt a tool once they received the Carda Implant. Nonetheless, Thane had to turn off the security system in the entire mine to begin maintenance.

  -----

  “Is this the mine?” said Gora quietly. The group had parked their vehicle up the road roughly a mile away and made their way to where they believed the mine to be located.

  “Seems like it is,” said Tubman. Gora handed Tubman binoculars. Tubman placed the binoculars on incorrectly before being helped by Gora. “The lights are all still on in that place, seems weird.”

  “Some mines are known to be used even at night,” said Hitbear. “It doesn’t seem like the case here, however, because it’s too quiet. We would be able to hear something even if they were deep underground.”

  “Well,” said Gora, still surveying the area, “are you ready to use your new wings outside, Owlbert?”