Reanimated_Terminal Misery

by Jon State

  The doctor emptied the chalice and nearly threw it at Jondis. “I waited and waited for you to come yesterday and most of today. I had no water or food. It’s-a hundred degrees out here!” he said hoarsely. His knees buckled but the Alphas supported him.

  “Doctor, I'm truly sorry, but the others made it back to Terranova just before nightfall yesterday. We’ve been searching for you all day today,” Jondis protested, tugging at his sweat-soaked uniform to confirm his words. "Where are the others?" Jondis insisted. He watched the doctor’s expression crumble.

  “Those damn lizards got Miller first. They were all over him, tearing…" He faltered, and his eyes became vacant, but when an Alpha handed him some dry fruit preserves, he seized the bounty and shoved them into his mouth in one fistful. He chewed fast and swallowed painfully.

  “Well?” Jondis urged him on with an emphatic hand gesture.

  “I couldn’t help Miller. There were too many."

  “And Gonzales?”

  “Gonzales was faster than me and moved ahead of me fast." He gulped down a pouch of water another Alpha handed him. "It was an ambush, and Gonzales ran right into them…. He didn't stand a chance. I recognized those stinking purple lilacs, and they saved my life.”

  “You more than stink—you reek! I can taste it when I swallow,” Jondis said, using a hand to cover his nose.

  “Yes, and it saved me. Those things kept circling the area but stayed clear of my location—thanks to the smell. So you see, I couldn’t move from this spot?”

  “Did you see Gonzales go down?” Jondis urged, ignoring the doctor’s ranting.

  “No, but he screamed. Then I heard the same…hideous growls, and hissing—like when they attacked Miller—so I assumed the worst.”

  “Can you show me the last place you saw him?”

  "You want to linger out here? There were dozens of those things," the doctor said, failing to notice how he tugged on Jondis's shirt sleeve.

  "The Alphas will take-point, and I'll guard the rear. They’ll create a perimeter around us if we encounter any opposition. Now, are you able to walk or do you need some help?”

  “I believe I can walk,” he said, standing straight and squaring his shoulders. He tried to compose himself when he realized how cowardly he must seem to Jondis. His legs felt tired, but the water and food had boosted his strength. He surveyed the terrain while holding a hand to his temple to ward off the sun’s reddish beams. Purple clouds hung in carefully traced lines across the sky. “There, in that direction. I only know it because I ran toward this large rock column searching for shelter.”

  They followed the path until they came across an area of disturbed soil. There they found Gonzales’s Z-9 rifle laying on the barren ground. Further ahead were parts of his tattered clothing—

  a belt buckle, his .45, his watch, and what appeared to be a few teeth. Some weeds were working on the garments, attempting clean the blood that remained on them. The indigestible items seemed to be wiped clean. A small purple grass's roots rummaged through the cover of a candy bar.

  “Gonzales," Jondis whispered. He heard Dr. Spencer whimper. "Alphas, recover the sergeant's remains and possessions. We’ll need something to bury.”

  Chapter 61

  Coward

  Terranova, USC

  May 28, 4087

  The rescue team’s return was met with great mourning due to the loss of Gonzales and Miller, two highly cherished community members. Once Dr. Spencer gathered with their friends—who were his as well—the guilt began to gnaw at him like a ravenous animal. They shared stories regarding the two men, their exploits and even humorous moments, down to Gonzales's cheery disposition and Miller’s southern ways.

  Was there something I could’ve done? Should I have gone back to check on Gonzales instead of hiding like a coward? he pondered. I’ve turned into a weak old fool. That’s why I was so frail within a day and a half with no food or water. He’d known those men for more than twenty years.

  Or, maybe I have lost my nerve, he nearly said out loud. No one seemed bent on blaming him, but he did search their faces for signs. Ben approached him and he wanted to turn away from the man’s bulky mass. The man had picked up weight as the city had prospered.

  “I am so sorry for everything, Spence. You seem stronger now. When can you get started in the lab?" Ben asked as if the doctor suffered from a mild cold.

  “I would like some time. Gonzales was a…” He didn’t feel like giving Ben a complete answer. He wanted to tell him to back off, but that wouldn't solve anything. These men were dead because Ben didn’t send the proper escort. He checked his anger and leaned, instead, towards diplomacy, deciding to remain silent. He turned to leave, and the Council members followed him with their hard gazes.

  Ben had demanded he go along with the six men, insisting he knew what they needed and the others could fail to bring back an essential component. Ben had said, ‘One trip is hard enough, Spence,' and then added, ‘To save many some sacrifices have to be made.' Doctor Spenser had frowned at his philosophical ranting. ‘I bet you’re not intending on volunteering for any foreseeable mission, Ben,’ He’d countered, as he’d brashly left the med clinic, leaving Ben’s mouth agape.

  For days he’d been gloomy and his face sallow. Malica tried to comfort him, but he wanted to hurt—he felt he owed it to his two fallen friends. He did feel a bit better, but each time he saw Captain Pierce or Sergeant Efrem, he could almost read their minds.

  Something had happened to him when he’d seen Miller being torn apart. Or perhaps it had happened long ago. He felt weak. He felt useless. Malica tried to use her counseling skills, but it was hard for him to open up to her. He preferred to suffer in silence. He promised himself that he would carry this shame to his grave.

  Chapter 62

  Chamber

  Terranova, USC

  August 18, 4088

  “Charlie 4, transfer final data to terminal ZCAM-9.” Dr. Spencer ordered in a rusty tone which pleaded for rest.

  “Understood,” said an unseen voice.

  The room’s lights were set to supernova brightness. The retrofitted stasis toaster shone like polished glass. An array of hoses and wires were zip tied together in a patchwork, resembling a giant colorful snake. Canisters with contents ranging from course soil to salt-like grains were scattered asymmetrically throughout the room. Partitions with see-through plastic-like sheets shielded the scientists from any mishaps, which had occurred several times during early testing.

  “Doctor, no anomalies noted upon final sweep,” said Charlie 4.

  He’d been waiting for this response for the past fifteen months. The Doctor looked wide-eyed at Johnson and Sammis. “Charlie 4, can you confirm that the entire six cycle program is clear of impurities?”

  “Yes, Doctor. Would you like to run another sweep?”

  "No, Charlie 4, your precision is impeccable. The programs need for perfection was paramount, one miscalculation would leave the subject mutated or crippled. Standby Charlie 4."

  He looked at the two men with a gleam in his eyes they had not seen in a long time.

  “Gentlemen.” Dr. Spencer motioned for Johnson and Sammis to follow him. They walked evenly to the next room, and Dr. Spencer closed a thick glass door behind them.

  Charlie 4’s video-receptor failed to notice the three men embracing in a joyous circle. They spun and bounced around like grade-school youths ready for spring break. The three men finally emerged, with inextinguishable smiles.

  Dr. Spencer put his hand on Charlie 4's headless body as if to include him in on the celebrating. “Charlie 4, save data and make backups. Send copies to each Council member’s terminal, as well.”

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  Dr. Spencer's smiled died as he turned to the door when he realized what this meant. The full potential of it hit him like a slap. Perhaps, he'd worked on it so hard and for so long that he'd forgotten the implications, and their real goal to procreate naturally and that of waking up eve
ryone on the serum. He had gone along with Ben's plans and forgot himself in the process. This was an abomination and he was at the center of it.

  Chapter 63

  Ethics

  Terranova, USC

  August 19, 4088

  Ben’s grin shone for all to see. He could hardly wipe it from his face as he explained the particulars of what they were up against and how hard everybody had worked. "We are ready for human trial," he announced animatedly. "A few months ago, I proposed we could reanimate a full human being, rather than aiming for a lengthy cloning process, and…” Ben paused, his gaze spanning the gathered dignitaries. “I am convinced we have found a way to perpetuate the human race--until we can capsize the sterility which afflicts our people, that is.”

  Ben paused, examining the hopeful faces that seemed to wither where they sat. He turned to a large 3-D screen and glanced over his shoulder at the expectant crowd. “Mathew, if you may—I give you, Terranova’s future." He raised both arms sidelong as the holographic image awakened, displaying the altered toaster. "This, my fellow citizens, is the reanimation chamber." He turned to address them directly, allowing Mathew time to work the images according to the process itself. "With a streamlined process we can reanimate a human within five days," he said, as the stages played out on the screen. "Of course, we don't have any specifics concerning patient release times until we have a subject to base them on, but our best numbers indicate we can add a full-fledged member to our lovely society within one month.” Ben tried to read the shocked looks he received.

  It seemed as if everyone had stopped breathing as if the room were bereft of life—Ben felt as if his heart had stopped—then there was a faint clap from someone in the rear, followed by another. Before long, everyone was standing, offering a raucous applause.

  Dr. Spencer applauded judiciously. He glanced at Malica, who gazed back at him like-minded. He noticed how Malica’s once-brilliant blue eyes had grown dull. Age lines had crowded around them, but she remained just as stunning to him as the day they’d first met back on Old Earth. He often wondered if the serum had anything to do with the lackluster in her eyes. The fire she had once commanded had also ebbed a bit following the serums roll-out. He was convinced that by altering the gifts the people had acquired, they’d missed a great opportunity, like a chance to share in New Earth's wonders. No powers opposed to no alacrity. In time, only Mother would be his judge. He apologized to Malica in silence as he often did.

  Ben motioned for everyone to take their seats. “Do we have any questions?”

  “Who are we bringing back first?” said a hidden face.

  “His name is Daniel Fleming.”

  “I know Daniel,” someone articulated.

  “He was a neuroscientist, and his stasis pod went offline last,” Ben declared.

  “Is there any reassurance we will resurrect a real human and not an ailing monster,” said a portly man with spectacles and sinking eyes.

  Ben stifled a swallow, which took the pitch from his tone. He knew they'd eventually ask this question, but he hoped the excitement would allow them to build a strong case for the program first. Damn Snide Perkins. “Good question, Dr. Snide. We have refined the lasers and have optimized the recent tests results, which—”

  “You don’t know,” Tomas Strum said, noticing Ben’s hesitation. Lately, he’d commenced questioning the moral implications of drugging their citizens, and when would it end? He and Ben had exchanged harsh words concerning the repercussions. Ben downsized all his concerns, backed up by the majority of the Council. Dr. Strum was surprised when Dr. Spencer had come to his aid. He thought the doctor was on Ben's side on the matter.

  “You are correct. We can only hope we have—”

  “You mean Daniel could come back deformed?” interrupted the person who claimed to have known Daniel.

  “There is a ninety-three percent success ratio. That is nothing to sneer at. If any of you recall, we were guaranteed an eighty-five percent success ratio when we entered the cryogenic chamber. Did anyone among you lose a limb or an organ?” Ben retorted.

  A long pause ensued. The atmosphere in the room became heavy as if emotions were a tangible thing. Dr. Spencer glared at Ben; a hint of amusement outlined his lips.

  “Very true, Ben, but if the seven percent involves growing fingers from my ass, then I have to question if we should even try this,” another person said, glancing at his neighbor for consensus.

  “Listen—worst case scenario, some memory loss or numb limbs," Ben lied. “Is this not worth being alive again and repopulating Earth with humans?”

  Murmuring ensued and came to a crescendo, bothering Ben so much he nearly bit a hole in his cheek, but then he noticed some heads bobbing.

  "Very well," said a white-haired woman with lively blue eyes, which contrasted with her creased, pale sagging face. “At least someone will continue what we started.”

  Ben lifted a finger and waiting for full room alertness. “We have only skimmed the possibilities. Once we have verified that the procedure is foolproof…” He surveyed their faces, ready to deliver the crucial blow. “We can reanimate ourselves and live on, my friends.”

  The combined sighs seemed to suck the air from the chamber.

  Ben continued, “How many times can we do this?" He paused briefly and answered his own question, “Depends on our first subjects.”

  Dr. Spencer had grown used to Ben’s theatrics, but he hated to admit the man spoke the truth. Once they had a viable subject, they could, theoretically, reanimate anyone as many times as possible, depending on the cost of such a delicate procedure.

  The pall that had hung over the room seemed to dissipate at Ben’s announcement.

  “We have also come to the conclusion that the subject may return rejuvenated. How young? We are not sure, but their metabolism will be invigorated,” Ben added, noticing the immediate response this had on the old, tired faces.

  “I hate to be the devil's advocate.” Dr. Snide's tone spiked.

  Fat lout! Ben said so loud in his mind that he expected others to hear. His face remained blank as he turned to face the man, allowing a jovial expression to cross it.

  “Will we need different body parts, as in Frankenstein's monster?”

  “Let's refrain from overblown questions, please. In this case, however, this is a great question.” Ben watched as Dr. Snide pouted. "We can use few remains from the individual we intend to reanimate as long as we have a full DNA construct, but the more we have, the faster the process.”

  “When is Daniel’s reanimation scheduled to commence?”

  “As soon as Dr. Spencer and his team are ready,” Ben said, nodding to the doctor.

  Dr. Spencer cleared his throat, “We are as ready as we’ll ever be.”

  Ben wished the man showed a bit more enthusiasm. "Then let's adjourn the meeting and allow the Doctor to get to work. Ben slammed the gavel hard to clear Dr. Spencer's flat response from everyone's mind.

  Chapter 64

  Reanimated

  Terranova, USC

  August 21, 4088

  “Subjects catabolism and anabolism levels normal. Subjects skin osmosis normal. Subjects skeletal structure—”

  “Charlie 4, when will subject awaken?” Dr. Spencer intervened.

  “Three hours until revival, Doctor.”

  “Good. Go to silent assessment. If there are any anomalies, notify me immediately.”

  “Affirmative.”

  Doctor Spencer was too giddy with excitement to hear any more readings. They had gone over the possible ramifications with the council until his brain seemed to melt like lava. They ran through so many simulations that he’d started seeing a hand ascending from the toaster as the lid rose—a Mirage, potentially due to exhaustion. Now he had to do a reality check. Okay, this is the real thing. Soon we will be introducing our first reanimate to the recovery room, his mind raced.

  Terranova's current human population had suffered significant losses along the w
ay, with no one to take their place. Every Council member yearned for this process to work, though many had their doubts. A substantial portion of the colonists had become aged and fragile, in more than a physical sense. Most forgot the powerful gifts they had once wielded, including how the Dreamers and Mirra had guided them with Mother’s help, which is why most doubted the project would work. Magic had disappeared from within their midst, and only the threatening landscape around them remained as a reminder of what had been.

  The Doctor tried to ignore the time, which only prolonged it. He rubbed the chill from his clammy hands.

  “Anxious?” Ben said, startling the doctor.

  “Of course. You know what's riding on this, the doctor said turning to him. He’d known the man before the cataclysm. Ben had developed severe wrinkles under his eyes, and his jawline had become jelly. The serum had helped for a while, but everyone still aged. One could not outrun Father Time. Aging revealed itself in every member, especially in the older population. He'd had to train others to see to the elderly since he committed all his efforts to the reanimation process.

  “I trust you, Spence. Everyone trusts you—and you’ve had the best team at your side at all times.” Ben put a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “Our time is now. We can correct our forefather’s mistakes, make it right. Imagine a world without violence, war, or tyranny—not the chaos we left behind on Old Earth.” Ben pulled a chair and Sat facing the Doctor.

  “My wife and many loved ones are back on that terrible Old Earth.” The doctor corrected.

  “I didn't mean it was all bad, Spence. War plagued our history. The Bisonons visit created some respite but, before the Cataclysm China and the USC were at it again.