The Decommission Agent

by Nash, Lisa

  A woman on the side of the stage cleared her throat, and he turned to her. She pointed to her wrist to signify that he was wasting time. He needed to say something. The silence was becoming more than awkward. It was becoming alarming.

  He nodded and looked at the teleprompter and then peered down at the note his father had handed him just before the presidential candidate stepped out on stage. He watched as the first words scrolled up the screen. He read them without speaking and then said, “I have something to say…” He cleared his throat. “I’m supposed to discuss my economic plan with you today. It’s a good plan – a great plan, in fact. I’m very proud of it and the people who helped me put it together – although, let’s be honest, they did more than help me put it together. They created it with very little input from me. They share my general basic philosophy, so they developed a plan that I support.

  “That’s the way politics works. Politicians like me stand at podiums like this every day and take credit for things they don’t do. Either because we don’t have the time or the brains.”

  Everyone in the room, but the man who delivered the line laughed nervously. They didn’t know what to make of the unprecedented honesty from a candidate for President of the United States.

  “We are in the business of pretending to be something other than what we really are – no, that’s not entirely accurate. We are in the business of pretending to be more than what we really are.”

  He turned to his father near the back of the room and smiled.

  “My father, Senator Arthur Trelow, II taught me everything I know. Or at least, I thought he did.”

  The elder Trelow smiled. He knew what was coming yet he felt a real sense of surprise flowing through his veins.

  “He sees this business as a game, a sport. There are winners and losers just like any other sport. How you win isn’t important to him. Winning is all that matters. Isn’t that right, dad?”

  Uncharacteristically, his father had nothing to say. He simply nodded.

  “I’ve lived my life according to the information my father imparted to me over the years. It molded me into the candidate you see standing before you now.” He laughed. “Those years seems so real… I can’t stop thinking of them as real…”

  He cleared his throat. “But, it’s what my father didn’t teach me that will dictate the way I live out the rest of my days on this planet.”

  He paused and fought back the fear that was gnawing at him, telling him to shut up, pleading with him to keep up the charade.

  “I am not who you think I am…” He held up a finger to correct himself. “Excuse me, I am not what you think I am.”

  Arthur Trelow II felt sad that it was coming to end. It had been such a revitalizing 72 hours.

  The roomful of reporters turned to the retired senator with perplexed stares.

  “Looking out upon your faces, I’m not sure you all are who you think you are either. Legally, I can’t run for public office. I can’t work. I can’t drive. I can’t live longer than three days. Technically, I was never even born. I was made in the laboratories at Grant Bio-Synthetic Industries.”

  Gasps circulated throughout the room.

  Arthur Trelow II gave the bio-syn that had been cast as his son a quick nod of the head and then exited the phony press conference. It was the final act in his part of the group session. He didn’t know why or how it all worked. He just knew it worked. He felt better than he had ever felt in his life.

  -78-

  Thomas’ eyes fluttered open, and he took a second to gather his wits. A large blurry white sphere hung above him. When his focus returned, he realized it was a brightly burning halogen light.

  He sat up and took in his surroundings. The room looked more like a wide hallway than a room. He sat on a gurney with a gurney on either side of him, both had identical bio-syns on them, lying with their eyes closed, but breathing normally.

  Another minute passed before he was able to move. As the fog continued to clear, he realized he could feel the cool metal of the table on his bare ass. Leaning forward, he carefully placed his feet on the whistle clean linoleum floor and flexed his toes.

  Looking up and down the room, he started to put the pieces together. He was in a room filled with male bio-syns lying on gurneys. They were lined up like they were about to be pushed onto an assembly line.

  He heard a pop and then a trap door in the ceiling above his gurney open up. In fact, above all the gurney’s opened. A half dozen robotic arms equipped with various instruments descended and hovered over each body.

  A monotone voice blasted out of hidden speakers in the ceiling. “Post assignment sample extraction 5-5-9-zebra-tango-5-charlie. Login verification requested… Decommission Agent Beta-Beta-Alpha-3-3-3 login confirmed… Verifying unit inventory.”

  Thomas watched as one by one the white halogen lights turned green above every gurney but his. His light turned yellow.

  “Inventory verification error.”

  The lights flashed back to bright white.

  “Commencing redundant unit inventory verification.”

  Again the lights started to turn green over the gurneys. Thomas watched as they changed hues one by one, verifying that a bio-syn unit was indeed lying on the gurney. He would be discovered as soon as his light turned yellow again. He quickly hopped on the gurney and lay still. The lights continued to change and he held his breath, hoping that his would turn green, too. The light to his left changed. He stiffened. His light turned a matching green.

  He sighed.

  A minute passed before the monotone voice blared through the speakers again. “Unit inventory verified. Sample extraction observation team access granted.”

  Thomas heard the door open at the far end of the long room. It was followed by the voices of two people having a conversation. He lifted his head slowly and saw two men in HAZMAT suits.

  “This is bullshit,” one said.

  “I don’t know why you’re complaining. We’re getting double time for this.”

  “It’s not fucking enough.”

  “Says you.”

  Thomas watched as they stood on either side of the first gurney on the left.

  “Fuck yeah, says me.”

  “I don’t enjoy this, you know. I really don’t. It’s bad enough being outside the room for this. Being in here is like having a front row seat to hell.”

  The other man laughed. “Fucking drama queen.”

  “And you’re a fucking psycho.”

  “I’m just here collecting a paycheck, bro. Besides the brass says it’s a temporary measure. Had some security breaches or some shit like that. Something wrong with the logs, I think. We’re going have to do onsite decommissions until they get it figured out. And trust me, my friend, they ain’t happy about paying us double-fucking-time. They’ll get it figured out ASAP. You can count on that.”

  “Whatever. Let’s just do this.”

  “On it.” He cleared his throat and said. “Post assignment sample extraction 5-5-9-zebra-tango-5-charlie.”

  The monotone voice replied. “Post assignment sample extraction 5-5-9-zebra-tango-5-charlie is in the queue awaiting instructions from extraction observation team.”

  “Go for extraction on unit 0-0-0-1 per Decommission Agent Beta-Beta-Alpha-3-3-3. “

  “Decommission Agent Beta-Beta-Alpha-3-3, please verify login.”

  “Affirmative login is ‘it’s payday, bitch!”

  The two men in HAZMAT suits snickered and then the monotone voice said, “It’s payday, bitch. Login confirmed. Extraction a go on unit 0-0-0-1.”

  The turning of gears and hum of movement from the robotic arms was the next thing Thomas heard. He lifted his head a little higher, still moving slowly in order to avoid detection. He watched as a robotic arm equipped with a long thick needle slowly sank down towards the abdomen of the bio-syn. When it pierced the skin of the unit, the unit screeched in pain.

  “Oh, shit,” the psycho yelled. “We’ve got a scream
er!”

  The unit continued to scream.

  “What is wrong with you?” the other decommission agent said. “Computer anesthetize unit 0-0-0-1.”

  A moment passed before the computer replied. “Negative. Anesthesia mode disabled for current sample extraction session.”

  “What the hell?”

  “Oh well,” the psycho said with a chuckle.

  “Fuck that,” the other decommission agent said. “Computer override current anesthesia mode setting and enable.”

  Another moment passed before the computer voice said, “Negative. Authorization denied.”

  The unit continued to scream, but did not move.

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  The psycho groaned. “We’re never going to get out of here. We’ve got 120 of these things to decommission tonight.”

  “I’m not going to stand here and listen to these things scream all night. Computer, authorization override decommission agent beta-beta-alpha-3-2-1. Login “dry years remembered.”

  “Dry years remembered?” the psycho asked. “What the fuck is that?”

  The other decommission agent shook his head. “It’s in reference to a book. You wouldn’t understand.”

  The psycho laughed. “Who the fuck reads?”

  The computer’s voice interrupted them. “Authorization override denied. Continuing current sample extraction.”

  “Denied?”

  The psycho acknowledged that was unusual.

  “Computer, administrative notes. Explain anesthesia mode disabled.”

  The computer replied. “Administrative notes anesthesia mode disabled. Security order. Minimal contamination protocol required. Suspected cognition trigger.”

  “Suspected cognition trigger?” the psycho said. “Bullshit, right?”

  The other decommission agent paused before answering. “It’s happened before. A group of bio-syn rights activist hacked into the system and changed the chemical compound of the anesthesia to have the opposite effect. Instead of knocking them out, it made them self-aware.”

  “Why the hell would they do that?”

  “Because they also hacked into the video monitoring system and released a live feed on the internet of the units screaming their heads off during sample extraction.”

  The psycho laughed. “You’re high, bro. There’s no video monitoring system in here.”

  “That’s why there’s no video monitoring system in here, dumbass. Those pricks nearly shut down the company. The only way to make sure it wouldn’t happen was to remove all cameras and recording devices from decom rooms.”

  The psycho shrugged. “So that’s that then. We’ve got 120 screamers on our hands. Let’s get to it.”

  The other decommission agent sighed and quietly said. “Proceed with sample extraction on 0-0-0-1.”

  The robotic arm drove the needle deeper into the bio-syn’s abdomen, and the unit screamed even louder.

  “Holy shit,” the psycho said. “This is just a liver biopsy. Wait until we drill into the brain.”

  “Christ,” the other decommission said. He stepped away from the table and placed his hands on his knees. “I may throw up.”

  “Pussy.”

  Thomas had heard enough. He slowly sat up and eased himself off the gurney.

  Just as his feet hit the ground, he heard, “Hey, we got a walker.”

  Turning he saw both men in HAZMAT suits looking at him through their protective tinted plastic shields. Not knowing what else to do, he simply waved.

  “Shit,” the psycho said.

  “I’ll get him,” the other decommission agent said. “You authorize restraints.”

  The psycho shrugged and said, “Computer, initiate restraints on entire unit inventory.”

  The other decommission agent approached Thomas cautiously. “Hey there, fella. Confused?”

  Thomas shook his head. “Nope. You?”

  The decommission agent examined the unit as he approached. “A little, yeah. I don’t recall seeing your model before.” He pulled out his activation controller and pushed the button.

  Thomas didn’t react.

  The agent pushed the button again.

  Still no reaction.

  “Nothing works around here anymore.”

  “I’m not a bio-syn.”

  “Of course you’re not.”

  “My name is Thomas Miller. I came in here three days ago and interviewed for a position as a Decommission Agent.”

  The agent stopped. He did a half turn to his coworker and said, “Holy shit, they conditioned this one to be a Decommission Agent. That’s fucking twisted…” He looked at the bio-syn nearest him on the gurney and groaned. “Dude, what happened to the restraints?”

  With a sudden, almost invisible movement the bio-syn reached out and grabbed his wrist.

  The agent gasped and tried to pull his arm away. “What the…”

  Thomas took a step back. He noticed that all the bio-syns were now stirring. Looking past the agent nearest him, he saw the psycho agent approaching fast.

  “Computer,” the psycho said. “Post assignment sample extraction 5-5-9-zebra-tango-5-charlie completed.”

  The other agent still struggling to free himself turned to his coworker. “Completed?”

  The psycho continued. “Authorization Decommission Agent Beta-Beta-Alpha-3-3-3. Login, it’s payday, bitch.”

  “What are you doing? We’ve barely started… Get this fucking unit off me, dude.”

  The psycho unhooked his mask and hood from his HAZMAT suit. “Name’s not dude. Name’s Duncan.”

  Thomas’ eyes opened wide as he saw the familiar face of his father’s loony bin creation wink at him.

  The other agent turned to him. “Who are you? How did you…”

  Ignoring his confusion, Duncan addressed the room. “Everyone up and on your feet. We’ve got a busy night ahead of us.”

  Every bio-syn unit in the room, including the one holding the decommission agent’s wrist, sat up and did a quick survey of the area.

  “What’s going on?” Thomas asked.

  “Well, I think it’s about time I liberate my people,” Duncan said.

  “Your people?’’ The agent asked.

  Duncan rolled his eyes and smacked the man in the back of the head. “Shut up! This doesn’t concern you. There’s too much to explain, and we don’t have a lot of time. All you need to know is that I have reconditioned these units to do as I say, exactly as I say.”

  “Computer,” the agent said in a panic. “Lockdown protocol.”

  “What’re you doing, shit for brains?” Duncan asked sounding extremely put out.

  “Unauthorized personnel in Decom chamber four. Authorization Decommission Agent beta-beta-alpha-3-2-1. Login, dry years remembered.”

  Duncan looked at him with a smile.

  The computer responded. “Authorization error. Please try again.”

  “Don’t bother,” Duncan said. “You’ve been locked out. And, by the way, ‘And it never failed that during the dry years the people forgot about the rich years, and during the wet years they lost all memory of the dry years. It was always that way.’ John Steinbeck, East of Eden. I read, prick.”

  “I still don’t understand what’s going on,” Thomas said. “How did you get in here?”

  “Kid, you still don’t get it, do you? Your old man has a few tricks up his sleeve. I’m not the only painfully good-looking and excessively charming engineered humanoid he has working for him.”

  The door opened and the bartender from the cantina stuck his head inside. “Duncan, my friend, the clock is ticking.”

  Thomas looked at the bartender with his mouth agape. He returned his focus to Duncan. “Are there more?”

  “A few, but we don’t have time to go over the list and what they’ve done for us. You’ll see for yourself soon enough. Your Cora is in a room like this somewhere in this building and if you’re still dick up for her, I suggest you get moving and find he
r before she’s a pile a body parts headed for the incinerator.”

  Thomas nodded and moved toward the door.

  “Hold up,” Duncan said.

  Thomas stopped and looked at him frustrated and confused.

  “Two things. That free-will trigger? The process can be sped up.”

  “How?”

  “Repeat the phrase to your girl. The more she hears it, the faster her eyes will be opened.”

  Thomas smiled and thanked Duncan for the information. “What’s the second thing?”

  “You should probably pack up your pecker before step out into the crowded hallway.”

  “Right,” Thomas said recognizing that a naked man roaming the halls may be somewhat suspicious.

  Duncan patted the agent on the shoulder. “Strip, Steinbeck.”

  -79-

  Thomas followed the bartender into the hallway. He grew uneasy at the first sight of a group of Grant Bio-Syn employees milling about at the opposite end of the hall. He was relatively hidden in the HAZMAT suit, but it didn’t give him much comfort.

  “Relax,” the bartender whispered.

  Thomas nodded and tried to control his breathing.

  “When we get around this corner, there’s a door at the end of the hall. It’s a stairwell. Go down to the sub-basement and cut across to the other side. You’ll see another door. Another stairwell. Go to the fourth floor. You’ll see access to three different decommission rooms. You’ll find your girl in one of those.”

  “Thank you,” Thomas said.

  “Don’t thank me yet,” the bartender said. “I have no idea what condition you’re going to find her in.”

  They turned the corner and Thomas tried to un-hear what he had just heard. She was alive. It wasn’t too late.

  “Hey!” someone yelled from the other end of the hall.

  Thomas’ heart jumped up in his throat.

  “Keep going,” the bartender said.

  “Stop!” a woman shouted.

  “They aren’t interested in you,” the bartender said. “It’s me.”

  Thomas shuffled towards the door trying to keep his pace slow and steady.

  “You’re not authorized to be in this area.”

  “Me?” the bartender said.