Familiar face in a strange place

He had a thought.  He didn’t know if he had ever had a thought before, but he was sure he was having one now.  He opened his eyes as he was being pulled off of a conveyor belt.  Memories, thoughts and visions came pouring into his mind. He was delirious as two strangers in white lab suits put him on another table with wheels.  The table started to move and his blurred vision started to fade as he saw white ceiling tiles and fluorescent lights zipping by above him.  

 

The drug induced dam had been broken and now confusion was flooding into his brain.  What is this? Why am I here?….who am i? he wondered.  An antiseptic scent, mixed with factory grease, filled his nose.  He remembered the color yellow.  

 

As he was being wheeled down the hallway he saw a photo of a man hanging on the wall.  The man has a face that he had seen before, how he know this was a mystery to him.  Underneath the portrait was a quote:  “I believe in the work being done here.  See the forest for the trees, always.” Patrick Chambers, Original Donor. Prototype 1. 

 

The two men pushing the cart started to speak.  

 

“Did she say anything else about Quality standards at the meeting?” the man on the left asked nervously.  

 

“All we were told is that management wants to see our defect numbers go down.  I got the impression that our Standards will be changing soon, but she never said that directly” the other man responded.

 

“So business as usual then?” 

 

“Basically.  My guess is that everything will be micromanaged until an official decision is made” 

 

They wheeled the man on the cart into what his newfound memory told him was an examination room.  

 

A woman was standing in the corner of the room, looking at a chart.  A lanyard hung around her neck with a card reading “Dr. Susan Leck, Ph.D. - Sr. Product Engineer"

 

“Morning guys” she said, not looking up from the chart.  “Generation 3 regrind, I see.  Appendage abnormality?”  

 

“Right here” said the nervous man, pointing to the man on the cart’s left hand.  

 

“Six.  Happens from time to time when you get past the 2nd generation” said Dr. Leck.  

 

“That’s exactly what we said.  I mean, this isn’t the type of thing we should have to check with you first on, right?” the other man asked.  

 

“Things are a little tense higher up on the chain-o-command right now.  Play it safe for the next week or so and run things by me.  Even if it’s minor.” 

 

“If you say so.” 

 

“Thanks. And transport is here right now, so you can take this one through exit processing and be done with it.”  

 

“Will do.” 

 

They wheeled the cart out of the room and headed back down the antiseptic smelling hallway.  

 

“I’m not messing with exit processing.  We can mess with the paperwork later, we’re already behind enough” 

 

“Alright, it’s on you then.  Stamp it, dose it, and I’ll take it to the truck.”  

 

The man on the right pulled a flat device with a handle from his lab coat.  He pressed it to the man on the cart’s left forearm.  When he pulled it away his arm read “GENERATION 3.  DEFECT.  DESTINATION - MATERIALS"

 

Then he pulled out a syringe and the man on the cart felt an intense fear for the first time.  As the man lying on the cart watched the syringe puncture his skin and empty it’s contents into his arm he remembered what it meant to die.  This is my death, and I’m afraid he thought as his world went black.

 

Reviews

[Naomi Ferris-Rynkiewic..]

That poor guy on the cart :( Just because he, from what I'm reading, has a sixth finger on his left hand.

Great story. Keep up the good work; looking forward to the rest :)