Ring of Death

                  

The usual chime signifying the evening shift change woke me from a dead sleep. I instinctivly threw the plain grey covers off my cot and sat up. I felt out of breath and not rested in the least. I sat with my legs dangling over the edge of the simple bed, taking a few laboured breaths. My lungs felt heavy, almost clotted with something. I hopped down, my feet making contact with the cold steel floor. I only had five more minutes to get ready for my shift. No time for a shower.

I turned to spread the covers back over my cot, when I noticed a dark spot in the dead center of my limp mattress. The light in my room was still dimmed, and so I couldn't quite make out what it was. I leaned in to search for a smell that would help to identify the substance. I had never wetted the bed in my life, as far as I could tell. I wasn't convinced that it was urine.

With my head hovering over the spot on the mattress, I made a few short sniffs, and then allowed myself a deep inhale. All I could pick up was the faint scent of petroleum. It was a familiar smell. But not one that I should have found my bed. I thought at that moment, that some of the stuff must have somehow gotten on me during my last shift. That was the only reasonable explanation I could come up with.

I yanked off the sheets, and threw them down a nearby laundry chute in the corner of my tiny ship quarters. I only had two minutes left before my shift started. I pulled on a navy blue jumpsit, forgetting to put on socks before reaching for my black leather work boots. When I reached down and pulled the first heavy steel-toe boot toward my foot, I could smell it again; the faint odor of petroleum. It was more like motor oil, actually. The smell had a quick effect on my memory. During nearly every shift I got a brief smell of the oily odor at the end of the fertilization process. It was the last part of every work day. Remove the dark fluid from the cool chamber, inject a measured amount into the SIMU-womb you had been working with, and then call it a night. The smell would come through vents in the machinery for a quick burst just before you shut things down for the day.

But I had never smelled it like this before. The odor from my boot was stronger, more pungent than the vents. It smelled like my boot was soaked in oil. I only had one minute left to make it to my station before I was reported late. I tried to forget the smell and yanked my boots on as quickly as I could. As I ran out of my quarters and stopped to switch off the overhead lights in my room, I almost missed the trail of black, shiny footprints that led from my cot to where I stood as I suited up. Thats when I suspected the source of the smell in my boots.

I made a mad dash for my workstation and narrowly made it there in time. I thought I was going to pass out. The room was spinning, and my breathing still hadn't improved. I found myself to be covered in a thick coating of sweat. So, naturally I wiped my brow with the back of my hand. I noticed that the oily smell had returned. I checked the skin on the back of my hand, and saw a dark grey, glistening jelly. I knew that this wasn't any ordinary sweat. 

Before I had time to panic, a voice calmly chimed in over the loudspeaker.

"Good evening, employee ADAM44. You were almost late for your shift. Is everything OK?" I shrugged and wiped my hand off onto my rough canvas jumpsuit. "Yes," I replied to the voice that sounded neither human nor computer. "I just slept in a little bit. Nothing to worry about." I waited a short moment, but the voice didn't reply, so I got to work. My station was one of the nicer ones in the facility, mostly because of the fantastic view of the planet we were now orbiting. It was a colorful gas giant. Its surface was all golden and purple with swirling storms and long streaks that stretched around it latitudinally.

It also had a ring. Not unlike the pictures of Saturn that I've seen. But there was something different about this planet's ring. Something ominous. From where I was situated--it was hard to tell exactly--but the ring appeared to be made of bones. The thought seemed completely absurd, so I did my best to put it out of my mind as I logged into my SIMU-womb terminal. The screen flickered to life, and I keyed in my user ID and password. Time to get to work.

A short while after, the voice on the loudspeaker chimed in yet again. "Good evening employee ADAM44. How are you feeling?" I snapped my attention away from my work and looked up to the speaker. "Yes. I'm fine, thank you for asking," I said and returned my attention to my terminal. It spoke again. "You're still sweating," the calm, mechanical voice observed. "You may be ill." I shook my head and raised my hand to my forehead again. The voice was right. The thick grey film still covered most my my skin. The smell of oil was overpowering. How did I not notice this before?

I began to feel light headed again. My knees felt weak, and were beginning to buckle. My breathing was still heavy. What was going on? I couldn't tell. 

I braced myself on the workstation, and peered out the window toward the planet. My vision was blurry and dimming, but it appeared as if our obit had closed in on the planet. I could now see the ring more clearly. Despite my failing eyes, I could clearly make out a human skull as it drifted by. My stomach turned.

Whether it was what I had just saw, or if it was just the horrible way I felt, I couldn't tell. But at that moment, I collapsed and vomited on the floor of my workstation. The substance itself wasn't like any vomit I had seen before. A puddle of black, oily jelly lay on the floor in front of me. I regained my composure, and hauled myself back up to my feet. I looked again to the planet outside. We seemed even closer to the ringed giant now. I pushed myself off the terminal and stood upright. As I paused for a breath, I swore I could see something being launched from the ship. A small speck of something hurtled toward the planet, that then eventually slowed to join the massive flat plain of death that ringed the gas giant. Just then the voice chimed in again. "Please, employee ADAM44, finalize the fertilization process for your SIMU-womb, and then report to the sickbay for examination."

I was in no condition to argue, and so I completed my work by removing the measured amount of mystery fluid from cooler chamber, and injected into the womb. I was hit with the usual blast of petroleum-scented air, but it was hard to discern the odor from the smell that had already filled the room. I logged off my terminal and stumbled down the main corridor toward the sickbay. I stepped heavily, and braced myself on whatever wall or bulkhead would support me. My hand reached out for something, but slipped. The thick film of grey ooze had covered my hands now. My boots squished beneath my feet.

As I trudged toward my destination, I passed by several other workstations. I had never actually seen this part of the ship before. The only places I ever traveled to were my workstation and my quarters--almost instinctively. I never desired to see any other part of the ship.

I saw other employees hard at work, hunched over their workstations. But then another spell of dizziness came over me, and I stumbled to my knees. I looked upward as I tried to regain my mobility, and I saw a puzzling sign. It read: ADAM SECTOR. That was my name, I knew this was my work sector. But why was my name in the hallway? Before I had the chance to think about it, my vision began to blacken and fade. 

Before my sight was gone entirely, saw another employee turn in his chair and look in my direction. His face seemed awfully familiar.

When I awoke, I was strapped down on some kind of slab. I tried to move, but I was too weak to even budge. My whole body seemed to be covered now in the smelly grey jelly. There was a group of white-dressed men standing around me. Their mouths were covered with paper surgical masks. All were around the same height and stature. Just then, one of them spoke in a voice that I knew as my own. "I'm sorry 44, but your genetic material has begun to expire. You're service period has come to an end. We thank you for your assistance in fertilizing your assigned SIMU-womb." The rest of the men standing around the slab now removed their paper masks, and revealed their faces. All me.

I was waiting for the dream to end, but it was no use. This was real. There was no way off of this slab. I tried once more to break free, but it was too late. One of the ADAMs reached up and slapped a large button with his palm. The powerful, deafening blast of air surrounded me and crushed what was left of my decomposing body. 

As I hurtled silently closer and closer to the planet, I imagined the other ADAMs staring out the large window as yet another speck launched from the ship, and joined the ring of death that circled the beautiful gas giant below.

Author's Note

As always, all criticisms welcome. If you notice any grammatical issues, or you think it's crap, or if you actually like it, please let me know in the comments. And be sure to check out my other submissions, too!

Reviews

[Nusquam Esse]

Only issue that popped out to me was 'has expired' just a small typo. This is a great story, very enigmatic and darkly creative. I am a bit perplexed how people would manage to decompose to actual bones when cast out into space; but that is not really relative. Good work here.

[Andrew Leister-Frazier]

I'm addicted to your writings. These are terrific, I have no problem getting into them. This one reminds me of the movie "Moon" kind of.

[F.R. Eileen]

I really enjoyed reading this one- especially because it gives a really foreboding air from almost the first sentence. Do all the ADAMS keep consciously processing their environments for a short time after they are ejected, or was that just sort of a writing device?

[crystalandra]

Wow--this was a fantastic story! You really have an incredible handle on writing awesome descriptions. I enjoyed reading this and in a way it reminded me of the movie, "Moon" where the main character, Sam was an engineered clone created to mine minerals from the Moon. He had no idea he was a clone until his body began breaking down. Great work.

[Gedalya]

This reminds me of Stanislaw Len. I like how even though the plot is linear, and one knows from the beginning that things are going to go from bad to worse that the story still has a few surprises up its sleeve. Plus, it never hurts to have a good milieu. I like this story, I'm sure I'll have to analyze the story further to look for secrets embedded. A few grammatical errors but eh, the story was too good. By the way, your style didn't get in the way and first person narrative seems natural. Almost, Lovecraftian. Everything seems plausible, I honestly can't think of many faults.

[Spoon]

:O

My mouth is literally hanging open.

What I love about this is the foreboding realization of what is coming. You cleverly separate the reader and the character's experiences, where I, as the reader, had an inkling of an idea of what was happening, yet the idea was so absurd that there was no way the character could accept it, or even comprehend it. The only thing left to do (for both me and the character) is wait for the truth to be revealed, one drop at a time. And your language is, as always, perfectly tuned to the scene and the environment.

Perhaps you haven't considered this, but I am leaving this story with the perhaps even more morbid realization that the doctor Adams know their own impending decay, where as 44 is unaware of his limited lifespan. Do they dispose of themselves in the same way? Do they ever feel like resisting such an end? DO they feel bad or guilty?

[Martin Weston]

This is interesting. I felt like I was reading a script for "The Twilight Zone." You have a good imagination! Did you have any issues writing it in first person? How would it change if you wrote it in second or third person?
Peace,
Martin

[PsyFi Chick]

Definitely NOT crap! Very well written, intriguing plot. I would love to see this expanded.