The Button

A Chapter by Black Lagoon

The very first chapter of Eugenics that might not stay in it's place. Call it a test run...

1
The Button

It stood no chance.

Even before the verbal order was given, the assistant had her finger hovering insecurely over a simple, dull button on the flat desk filled with other commanding buttons, just like that particular one. A single, ridiculously pointless thought jolted through her consciousness. The button was all wrong. Not in a way it felt as she would press it, nor the way it did it's job. The job it did was more than efficient, more than once. It simply looked ridiculously blunt and uninteresting. Even more today than any other day, and it must have been the amount of times she got back to it and tapped down. Over and over again. If she was ought to say what a silly job for a silly amount of money she had without any consequences, she was certain that nobody would believe how that single stupid button made her job impossible to handle.

"Terminate and eject!"

Came from her left, and she jerked lightly at the sound of stiff and trained voice of her younger colleague. He returned no glare as he patiently waited for her to execute the order. The male, no older than twenty five, stared into the glass chamber that kept letting out even, gurgling sounds that came from the air bubbles released into the murky liquid around the specimen. She hesitated a moment longer as she wondered what kind of sick f**k would take a job like that and exceed in it without a second thought? Precisely the kind she was herself. Just a bit shorter, more fragile, and older female version of a Boogeyman, nobody would take seriously until it was on her to bring the judgment to them. Abruptly remembering she had a work to do, she laid her finger onto the grey button and just as the male sighed displeased, parting his narrow lips to repeat the order, she quickly pressed down, forcing him to shut up without saying a single word.

"Terminated."

She replied, loud and clear, just as she did many times before. The signal from the button rushed towards the chamber and the air vents closed, isolating the body that was fixated inside it. Once she would do so, there was no turning back. Her colleague silenced the alarm that was programmed to alert them of any unauthorized usage of the command board. It was as ridiculous as it sounded. In a well secured laboratory, there was only a selected few allowed to play gods anyway and none of them was willing to simply kill another living thing without a good reason. Not that she knew of. Whether it was simply playing by the rules or being a sensible human being. These days, she wouldn't dare betting on the second one.
Doing it for a certain period of time and getting used to it was the rule that never could have been applied to the termination stage. As the specimen inhaled the last portion of the smelly air stuck in the tubes, none of them spoke. Dull sounds of struggle, coming from the inside of the glass chamber, were loud enough for all of them to pay attention.
The agony prolonged well over a minute which, overall, was a rare happening. She was grateful for such small mercies. That faithful minute was all that any human being that ever stepped into the laboratory was able to stand and walk out with their mind clear enough to come back tomorrow, and it was just about the limit of the exposing time for them to believe they were heroes. Anything above that was a potential trigger for madness. She looked around the room over her glasses and studies faces drowned into a mild panic as soon as the timer went over a one minute mark and the specimen was still there, drowning. It was certain; their role of gods was below any given standard.

"Termination successful."

The young man sounded once more, this time more quiet, as the jumping EKG and EEG lines flattened into a single straight line and the struggle in the chamber came to stop. A minute and twenty seconds. The tension fell down as soon as the timer stopped adding seconds to count. Happening for the sixth time today made no difference whatsoever. The short and seemingly fragile lab assistant, brushed semi-grey hair that fell out of her messy bun off her face and hastily pushed the button before her hand would shake. The murky liquid drained away, revealing the naked female body that hung off the steel plate, with her eyes opened in terror, staring blankly into the ground. She couldn't have been more than twenty years old. Some of them quickly turned their glare elsewhere, whether because of the girl's nakedness, or because of those terrified dead eyes. It was something not even her younger colleague, trained and seemingly prepared for anything, was able to ignore. It was situations like those that divided their theory and her practice. Lack of reaction, triggered her trained response. "Doctor", she called out calmly.

He was still standing in front of the specimen in deep thoughts, with his face frowned and his arms crossed, when the senior assistant called out again. "What is it?", he replied in a way that made her wonder if he was even there to begin with. "Waiting for approval", she answered. The tall man in a clean and well ironed white coat, took a moment before he waved his hand vividly and replied. "Yes, yes. Take her down, Macy."
Her. The assistant thought. It seemed awfully harsh, but there was a good reason why none of them was ever allowed to refer to any specimen as a 'he' or a 'she'. They were things. Simple, useless, diseased things, until they had been cured and prepared to contribute the colony alive. There was only as much of lucky ones that would. She nodded and obeyed silently, ejecting the lifeless body. It would be disposed and burnt until there was only ashes with only a single purpose of feeding the plants. Macy hated thinking about how all of her food was partially made of dead, well tortured, plagued people. It was not something to bring up on a family dinner even though, sometimes, she simply felt the urge to do so. For her, cycle of life was not as disgusting.

"Ejection completed. Proceeding with decontamination."

The doctor stuffed hands back into his pockets and turned to face her with a confident, charming smile. "Wonderful. Thank you." Macy replied with a brief smirk and a shallow nod. It was a strange way to cope with stress, even though she was well aware by now that it was how Alexander Von Richter functioned. Sometimes, the smallest things would seem to hit his nerve, but more often, he would shrug it off and move on. She could imagine shamelessly how he might as well cut his wrists and whip his back when no one was looking. To her, the way he was, seemed impossible to be. As attractive and intelligent as he was, it was absurd to believe he hit the jackpot with the job he had. It all looked more like a disgusting joke played on the bright-eyed German. If we ever f**k up, blame it on Von German A*s here. They got used to gas people in the distant past anyway, so why the f**k not? That, or something similar had to come to mind when asked; how did it feel to take orders from 'trademarked' Aryan representative. She would simply reply that Von Richter, regardless of his cold, indifferent attitude, was as humane and moral as he could possibly be while doing, what she believed to be, the most ungrateful job the New-age Government could think of. However, she'd never hear him complain, not even once.
Alexander sighed once, partially with relief, partially of fatigue, as he looked around, at confused and somewhat upset faces he had witnesses so many times before, and it became annoying to the point where he felt he would loose his calmness. "Take five, everyone."

Five, and then they roleplay gods again. They press their tiny buttons and watch other human beings, that they are only allowed to refer to as 'it' or a 'specimen' or simply a number they were given, suffocating in gallons of murky liquid in the glass uterus, that supposed to give life, but more often offers death, surrounded by their own urine, feces, vomit, blood, or any other extraction that came out of those tortured creatures in their last moments of agony. The more she did it, the more she was certain that it was not helping at all. Maybe everyone else was just as aware that they are no better, regardless of their status. They were no heroes.

***

Macy quickly grabbed the paper off the desk, before the young female that offered it could change her mind. "You have a long way to go, Mrs. Davis. And a lot to offer. Are you sure you want to do this?" Macy offered her a calm smile on a tired face. The young female was of those born Aryans. Like that, she would most certainly enjoy all the privileges the Western Colony had to offer. She was clueless, she was empty, and even though she was a well taught and capable executive, she couldn't possibly understand why the five minute break like that was the best time to throw in the towel. If she was ought to ask for it directly, Von Richter would never let her go as she was his only senior assistant. "Miss...Fisher", Macy spoke calmly after she looked down at the golden plate that stood in front of the executive, just to make sure she got her last name right. She leaned closer , her hazel eyes staring into the female. "Do you happen to have any kids?". Miss Fisher cleared her throat and tangled her long pale fingers together as she replied insecurely. "I do not see how is that relevant or any of your business, but no. No I do not."

"Ah." Macy nodded and smiled somewhat daringly. "Then I do assume you are in a row to have one, or you wouldn't be where you are at this point. Maybe your egg is waiting in line as we speak."
The young female gulped lightly, visibly uncomfortable, but it did nothing to force Macy to bite her tongue. "Now, no need to be embarrassed. There is nothing wrong in being a baby machine and having everything you need for every new youngster you provide that you do not even know about. You are either a machine, or this." The fourty-year-old small woman pointed at herself. "A bunch of s**t, stuffed into a small apartment and a small amount of money, with Aryan privilege only on a piece of paper. Just because your Cradle of Life is broken." She paused briefly, lowering her voice. If for twenty years she was not upset about more sever things, she was not ought to get stressed over such pointless conversation. Leaning back into the chair, Macy grabbed the pen and leaned it over the spot for signature on the resignation paper she received. "But then it isn't remotely enough, so you get a job that would make you feel like even bigger piece of s**t, so you never forget what you did to anger the Slave Lords." She quickly signed onto the empty spot. "But no more for this old girl. I did my time." She took out a folded piece of paper and pushed it along with the resignation towards miss Fisher. "Give this to doctor Von Richter."

The female frowned and gave Macy a somewhat scolding look. What happened to respecting your elders? Macy wondered somewhat cynically. "I hope you do realize that you were supposed to have a conversation with your supervisor before you file your resignation." Macy nodded and got up. "Oh I did. There is only a small detail there I need him to know. That is all." She lied. Alexander had no clue, which was soon to be changed. "Have a nice day and, I hope you have a good life." Macy greeted the female and walked out before she could be spoken to again. Miss Fisher waited for doors to close completely, before she grabbed the folded paper, mumbling out. "Disrespectful old c**t." She began to read nicely arranged cursive letters.

***

As she got ready for bed, Macy calculated how long would it take for them to realize that she is no longer a contributing citizen, but merely an old burden that needs to be removed. It shouldn't be long. Maybe even tomorrow. Hopefully tomorrow. She always hoped she would get cremated. Rotting away before it would simply be such a waste. Imagining her body decomposing was terrifying. She had hoped they would hurry. As she released pills one by one down her throat, she felt at ease. They were sweet and soon enough she didn't even need a water to keep them going. One of those had a really strong sedating effect really quickly. A dozen of those should do the job. Getting back to her routine, she turned off the lights and laid in her bed, pulling her covers up, until she felt secure and comfortable.

The lights between the barriers were brighter than ever and yet they were soothing and comforting. It wasn't all too bad after all. They had a good run while it lasted. Now, she was more than willing to offer her spot to another Aryan. Hopefully the one that would use their predetermined privilege the right way. As she stared into the ceiling, The lifeless body of the female came back to her mind. It stood no chance. She stood no chance. The plague couldn't give less s**t about your hidden potential.

As she drifted into sleep, she was secretly hoping that, the morning they find her, rigor mortis would have her hands cramped in one final middle finger gesture as a farewell. Wouldn't that be a wonderful way to walk out? The faces of all those that stood no chance followed her into the darkness of her mind and she began to feel like a murder without a weapon, but with hands drenched in blood,throwing in the towel. And then, it occurred to her, for the last time...

The god damn button should have been red.