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Everything was grey, because it was cheaper for them to do so... even the sky. We filed through a gate. No one spoke. Words were superfluous. The chips took care of that. They knew our blood lines, all vital statistics and everything else of a physical or mechanistic nature. Lying was impossible. Thus a tired and worn populace, an urban herd, entered their place of domicile. Juveniles were kept elsewhere. Old specimens were recycled.
We were kept in vast halls. Each got a cot, a bowl, a spoon... Once a week they dosed us via enemas. They evaluated the data forwarded by the chips. Those with invalid equations were terminated. It was all bloodless. Circulatory systems ceased functioning. They had chips for that too. Everyone found lacking died simultaneously. It happened during roll call. The 'fortunate' trudged out to their daily tasks. The 'unfortunate' collapsed on the spot. I suppose dying was their task that day.
The bodies were collected, stripped of their rags and fed to The Chipper. There were a lot of chippers. There were a lot of bodies. The bone meal, or whatever it was, got sealed into big, black, thick gauge plastic sacks. They looked like bags of fertilizer. That's how we lived.
The Big People were like us. I couldn't see much difference. But they came from another place... another world.. another sun. A no nonsense race. No peace and brotherhood crap early on. They were here. They were powerful and just a bit more advanced than we were. First came the big sleeps. That's when they'chipped' everybody. Next came the divisions... males from females... parents from children... You can imagine the scenes. The trucks came. The trucks went. That was it. Older children promised to look after the tiny ones... God knows what happened to them.
And the whole world is like this.
They live in compounds... cozy, little towns with storybook houses. And they have dogs too. Some look like our dogs and some don't. But you can tell they're dogs. They have cat things too. The heads are like cats, but the bodies are like lemurs.
Sometimes they fly over subjugated zones in fast, silent helicopters. Come down pretty low too. They take pictures. Once I saw them clap and smile. Guess they clap and smile on their planet too. They grabbed a man with a big 'claw' thing, like in one of those arcade games. and flew away. He screamed and screamed. The claw didn't grab him right and one leg popped off at the knee. The guards tossed it in The Chipper.
There are stories that go around. Every once in a while they take a human, but they're not tortured and they're not killed. The Big People (who are basically the same size we are) call them 'Good Humans.' I think I saw one once, walking a two headed chihuahua and carrying all these glossy shopping bags. I know she was human, because I saw the little scars where they took her chips out... or maybe replaced them with different chips?
I want to be a 'Good Human.' I want to live in one of their residence compounds and see grass and children and fancy stuff.
I don't know what I'd be expected to do, or what I'd be expected to endure... but I'm ready. I don't care. I'm ready.
Yesterday for dusk-feed they gave us little piles of fingernails... not just the parings... not just that, but whole, complete nails... ripped right from the beds... blood, skin, meat and all.
How could I not be ready?
<more next time>..... <and we didn't forget Annie and Sarah and Sarah's strange grandpa either>
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
discover story arcs as yet unseen. click EXPLORE ...
join me on TWITTER. click TRADE LINKS AND IDEAS ...
please comment. thank you.
We were kept in vast halls. Each got a cot, a bowl, a spoon... Once a week they dosed us via enemas. They evaluated the data forwarded by the chips. Those with invalid equations were terminated. It was all bloodless. Circulatory systems ceased functioning. They had chips for that too. Everyone found lacking died simultaneously. It happened during roll call. The 'fortunate' trudged out to their daily tasks. The 'unfortunate' collapsed on the spot. I suppose dying was their task that day.
The bodies were collected, stripped of their rags and fed to The Chipper. There were a lot of chippers. There were a lot of bodies. The bone meal, or whatever it was, got sealed into big, black, thick gauge plastic sacks. They looked like bags of fertilizer. That's how we lived.
The Big People were like us. I couldn't see much difference. But they came from another place... another world.. another sun. A no nonsense race. No peace and brotherhood crap early on. They were here. They were powerful and just a bit more advanced than we were. First came the big sleeps. That's when they'chipped' everybody. Next came the divisions... males from females... parents from children... You can imagine the scenes. The trucks came. The trucks went. That was it. Older children promised to look after the tiny ones... God knows what happened to them.
And the whole world is like this.
They live in compounds... cozy, little towns with storybook houses. And they have dogs too. Some look like our dogs and some don't. But you can tell they're dogs. They have cat things too. The heads are like cats, but the bodies are like lemurs.
Sometimes they fly over subjugated zones in fast, silent helicopters. Come down pretty low too. They take pictures. Once I saw them clap and smile. Guess they clap and smile on their planet too. They grabbed a man with a big 'claw' thing, like in one of those arcade games. and flew away. He screamed and screamed. The claw didn't grab him right and one leg popped off at the knee. The guards tossed it in The Chipper.
There are stories that go around. Every once in a while they take a human, but they're not tortured and they're not killed. The Big People (who are basically the same size we are) call them 'Good Humans.' I think I saw one once, walking a two headed chihuahua and carrying all these glossy shopping bags. I know she was human, because I saw the little scars where they took her chips out... or maybe replaced them with different chips?
I want to be a 'Good Human.' I want to live in one of their residence compounds and see grass and children and fancy stuff.
I don't know what I'd be expected to do, or what I'd be expected to endure... but I'm ready. I don't care. I'm ready.
Yesterday for dusk-feed they gave us little piles of fingernails... not just the parings... not just that, but whole, complete nails... ripped right from the beds... blood, skin, meat and all.
How could I not be ready?
<more next time>..... <and we didn't forget Annie and Sarah and Sarah's strange grandpa either>
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
discover story arcs as yet unseen. click EXPLORE ...
join me on TWITTER. click TRADE LINKS AND IDEAS ...
please comment. thank you.
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