Authors: Shawn Davis,Robert Moore
Rayne threw the bloody bandage into the nearby trashcan. He looked in the mirror and saw black smudges on his face.
Ash from the dragon’s lair
.
Bending over the sink, Rayne washed his hands and face as black soot flowed down the drain. Looking in the mirror again, he realized he resembled a typical operating room attendant.
Good. It’s time to try out my new disguise
.
Peter walked cautiously toward the operating room’s double doors. He opened one and stepped into a white-walled hallway with bright fluorescent lights in the ceiling. The corridor was very wide and resembled a modern hospital corridor. Peter tried to act as if he belonged in the area as he walked down the bright hallway. He attempted to minimize his limp as much as possible so as not to draw any attention to himself.
Rayne walked by numerous people wearing the same green scrubs. It looked like most of them were intent on important business. Two attendants wearing scrubs pushed a patient past him on a stretcher. He walked past a middle-aged, gray-haired man in a dark suit, who looked like a stereotypical doctor. Gazing far down the hallway, he felt a chill run down his spine as he spotted a bright gleam from the blue body armor of a Shock Trooper.
Peter tried to appear unconcerned as the Trooper approached him. The Trooper was talking to another person wearing green scrubs walking alongside him and he didn’t take any notice of Peter as he walked by.
I’m blending in just fine
.
No one has looked at me twice, even
with my slight limp
.
Rayne studied the underground environment as he walked. The halls were lined with doorways. Some of the rooms looked like typical hospital rooms with adjustable beds, eating tables, and visitors’ chairs. Some were occupied by patients and some were empty. Other rooms looked like offices.
Continuing ahead, Rayne passed many pedestrians wearing business suits or hospital scrubs. He soon approached a long, clear, shoulder-level window on his right. Looking through it, he saw a spacious laboratory with large tables. The tables contained computers, electronic equipment, and other laboratory paraphernalia such as test tubes, beakers, and mechanical gadgets. A virtual army of white-coated scientists were hard at work, measuring and analyzing unknown materials. Peter saw a short, bald scientist carrying a large, clear container filled with translucent green liquid.
Rayne left the laboratory behind and soon reached a four-way intersection. He paused to let some green-scrubbed attendants wheel a patient on a stretcher past him. His ankle was really starting to bother him. He hoped to find a place where he could stop and rest soon, but the hallway appeared to be endless.
Rayne thought he might finally be approaching the end of the tunnel when he saw a tall, arched doorway looming ahead. It appeared wide enough to allow eight people to walk through side-by side. Approaching the doorway, he noticed the ubiquitous wrist scanner on the wall to the right of the door. A sign above the door written in bold red letters read BODY BANK LEVEL 5- AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.
Body bank? What the hell does that mean?
Will my wrist code work in this area?
Rayne ran his hand across the scanner and breathed a sigh of relief as the door slid open. He wasn’t ready for the sight that met his eyes. He gazed upon a colossal chamber almost as large as the Breechlere warehouse.
Entering, he stared with fascination at the immense six-story chamber surrounded by four levels of catwalks. Looking up, he saw the ceiling was at least several hundred feet above him. The place appeared to be a hundred yards wide and the opposite end of the chamber looked to be a half-mile away.
Bright fluorescent lights gleamed from the polished surfaces of endless rows of large glass tubes lined up along each of the four catwalk levels. The floor was dominated by two long rows of twenty-foot high generators extending the length of the immense chamber. A wide walkway led down the middle between the generators. Sporadic groups of white-coated technicians traveled the walkway, checking various areas of the tall machines.
Peter tried to appear confident and act as if he belonged in the area. Passing the white-coated technicians, he found they were all busy checking various gauges and control panels. About two hundred feet down the walkway, the generator on the right opened to a narrow passageway. He ducked into the passage and followed it to the end until he reached a gray steel door with a wrist scanner next to it.
I might as well try it. I’ve come this far on the wrist code
.
Rayne ran his hand across the scanner and the door rushed open. He entered a moderate-sized room with computer terminals along the right and left walls. A lone gray metal door on the back wall was the only other entrance to the chamber. Each terminal had its own desk and chair.
How convenient
.
Peter sat down at the closest terminal and scanned the luminous green words on the computer screen; BODY BANK LEVEL 5, MAIN MENU- PLEASE CHOOSE FROM THE FOLLOWING OPTIONS: MATERIAL PROFILES, OPERATION OPTIONS. Rayne clicked on MATERIAL PROFILES. A long sequence of numbers appeared in five vertical columns on the screen. Each column listed one hundred numbers in chronological order, totaling 500.
I might as well start at the beginning
.
He clicked on the number one. A full-body photograph of a man filled the right side of the computer screen. A written report filled the left. The man looked to be in his early twenties and appeared to be in excellent physical shape. He had a moderate build and well-defined muscles.
Rayne read the words on the left side of the screen:
MATERIAL PROFILE #1;
SUBJECT 9582 DONALD BLAKE, 6’2”, 180 POUNDS, AGE 25
OUTSTANDING PHYSICAL CONDITION
SUBJECT CONVICTED OF BREAKING AND ENTERING PERSONAL RESIDENCE - MARCH 2054 - SENTENCED-FRUMP PENAL COLONY APRIL 2054-JANUARY 2058.
VOLUNTEERED FOR PROGRAM-JANUARY 2058
NO PREVIOUS SERIOUS MEDICAL CONDITIONS, NO FAMILY HISTORY OF HEART DISEASE OR CANCER,
ESTIMATED LIFE SPAN; NINETY YEARS.
MARKET VALUE; $22,000, 000.
FOR MORE DETAILED INFORMATION, CLICK ON MEDICAL HISTORY.
Rayne went to the bottom of the page and clicked on MEDICAL HISTORY. A doctor’s report for the patient, Donald Blake, filled the screen. The report contained a long list of diseases and then the words TESTED NEGATIVE beside each. Rayne scrolled down the report and found a detailed listing of Mr. Blake’s family history of illnesses and diseases. The list went all the way back to Blake’s great-grandfather. Rayne scrolled down to the end of the report and read HEALTH RATING; 99.8th PERCENTILE, PRICE: 22 MILLION U.S. DOLLARS. His mind spun with confusion.
What the hell is going on in this place? Why is a convicted criminal’s medical history listed in this computer? What does the dollar amount at the end mean? Had Blake volunteered for an experimental operation? Was 22 million dollars the price for it? How would a convict come up with that kind of money? Why would a convict need an experimental operation if his health was listed in the 99
th
percentile
?
Rayne had an endless list of questions, but no answers. He didn’t lack imagination, but he was having trouble putting all the facts together. Going back to the main menu, he checked the listing for #2. Again, there was a long list of health traits for a convict named Herman Wheeler, who was imprisoned for embezzlement in the Frump Penitentiary from 2052-2058. Mr. Wheeler was in the 99.4th health percentile and had a market price listing of 21.8 million dollars.
Rayne checked out number three on the main menu list, discovering a health list for another convicted criminal listed in the 98th health percentile with a market price of 21.2 million dollars. With these facts, he was finally starting to put it all together.
These people must be for sale
.
The first listing contained the individual with the
highest health rating and the corresponding highest market value price
.
Going down the list, the prices declined as the health ratings declined. Rayne congratulated himself on figuring out part of the mystery, but he still had plenty of questions.
Who are these people being sold to, and why?
A chill slowly crept up his spine, prickling up the short hairs on the back of his neck. His subconscious had already deciphered the mystery, but his conscious mind had yet to catch up.
Rayne clicked on the SEARCH icon. His trembling fingers typed some letters into the rectangular white space next to the icon. He typed slowly as if he was in a dream, KENNETH BAXTER. As he prepared to click ENTER, his finger hesitated above the button.
Surely, I’m wrong.
Peter clicked ENTER. His subconscious knew what was coming, but still the shock hit him like a battering ram. His entire body was enveloped in chills. On the right side of the screen was a full-body picture of his recent acquaintance, Ken Baxter. On the left side were the following words;
MATERIAL PROFILE #426
SUBJECT 10,420 KENNETH BAXTER, 5’11”, 165 POUNDS, AGE 34,
EXCELLENT PHYSICAL CONDITION
SALESMAN FOR ORIONTECH CORPORATION OCTOBER 2049-MAY 2058, MODEL CITIZEN, NO CRIMINAL RECORD, PATRIOTIC SUPPORTER OF PROGRAM
VOLUNTEERED FOR PROGRAM - MAY 2058
NO PREVIOUS SERIOUS MEDICAL CONDITIONS, NO FAMILY HISTORY OF HEART DISEASE OR CANCER
ESTIMATED LIFE SPAN; EIGHTY TWO YEARS
MARKET VALUE; $19,800,000
FOR MORE DETAILED INFORMATION, CLICK ON MEDICAL HISTORY.
Why bother clicking on MEDICAL HISTORY? I have all the information I need
.
The Body Bank is a massive storage facility for the bodies of “volunteers,” who will eventually be sold on the open market. With the prices so high, only the wealthiest people could afford them
.
Rayne imagined an elderly multi-millionaire scrolling through the computer files, searching for the perfect body. When he found it, all he had to do was come up with the cash. Somehow, this government had been able to perfect an unprecedented system of brain-transplantation from one body to another. A wealthy, elderly person could purchase the younger body of a convicted criminal in order to increase his or her life span. When the new body eventually wore out, he or she could purchase another. In effect, a multi-millionaire could purchase virtual immortality. Barring any unforeseen accidents, he/she could exist for centuries. It was the ultimate triumph of the rich over mortality.
But what about Baxter? This still doesn’t explain Baxter. All the listings in the Body Bank, which I’ve checked so far, consisted of convicted criminals. How does Baxter
fit in?
Rayne’s mind flashed back to his gruesome discovery in the sewers.
The decaying bodies in the sewers wore prison attire. The physical condition of most criminals is not ideal for a body transplantation program. Criminals are known for having a live-fast, die-young lifestyle. Most of them smoke, drink, and do illegal drugs. These negative activities wreak havoc on a person’s body over time. Only some criminals are suitable for the Body Bank program; rare specimens who are in healthy physical conditions; those people who don’t abuse their bodies. Those criminals who are unsuitable for “the program” are eliminated. After all, what good are they? Even if criminals work while they are in prison, there are high security costs to keep them there. The only way for the government to cut its losses is to eliminate those who are not physically fit. The remaining healthy criminals are then given a chance to contribute productively to society; a chance
they squandered during their earlier lives. These criminals are able to redeem themselves by extending the lives of the wealthiest, most important members of the community. In a sick way, it all made sense.
Rayne buried his face in his hands and tried to clear the terrible images of decomposing corpses in his mind.
There has to be another explanation. This is too outrageous. Surely, the government wouldn’t use peoples’ bodies like vampires; sucking the life out of them just to benefit the wealthiest in society? Even criminals have rights, don’t they?
But that still brought him back to Baxter.
Why would a productive, contributing member of society like Baxter be put into the Body Bank program
?
Rayne thought back to the corpses in the sewers.
Maybe the government has simply run out of healthy criminal bodies? Maybe the supply can’t keep up with the demand? Are there more elderly rich people demanding their chance at virtual immortality than there are bodies to satisfy them? If so, have they set up a system where they occasionally ensnare a middle class member of society to meet the demand of the nation’s wealthiest citizens? Maybe it is just simple supply and demand? The Medical History section of the computer had Baxter listed as “NO EXTENDED RELATIVES IN COUNTRY, FEW COMMUNITY TIES. Baxter was the perfect candidate for the Body Bank because he didn’t have any extended relatives who would be concerned about his disappearance. There were no relatives to lobby the police for an investigation.