Ham and Cheese

Cam looked at the display screen and pondered the possibilities, before him, the choices seemed endless. Did he want the chicken, the beef? Was he interested in vegetarian option, or perhaps something in between? His stomach gurgled with impatience and he finally made his selection. Three buttons were held down at once in a parody of the three-finger salute of old.

To his surprise, the gears began to churn and a tiny animation on the view screen did a little dance of joy and ate a digital snack. It was not usual to see the machine so fully stocked. Normally he would need to go with his third choice every time but today seemed to be a good one. He smiled to himself as he reached down and plucked the plastic wrapped bundle from inside the machine and continued to work.              

               It was early Friday morning and Cam felt like he was in a good mood. The night’s sleep had been decent if not great, and he felt rested and happy. Now with this gift from the lunch gods, he felt like he was on top of the world. He walked with a skip in his step and smiled at anyone who would look at him.

Before long he found himself at the door to the under-ground bunker. He felt the usual feeling of dread wash over him, but he swallowed it down. Puzzled as he always was about that feeling. He liked his job. It was easy and relatively safe, yet every time he saw the imposing door that would lead down to his workstation, he would get the oddest feeling. Like this would be it, the last time he would see the sun, feel the air on his skin. He felt like if he walked through those doors, it would be it for him. He shook it off, just like he did every morning, and walked confidently through the doors.

               He was greeted by the security droid. A little rectangular bot with pincers for arms and a few gun nozzles cleverly hidden as part of the chase design. Cam smiled down at the little metal creature, adjusted the magnetic googly eye on the left and gave it a pat on the head.

               “Good morning, metal head” he said to it, affectionately. The robot made a few sounds, bumped into him on its rollers, a clear sign of approval, and then rolled off to do its robot business, patrolling, reporting, with a nap or two in between. Cam shook his head and continued towards his workstation.

               He walked down the long corridor, passing offices, equipment rooms, and science labs. He passed huge, strange, rooms that glowed in different colors depending on the experiment he guessed. One room housed a massive glass tube. Inside suspended in green slime hung the body of a creature so massive, he could have walked into its outstretched mouth. He shuddered a little as he passed by this room, a ghost of a feeling, a memory of a memory, then it was gone.

                Two more labs and then down the hall to the left, Cam let himself into his small, cramped office. He opened the little fridge and frowned. Inside was a thickly wrapped plastic package just like the one currently in his bag. Had he forgotten to eat lunch yesterday? He tried to think back, what had he had for lunch the day before? An image of himself in the cafeteria, eating the tuna, his third choice, popped into his head. Satisfied, he tossed the bag into the garbage can beneath the desk and was surprised when the sound did not match his expectations.

               When an object of plastic hits the walls and floor of a metal container, there is a certain kind of sound, yet it sounded more like a body hitting a body, he was about to reach for the garbage pail when a flashing light on his desk caught his attention. He picked up the wrist monitor off his desk, and without wondering why it wasn’t on his wrist already, he fastened it to his arm and checked the display.

               “Work assignment, Delta two Delta four. Please report to the observation deck of lab number 23. You have 4 minutes to comply.”

Cam groaned at the thought and quickly stowed his lunch. He wheeled the trolley from the tiny closet at the main door and proceeded down the hall to the supply closet. Once he was fully outfitted, he made his way to lab 23, 8 floors above and three turns of the hallway.

 His stomach gurgled nervously. Fear washed over him, some base instinct trying to warn him of something, and he wondered in a detached sort of way, what on earth he could be afraid of? He was only a janitor after all. He just cleaned up the messes. Cam swallowed down his fear and entered the room.

The room was large and imposing, at the center a pool of greenish viscous liquid lay seemingly harmless, but Cam had the feeling he could drown in it. Unease filled his veins turning his blood to a chill. Suddenly there was a tap on his shoulder and Cam nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Are you ready?” asked the smooth sultry voice of professor Locks. Cam took a deep steading breath and looked down at the woman.

“Yes sir” he said without a trace of irony. Everyone was sir to him, and he knew the professor couldn’t stand being called ‘Ma’am’. She smiled approvingly and led him to a control panel on the left.

She pointed to a spill that had managed to seep beneath the console and he would need to move it, to get at the stain. He set to work, concentrating on the task as if it were the only thing in the world that mattered. He worked so diligently that he didn’t even notice when the needle entered his neck.

So Cam,” began the professor as she adjusted the straps on Cam’s head brace. He was responsive, but not conscious and the professor smiled, encouraged.

“What do we have for lunch today?” It took a moment for the question to register, but when it did, she could actually see the progress of the thought process, written across his features. Eyes closed, he managed to mumble a slurred but understandable,

"Ham and cheese.” He replied, with effort. The professor sighed, disappointed, and hit the alarm.

               Soon a crew of people arrived, the real cleaners and took the body away. The professor made notes, adjusted chemical compounds, reset the experiment, and finally sat down before her video Journal and began to record her findings.

               “Subject 790695878 terminated on March 23, 2303." She checked her wrist display and added " at 10:52 AM. Compound 45603 was unsuccessful in our goal. We have been making progress but it’s the sandwich dilemma that I simply cannot work out. Given the choice, regardless of the outcome, this clone series will always choose the ham and cheese. Compound 45603 was designed to kill any desire for meat and yet no matter the chemical stimulation the subject continues to desire and given the opportunity, consume human flesh. It just won't do to have our slave force eating up our food source. We have tried substitutes, aversion therapy, reprogramming, but the zombie mind continues to crave human flesh. Its baffling,”

               She sighed as she kicked off her shoes and loosened the tie at her throat, she took off her human face and massaged the aching puce muscles beneath. It took a lot of effort to keep on the uniform even for short periods and she was delighted to be free of her disguise. She turned back to the camera as an idea struck her.

               “Perhaps we have been going about this the wrong way,” She considered, tapping a pen against her white, faintly glowing teeth.

               “With so few humans left, and so many zombies, what if we simply reversed the process? Instead of repurposing the zombies with base intelligence and a keenness for small tasks, perhaps we could reverse the zombification process entirely. Once reverted to humans, our work, and food sources would be replenished." She paused scratching at a spot near her left ear. 

         " If only humans weren't so difficult to grow, zombies we can clone by the dozens but humans, well that is another story isn't it? And humans are harder to control, it's true." She leaned back in her chair, swiveled it a few times before leaning into the camera with a sigh,

        "This pesky food dilemma is becoming tiresome. Tomorrow will begin with subject 790695879. Currently being hatched in the rookery in the east wing. Compound 45604 has already been injected.” She thought a moment and added “ the real question, is can we reverse the zombification on a clone of a zombie? If it had never been human, could we turn a zombie into one?” She scribbled a few more notes and gazed into the pool for a time, lost in thought. Soon it would be her own lunch time and she smiled at the prospect.  

The professor shut down the equipment, and when the room was quiet, she cocked her head and listened for a moment to the faint screams coming from the cells beneath her lab. A symphony of agony and pain. Her stomachs made their high-pitched keening sound and she considered for a moment that what she could really go for, was a Ham and cheese sandwich.