The Reconditioning

The lab smelled of antiseptic and something sweet, something vaguely familiar, though he could never quite place it.

At this late hour, the Reconditioning Center was quiet, all procedures for the day done. Only a few technicians remained in the building, still tending to their routine tasks. Anton was alone in the room, and that was when he was most efficient. No distractions—just spotless steel, order, and precision.

Rows of vials sat neatly in a tube holder on the table, each labeled with a barcode and extraction date. No names. No histories. Just numbers.

His shift was almost over. He carefully stacked the last few vials into the transport case, making sure each one was secure. He’d done it a thousand times. Routine. Automatic. Open the cooler, deposit the vials—each in its designated spot—close the lid.

Why bother packing them so carefully if the vials were just going to be destroyed, he wondered, and instantly chased away the thought. He wasn’t here to ponder his instructions; he was here to do the job he had been assigned. After all, this whole process was the basis of the world’s stability. Even the motto above the entrance of the facility declared: “Clear Mind – Bright Future.”

He closed the lid of the case and rolled away from the table, pulling off his gloves. His fingers were sweaty from hours spent in nitrile. Another day done, he thought, but just as he was about to stand up and carry the case to the disposal department, something caught his eye—a glint of light on something hiding in the shadow of a tube stand. Frowning, he leaned closer and saw another vial, its iridescent liquid swirling slowly inside. He hadn’t noticed it before.

Where did this one come from? Had the tech from the previous shift just left it there? No matter now; it would just go into the cooler with the others, to the disposal site, and then probably be incinerated. With a sigh, he opened the cooler again and reached for the vial, but the tube holder was in the way.

His fingers slipped.

The vial tumbled from his grasp and rolled off the metal table. A sharp crack resonated in the tiled room. Anton froze, watching as the iridescent liquid spread across the pristine white tiles in a pool of light and color. The faintly sweet odor filled the room.

He cursed under his breath and grabbed an absorbent pad.

“Say hello to my first reprimand on the job…” he muttered, kneeling down and pressing the pad against the spill. The pad quickly soaked up the liquid, growing heavier and warmer than he expected… That was when he realized his mistake.

His ungloved hand.

“Oh, Calmness!” he breathed out. He needed to wash it off. Immediately. And then go through a full cleansing process… But before he could move, he felt something.

Warmth curled up his fingers, crawling along his arm, seeping into his chest, where it flared like an ember.

His heartbeat quickened. His vision blurred. His breath caught.

His senses were overwhelmed, filled with an echo of laughter, a scent of autumn leaves and honey, a sensation of someone’s fingers lacing through his as if they had always belonged that way…

The next moment, it was all gone.

He was still kneeling on the floor, his hand clenched, as if trying to hold on to something slipping away. The lab was silent, except for the soft hum of the refrigeration units lining the walls. The white walls and stainless-steel tables looked duller than ever. Everything was in its place, as if nothing had happened.

The cameras! Did anyone see this?

He looked down, rushing to finish cleaning up before his supervisor arrived, but the spill was already gone, the liquid completely absorbed by the pad. He stumbled to his feet, his heart still racing, and tossed the pad and the shattered tube into the hazardous materials bin.

His chest ached. He pressed his palm against it, trying to still his heartbeat. The sensation was foreign, something between longing and loss, something he could not name because he had never known it before. Or had he?

He couldn’t help replaying this experience in his head. Was it a vision? A feeling? A memory? Was this what they were taking away from people? How many vials like this one had already been drained from him?

“What’s going on here?”

Anton spun around. Dr. Levin was standing on the threshold, his sharp eyes scanning the lab.

“I was clumsy…” Anton replied, tucking his gloveless hands behind his back. “I dropped a vial, but it’s all taken care of. I cleaned it up. No contamination.” He tried to sound as calm as possible, hoping his flushed face wouldn’t give him away.

Dr. Levin was silent, looking around the lab, taking in the spotless tables and the discarded pad in the bin. Finally, he nodded.

“Alright. You’ve always been diligent, and it’s your first significant error. I won’t reprimand you this time, but be more careful in the future. And don’t forget to file an incident report before your shift ends.”

“Of course, Dr. Levin!”

The supervisor lingered a moment longer before turning on his heel and disappearing down the hall. The door hissed shut behind him.

Anton exhaled shakily and slumped back into his chair.

He sat before his terminal, found the correct form, and started typing the report: “A vial accidentally destroyed by a laboratory technician…”

His fingers hovered over the keyboard.

His gaze drifted to the open cooler, to the rows of vials neatly slotted inside. Each one was filled with the same substance now coursing through his veins, calling to something he didn’t even know he had lost.

Slowly, he backspaced to the beginning of the line and typed again: “Two vials accidentally destroyed by a laboratory technician during transfer. Samples were unrecoverable. Proper cleanup and disposal procedures were followed. No contamination.” He finished the report, pressed the submit button, and shut down the terminal.

Before leaving the lab, he bent down to close the cooler, making sure to block the camera with his body, then slipped his hand inside. His fingers firmly closed around one of the vials, and he tucked it into his coat pocket.

A few minutes later, Anton stepped out into the night.

A warm spring breeze carried the scent of melting snow, awakening earth, and city smog. He inhaled deeply. Had the air ever felt this bittersweet before?

He walked down the steps of the Reconditioning Center, a vial of love pressed warm against his skin.