Electric Plague

I walked down 7^th avenue taking in the sunshine and fresh air. Mark was waiting for me on the corner of 45^th, quiet as usual. He was leaning on the hood of his busted-up Tesla Van and smoking a pack of Lucky Strike. He greeted me with a big smile as if happy to spend some time with anybody.

“Heya, Kiddo!” he said. “Want one?”

“Hey, Mark,” I said and shook my head. I wasn’t ready to give up the feeling of fresh air in my lungs. Maybe in a few years, but not yet.

“Okay, I’ll finish this one, and then we’ll get a move on. Ready for your first day?”

“Yeah… I guess. Ready as… “I coughed as I inhaled the smoke from Mark’s cigarette.

“Oh… Sorry, I’m not used to smoking with other people. I’ll move downwind from you.”

Still coughing, I managed out a thanks.

We stood there in quiet for the next few minutes while Mark finished up his cigarette. It was still weird not being inundated by a city’s hustle and bustle. I got snapped out of my daydreaming by Mark slamming the van’s door as he got in. I hurried up after him.

“Today, we have 8 bodies on our list. The first one is Angus Fold. He was a nuclear engineer and has been gone for two years. His user ID is 86664, and apparently, he calls himself Xanadu.” Mark smirked. ”Any questions?”

I pondered whether he thinks of me as just another body as well.

“Nope, no questions.”

“Good. Then we’ll go over the standard operating procedure, which means you’re going to walk us through it.”

“Yeah… okay. First, we’ll knock on the door to see if anyone answers. The most likely outcome is that no one does because otherwise, we wouldn’t be needed. So, we unlock the door by inputting the master code 133742. Then we locate our target. After that, we sweep the place to ensure we don’t get any surprises from other people, robots, or pets. This, again, is very improbable. Then we engage the subject. First, we inspect the rig to understand which model we’re dealing with and whether we can tranquilize the subject or not. If we can tranquilize them, we do that next to lessen the psychological damage of getting them back to the real world. After that, we jack them out while checking their vitals to see if they stay within norms. If the subject is not tranquilized, we explain the situation to them. Otherwise, we just pick them up and hook them to the IV at the back of the van. “

“Good, that’s about right,” said Mark.

We got out at a quaint picket-fenced one-bedroom house in the suburbs. Nature had taken rains in the yard, now resembling a meadow. Bugs and critters voiced their opinions as we waded through the shrubs to the front door.

“Take the lead, kiddo,” said Mark.

I nodded and knocked on the front door. The door opened, and a service robot greeted us.

“Hello! I am Rosie. The Master of this household is currently unavailable. Can you come back another time?”

“Hello! We are from New York City’s Vocational Reclamation Office. We are here to disengage Angus Fold,” I responded.

“That is not possible. Please come back later.”

“When could we return?”

“That is not known, but you’re welcome to try again every day. You can also leave your contact information: Master will contact you when he’s available.”

“What do we do?” I asked Mark.

“I’m used to dealing with these particular models: they are popular with rich people. Rosie just needs a bit of convincing.”

Mark pulled out a gun and shot Rosie.

I stepped back in shock.

“Don’t worry. I only overloaded its circuits. The overcurrent protection will protect it from damage, mostly. It will now do a full restart, which gives us about 30 minutes.”

I was still shocked as I watched the poor robot twitching on the ground. If I didn’t know any better, it would have seemed that the robot was in dire pain, as if a human was being tasered. It didn’t seem to bother Mark as he walked in and gestured me to follow, almost stepping on the robot. I hesitated for a moment but then entered the house.

The house inside was sparkling clean but otherwise unremarkable. Angus was easy to find, and the rest of the place was empty.

Even though Angus’s profile showed that he was only 35 years old, the two years hooked-up hadn’t been kind to him. He looked like a frail old man whose bones would snap like a twig if you were to squeeze a bit too hard during a handshake. The only thing he had going for him was the perfectly styled hair by Rosie.

“Okay, it seems we have a Mk-II here, which means we can’t tranquilize him. So, we must simply jack him out,” said Mark.

“Right, let me take out my laptop to start the shutdown sequence.”

To my surprise, Mark pulled the plug without a second thought and watched Angus squirm. It took me a second to understand what was happening. I tried to go and restrain Angus so he wouldn’t hurt himself, but Mark stopped me.

“Calm down; he’ll be fine – a bit of excitement to start his new life in the real world.”

Before I could say anything, Angus opened his eyes, gasped for air, and then his head fell to his chest. He was trying to mumble something, but I couldn’t understand anything. I leaned over to hear what he was saying, putting my ear near his mouth.

He bit me. I screamed and stepped back in pain.

“The fucker bit you,” Mark roared, “didn’t see that one coming.”

“I am Xanadu, god-emperor of the fifth realm. How dare you put your filthy hands on me,” said Angus in a gravelly voice.

Mark roared once more, took out a syringe, and stabbed Angus straight in the neck. Angus fell limp.

“Well… that’s a feisty one. Let me see your ear, kiddo.”

I rose up still in disbelief and turned my ear to Mark.

“Ooh… he got you pretty good. Let me take a picture – so you’ll have something to laugh about in a few years. Anyways, cuff him, and let’s get him to the van.”

I disconnected the feeding and excrement tubes, cuffed him, and scooped him up into my arms. He was still mumbling something about divine retribution when I put him in the back of the van and shut the doors.

“Is this what the job will be?” I asked.

“Pretty much… you weren’t exactly a walk-in-the-park job either,” laughed Mark.