AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (3) Soap Machine (Short Stories) - [2,187 words] Taste My Blood (Songs) Feel free to dedicate this to all your ex and future girlfriends! [94 words] You’Re My Everlasting Drug (Songs) For real! [96 words]
Gardens Alexander Petrov
The gardens
The big truck stopped in front of the clinic without turning off the engine. Four armed men were guarding until others unloading the ‘consignment’ inside. They were delivering it to the next group and that was the end of their duty. But that was only the half way for this cargo – from the very beginning to… the end.
-- 3-12! The cargo is supplied, we’re going home. – this was followed by crackling noise on the radio and some answer. That put an end of another work day for this group.
-- Six hours on the road! That ain’t a job. I’m jaded. I haven’t slept for 24 hours, haven’t eaten since yesterday, haven’t taken a shower since… I don’t remember since when, and tomorrow morning I’m on duty again. You know it wasn’t so before – it was easy – no problems, no rebellions, no worries, just transporting meat (laugh).
Calm level voice said:
-- Shut up! Your lousy cynicism is teasing me. We’re all tired and you’re talking all the time, just shut your mouth! You’re playing with my nerves!
-- Just… ah… hey, you know what? Fuck you! And the money is not good for this. To shit my pants every day watching for freaks with guns. It ain’t gonna happen. Hear me?!
Once again the calm voice said:
-- Take it easy. Go home, take a rest. Tomorrow will be as good as new. Don’t rush yourself. Take it easy and don’t blow our heads off, OK?!
The empty truck was going home and the ‘cargo’ was now somebody else’s care.
* * *
For a while the cloning industry was dead but now continued with full power. The problem was coming from the fact that the cloned had consciousness, intelligence and feelings. For short time they managed to create some troubles to the authorities – escaping, rebellions, but the measures were taken and they were hard and raw. (Cattle). They all were slaughtered and the whole ‘lot’ considered for defective was quickly replaced. This reflected on the market, the prices suddenly jumped and confusion took over. Even the ‘business’ became mostly part of the mobsters’ and little gangsters’ actions. They started trading with real people selling them in the Far East and for the rich guys in Europe and USA. Now the meaning of ‘slaves’ was different – ‘born’ organs. Well, not as good as the cloned ones, not so precise and made by order but still good enough, and in this crisis, fall of the selling and total lost of merchandise were fine replacement. Only the best chosen for the rich and worst – for the others, like always – got money, going to live longer and better, don’t have… well, going to die with worn out organs from bad donors. Of course the richer have always had saved for them individuals specially grown for them – the best possibly.
Still there were some people missing from time to time and became donors somewhere in the world although the black market was dieing. Now the cloned ones were under control and the official market had its positions back.
* * *
-- We’re again defenseless and with no arms and weapons against humans, again we’re targets, and they have a lot of us and won’t save us for any reason - just kill us and that’s all. We have to put up with this – we’re created to die and be sold in parts.
-- Will fight and die… but at least we’ll chose our own death, own way to go.
-- Shut up! We’re game and that’s it. We can only hide. Soon or later they will find us. Have you ever heard some of us passed away by natural death? I haven’t!
-- Humans…
-- Hey!!! ‘Humans’?! Why you call them this way?! What are we? Subjects? Aren’t we humans? Even better than them?! What they have better than us? Organization and
numbers, that’s it! – they’re more, much more than us and that’s what they have in advantage.
-- We’re merchandise, animals for sale, cattle for food. Just accept it. Why… why we ran away at first place? At least we could die in peace, calm, painless, and now… how I got myself in this?! What do we need senses and mind for, why couldn’t they eliminate them? We could be now pieces of meat with no memories or feelings but no… How long is calculated the medium life of ours to be long, cloning life? – 120 years. And how many of us lived longer than 25? – three of us! The first three who spent their life in glass aquariums under observation. In the name of science. The science whose fruit we are, we and the clinics for organ cultivation – the modern slaughterhouses.
* * *
Big demolition stopped the conversation and s.w.a.t. team went inside the basement where they were hiding. Almost everyone was killed. Only one survived – B12 – series 206 – number 2016. He by some miracle survived – wounded with legs broken in many pieces and missing arm. But he was still valuable – with inner organs still good for sell – that made him valuable – 300 000 at least. Rebel or no rebel he was in the lists officially as property of a clinic and had a price even damaged. Although he survived by chance (They all must die) was still ‘garden for organs’.
* * *
Two months later, after difficult recovery, he was living in a clinic under doctor’s treatment who were nice to him and taking good care of his health. Of course he knew what was coming for him in the nearest future (Garden for organs).
It was wonderful summer day outside, sun was shining happily and the green grass seemed like a sea swung by the light wind and so fresh that even shone like a glass in the sun shine. Trees looked like aureoles and the sky was blue and without a single cloud. Clinic’s yard was beautiful place; the cloned ones were leaving the world with this view in their minds. There they all were living as free persons although everyone knew what was coming.
That was only one of the clinics around the world. There were a lot worst places looking like catacombs or canalization tunnels where the treatment was like in concentration camp or slaughterhouse – cloned ones were in small rooms and cells, feed with artificial foods often left with no clothes or shoes absolutely naked. But there they were producing organs for poor countries and people.
* * *
The crippled rebel was ‘enjoining’ the nature waiting to be called, because he was now recovered (even though crippled) and again put in the lists of market. Somebody brought him a newspaper and he was reading to kill time and distract his thoughts away from the main. At the first page read: The negotiations between Middle East countries went in culminating point. At last peace and non-violence are main leading elements of our civilization… on second and third page there was articles about the national holyday and big color pictures of jolly celebrating people. On fourth in the criminal chronicle there was headline: Rebel clones blowing up bridge and below continuing: new lot of 200 individuals set on the market for North America. And on last page in CURIOSITY article it was written: New more painless and humane way for mortifying in the organ clinics is discovered.
There were steps along the corridor which stopped in front of his door. Someone knocked…
It was beautiful summer day outside…
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