RandomWriter Posted November 12, 2016 Posted November 12, 2016 (I thought this up. Feel free to critique/ask me to remove your character from it, etc/whatever) Centcom, Bobby Dickens thought, as he awoke, eyes moving around, was as boring as ever. Sure, there was a bar, a probable library, and many, many other amenities, some of which he hung around in. Though to be honest, it had lost its luster sometime ago. Probably around the...twenty-fifth time I woke up here, with no explanation? Dickens thought to himself, as he looked around his poorly decorated room. Were any of his colleagues around, they'd likely, hopefully jokingly criticize his room. But, they were either off having fun at this hour, or they were asleep, awaiting the next shift in cryo. Dickens would probably join them, after he tilted his head around the room, looking for changes. Things in the room that he hadn't remembered putting there, things that indicated that yes, he'd just been put back into a round. He didn't have to wait long, as he discovered a cold, iron mug, next to a few postcards. Invites for weddings, invites for funerals... Bobby simply sighed. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Nanotrasen was big, it was vast, and yet, it kept its employees close to home. Medical institutes had marveled at cloning technologies, though eventually, after several legal battles refraining to not having kids, or not doing a crime, cloning had been restrained to happening only after death, at which point ethical groups gave a sigh of relief. Eventually, one of the Centcom Reps hired to monitor Paradise Station had the perfect idea. Instead of hiring many employees and going through them over the years, just keep cloning them. Dead? Cloned. Tried another job? Scanned, then later cloned. Retired? Monitor until death, then clone. Simple. It never occurred to them how one might feel if they were aware they were in 'the loop', as Dickens called it. Or maybe they just hadn't cared. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sometimes, Dickens thought, as he donned his red suit for the day, nodding to Peppy, as the feminine IPC passed, off to the 'disco mobile', he was given a job he wasn't expecting. For instance, today he was a Security Officer, all because of something he'd done in a past shift, though he'd never remember it. Dream about, maybe. But remember? Nope. He continued to think about it, until Don Barret, HOS for the shift, gave them his usual "one screwup and you're out" speech. He simply shrugged, and got to work, as he would until one of the black armored figures infiltrating the station through the PermaBrig, cut him down, as he attempted to flee to the armory, bullets passing into his back. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Some days, Bobby thought, as he stood in the dark, power failures everywhere, including the office of the Research Director, where he stood, were harder than others. But, if he made it through, they scanned him, and he remembered it later. So, as he walked down the hallway, following one of the Dionea that worked under him, he kept his eyes open, only to freeze, as the tall, imposing tree turned, looking at him. "Would you like a hug?" He asked, as Bobby's train of thought derailed. Out of all the things he had been expecting to hear, he hadn't been expecting that. However, before he could object, he was already being hugged, as the massive tree gave the equivalent of a smile, before letting go, and continuing to be utterly cheery, despite the power being out. Bobby made it to the shuttle, that day. He made it, got scanned, and as he left, tried not to punch one of the naysayers demanding they recall the shuttle. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sometimes, Bobby dreamed. He dreamed of dark tunnels and pale men with sharp teeth, of robed individuals facing a man in a suit of crusaders armor, of shuttle rides going crazy...It never ended. Once, he dreamed of home. The Tau Ceti system, though nowhere near as good looking as the others, being on the rim of human controlled space, was magnificent. Five planets, even though only one had been simple to colonize. His family had been lucky, and so had he. But, it had been several years, decades, likely, since he had been scanned. Today, he realized, as he looked at one of the cards, his mother would have been 125. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Occasionally, thought the old man in an engineering hardsuit, as he nodded to the old vox, Katiki, he believed, and headed back to work, he got to retire. At least, that's what the logs had told him. Long ago, he had dared to ask Centcom, believing they'd do something, anything. Shockingly, they relented, and gave him access to the data on him. Or rather, the hims that had already worked under their employment. Some retired, some died, leading to 'the loop', and some resigned. Occasionally, they flirted, they joked, they cried, they lived. So why couldn't he just get over it? Bobby asked himself, as Katiki said something in his native language, trying to fix the tangled mess that was the damaged solar. Ignorance, he thought, as he noted himself floating away from the solars, slowly, already too far away to reconnect, was bliss. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Centcom, Bobby Dickens thought, as he awoke, eyes moving around, was as boring as ever. Sure, there was a bar, a probable library, and many, many other amenities, some of which he hung around in. Though to be honest, it had lost its luster sometime ago. Fin. (I may add more to this hodgepodge later.) 1 Link to comment https://www.paradisestation.org/forum/topic/8698-cloning-blues/ Share on other sites More sharing options...
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