M Teleport A Short Story P1
The year is 2525, and not much has changed since 2500… flying cars are not really a thing yet… well not for us… Anymore… That’s more of a snoozer thing. They are getting too much. Honestly, it’s not about having an amazing time driving an open back Camaro to Newer New Jersey and back. They aren’t allowed to drive either but we can’t even get on the damn thing because one eccentric(and very cool) nos-nooser jumped off of one.
Because of one egg(cracked currently), now none of us gets flying cars, fast track at Disney Land, and real doctors.
…
Yes. Okay. Look. Just because one of us got the doc sick because we were sick?!! What did you want me do? Tell the doc I had covid-29? A professional should have known from my symptoms…
Now I can’t even see a real doc and have to get examined by these iron cold hands.
The Z-77b medical assistant paid no attention to my ramblings. It continued it’s checkup as usual despite the echoes that bounced around this white room. Plugged in from the center of the ceiling with it’s titanium bars it would have no difficulty examining and even carrying me.
The first time I got it to speak was when I tried climbing up to see what was up there.
”Get down” it said. I think it learned, now the bars have something icky and goey on them. You know I tried— the invisible coating wouldn’t come off even after using sanitizer from the hallway.
Now why is little old me getting examined by a Z-77b? As you have guessed, not my first time here. It’s probably because the b stands for best. And I am—
“No, it stands for bones Jonathan, and you still have 2 fractures on your right femur and one by your right tibia and they are as stubborn as you in not joining the call to knit and join the bone”
Ah, that’s me, but you are the best at getting my bones better right?
…
Right?
…
“If I were a real doctor I would advise you to stop doing your weird stunts and focus on healing” it said.
Now wait, no way me falling down while trying to climb up to see what’s up there is related to this injury. And I wouldn’t have fallen if you didn’t put the goo there.
“You climbing up to see my metal sticks and electric stones will break your bones. Also, I was mentioning your other stunt, it rhymes with dying jar” it said as it’s zoom lens eye mockingly turned round.
See, now you have a sense of humour. Unlike the big G.
…
The big G.O? You want me to spell it out for you?
…
You know what I mean, ever since we got the lithium-brains to decide what we do and how we live, life turned out for the worst…
At least that’s what my father said. Well it wasn’t his words but his father’s father’s father’s sister that actually said it. I just like to agree to things that are convenient to me.
Speaking of convenient, isn’t about time the snoozers and the nos-noozers were treated the same? Just because a snoozer parent got their snoozer kid to go through the 18 year snoozefest now they get qualified for better jobs?
I can also get mind blasted and watch 50 hours of forklift certification. I never done it, but I could!! I just don’t want the big G.O to play newpganda on the big screen for my itty little brain to get washed with. I’m exaggerating, I actually got a pretty-
“average brain” said Z-77b as it cut me off.
I thought the b stood for bones not brain.
“It doesn’t, but you are being a bone in my brain” it said as it swung from left to right
Even your lithium ion cells can tell that something’s gone wrong right? Even if the big G.O’s intentions are good, we aren’t meant to be controlled, lead and made to believe that we must be good for the sake of its existence.
I want to be good when I want to make someone look bad, not to make someone happy. When is it going to be my turn to shine? When will you let me climb up and let me see what’s beyond the panels of metal?
“You literally can’t, as you are bound to a wheelchair and are scheduled to recover in 5 weeks.” It said.
“Bwahh” I say as I roll toward the exit. Right before leaving I roll back slightly and look toward Z-77b but it was already powered off. Then I continued rolling onto the hallway.
The hospital is quite busy. Like a well optimized algorithm, the patients are coming and going quite efficiently. Maybe even too fast. Take the gentleman in the brown boots for example, he looks like he’s suffered similar trauma to mine. He rolls to the room two doors before mine. Maybe another enjoyer of heights like me… I’ll ask about it next time I see him.
At the end of the hallway I find a spiralling staircase to the left and the elevator right in-front of me. No way I’m taking the stairs. So now where is the button to call the elevator. I swear I’ve used these all my life, but for the life of me I can’t find the button with the arrow pointing down.
I do see two buttons in a similar place though. They are low enough that I can see them, but high enough that can’t reach and press the button. The imagery on the button looks like a circle with vertical floating lines above or below them. I’m guessing I got to press the one below to get down… but I can’t reach it. As I try to get up to press it I feel that my legs won’t budge, I think Z-77b tied me pretty tightly to the chair so I wouldn’t fall or try jumping again.
Okay, this should be a non-issue. I’ll just ask for help, I turn to the left and… great! Someone is walking towards me! This man in the khaki pants will definitely help me. Okay maybe I shouldn’t call people by their pants, let’s stick to shoes… umm wait… his shoes do look awfully familiar. THE BROWN BOOTS GUY IS OUT ALREADY?!
Either Z-77b is holding out on me or there is some serious bullshittery going on. (I’m writing that down, now we know what the b stands for.)
By the time I come to my senses the brown boots guy (gentleman pending) has already asked if I needed help with the teleporter.
And I say “Yes, I just need help pressing the button.”
Wait.
Teleporter?
Huh?
“Sorry did you just say teleporter? I’m pretty sure this was an elevator when I used it an hour ago.”
“No, this hospital has replaced their elevators with teleporters since the start of.. —FUCK I ALREADY USED IT GETTING UP HERE DIDN’T I, FUCK FUCK FUCK, AREN’T THESE THINGS SUPPOSED TO BE USED FOR CARGO ONLY?! DON’T THESE PEOPLE KNOW HOW TO LABEL THINGS? ELEVATORS ARE RELIABLE RIGHT WHY WOULD WE GET RID OF THEM? THIS REAKS OF UNFAIR G.O ASSESSMENT (THANKS FINAL DESTINATION 13)
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I initially wrote this in my head during the 4 hours of jet lag sleeplessness in bed. I had a different idea for how everything would go. But as I was writing this I spontaneously changed the fate of Jonathan. Even I don’t know what will happen to him yet… or do I ;)
I don’t usually write stories, but this was quite fun!