He breathed behind the face mask. It made washers of his glasses, so he had to put them down to see from the mask. He was ready to puke but kept it down.
"Lordy Lordy, has the Dr. on duty seen this." he asked the nurse, also in a biomed suit.
She was in looking everywhere but at the sceen.
"No Sir."
She managed to stay back away from the contaminated area.
"Better get him..."
"Right Sir, I think he has headed into the Hospital."
"Not that there is much to tell....."
He bent down to get the tag from what he imainged was the left side of, well, the being. It was all just puss and shit. There was nothing left of a person.
"Swanson, Jeff. BD 09-16-07."
Lets see, that would make him 42.
"Anyone come to see him?"
"No Sir, not sence the orderly came in around 1:16 AM."
Not that he could see his watch, he looked around the room, now it is 4:56 AM. What the hell happen to him.
From his suitcase he removed a Pic-List, and set it up. And backed away from it.
"Yo! Pic!"
The Pic-List did and about turn and faced him.
"Yes Sir."
"Get a shoot on the subject here : Swanson, Jeff."
The Pic-List turned and turned and said.
"Is 'Swanson, Jeff ' here?"
"Over here Pic, this bunch of goo."
To Sir With Love
13 years ago
1 comment:
Estaban stared at the empty shot glass in front of him on the bar, and it stared back. It had been eight earth years since he had crashed here on Shear, and things were slowly winding down. Whatever bizarre force that had sliced the asteroid in half however long ago had left half of the life-support funtioning.....but a half isn't a whole, so the whole thing just couldn't keep going, despite the heroic efforts of the multiple redundant repair systems. The Down Lounge was about the last place still up and running....and it was running out. Atomic Taco could still make a string beef taquito, but it could no longer manage to fake the cilantro. A shot of cheap gin is easy to fake.....and for some reason, the bar-food program could still do deep fried calamari....tells you something about the quality of the calimari on Shear, doesn't it? The holographic bartender flickered sickly, running on half power....."Another, sir?" Estaban stared at the shot glass, and nodded for one more. Outside the meager bar windows, the stars pressed ever closer, as the atmosphere slowly bled away.....
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