Windigo Soul (4 page)

A sharp rap on the door broke the moment and Peg held her breath as she stared at the door. “Now who could that be?” She looked though the peephole and saw the fish-eyed view of Sam Dobertson, the building super. A young couple stood behind him. Peg opened the door a crack and couldn’t help notice Dobertson had his keys at the ready, willing to enter had she not been home.

“Afternoon, Sister Reed,” he grinned. “Wasn’t sure if you’d be home or not. You never returned my call.”

“Oh.” Peg looked over her shoulder at the wall phone. “No, I guess I haven’t checked my messages for a couple of days.”

Dobertson glanced down at his tablet. “Well, I’d offer to come back later, but my phone has been ringing off the hook about your place. If you wouldn’t mind? Shouldn’t take more than twenty minutes or so.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Peg looked at the young couple behind Dobertson. “Twenty minutes for what?”

“To show the apartment. These folks were the first to call.”

“We’ve been living with my parents ever since we got married,” the girl said. “If our marriage is going to survive we need to get the heck out of there.”

The three people in the hallway laughed but Peg didn’t join in. “Oh. My apartment won’t…won’t be available until September. I didn’t realize you would be showing it so soon, Brother.”

Sara stepped up behind Peg. “What’s going on, Mom?”

“Uh,” Dobertson looked down at his tablet again as if it had all the answers. “Brother Reed did retire today, didn’t he?”

Peg nodded.

“And you live here alone?” He glanced at Sara.

“Until September. When I retire.”

Dobertson turned to the couple. “Would you folks mind giving us a second, please?” He turned back to Peg as they walked down the hall, and lowered his voice. “This apartment building is zoned class C. That’s a family of two, minimum. Legally, you’re not allowed to live here anymore now that your husband has retired.”

“What?” Sara snapped. “That’s ridiculous. My parents have lived here for over twenty years and you expect her to move out with only a few months left?”

“Why am I hearing about this now, Brother?” Peg asked. “My husband would’ve said something if he’d known about this.”

“It’s clearly stated on your housing contract, Sister Reed. I just assumed you’d be prepared.”

“A contract that’s so old it’s on paper. I’m not even sure where it is. I haven’t looked at that in years. ”

Dobertson glanced down the hall at his prospective new tenants. “Look, you know how bogged down the system can get. I could probably hold off on filing the residency changes, but I’m trying to run a business, here. The housing market has changed a lot since you and your husband moved in.”

“Changed as in how much rent you can get.”

“Well, it’s ah…considerably more. And I simply can’t afford a loss over the next four months when I literally have dozens of calls about this place.”

“When is she required to move out?” Sara asked.

“Technically, it would be seven days after the minimum number of tenants hasn’t been met.”

Sara put her arm around her mother. “Then you’ll get it in seven days along with your precious rent increase. In the meantime, Brother, this is still a private home for the next week. You can show it to people then.” Sara slammed the door in Dobertson’s face.

“Sara, I…” Peg started.

“That settles it, Mom. You’re moving in with me and John. I know you can’t afford a penny more in rent so there’s no choice in the matter.”

Peg opened her mouth but closed it again. She nodded and gave Sara a little smile. “I  know you’ve always offered, but I didn’t want to be a bother. I never got the impression John was very open to the idea.”

“Nonsense, he’ll be happy to have you.” Sara walked back over to the kitchen counter and picked up the bottle of booze. “What do you say we finish this thing off?”

“I think that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

Chapter 5

The room was empty except for the cot he was lying on and a chair in the corner. A light fixture directly above him filled the room with a harsh fluorescent brightness that hurt his eyes and head. He blinked a few times, frowning at his surroundings, looking at everything and understanding nothing.

Hank slowly sat up and looked down at the hospital gown he was still wearing. Despite the headache and his tongue tasting like a dirty sock, he was very much alive and well. His eyes fell to his arm and the small bruise at the injection site.

There must have been some sort of mistake. What went wrong? Did he get some sort of last minute pardon? Maybe they resuscitated him at the last second. But for what? Nobody had ever been pardoned. Except for a rumored handful of nameless elite politicians and party members, nobody ever made it past sixty years old.

Before Hank could think of any more plausible explanations, the door suddenly opened and a man entered. He was grinning from ear to ear. “Morning, sunshine,” he practically shouted. “Mind if I take a seat?”

He wore a plain khaki work shirt with matching pants over his shorter than average frame. He sat in the chair, the bright light reflecting off his shiny bald head as he settled in. He let out an exaggerated groan and sat back.

He was the oldest man Hank had ever laid eyes on. “How…”

“Ah! Hold it right there,” the man interrupted. “I know exactly what you’re about to ask me. You want to know how old I am, right?”

Hank nodded.

The man let out a loud hacking laugh that transformed into an uncontrollable cough. He finally composed himself and wiped his eyes. “You know, there hasn’t been one young fella like yourself who didn’t ask me that very same question. First words out yer mouth, every time.”

He got up from the chair with some effort and held out his bony right hand. “Sam Mazanghetti is the name. Most folks ‘round here just call me Maz for short. And you’re Henry, right?”

Hank shook his hand. “Most folks call me Hank, Brother.”

“You can cool it with that
brother
business, Hank. We’re pretty casual in here. Leave it to the folks out in the real world for that kind of fancy talk.” Maz laughed at his own joke in the same hacking manner and sat back down in the chair. “Now. To answer your question, I’m eighty-three years old. Twenty-three years ago I sat right there just like you and some other crazy old coot came in to talk to me. Just like I’m doing now.”

Hank closed his eyes and shook his head, instantly regretting it as the room spun. “I don’t understand. I’m supposed to be dead, aren’t I? Where am I?” His eyes widened. “I am still alive, right?”

Maz chuckled and rubbed his hands together. “Very much alive, my friend. It’s not too bad in here, but it sure as hell ain’t heaven.” Another hacking laugh before his face grew somber. “Now just bear with me, Hank. It’s my job to bring you up to speed, and that’s what I aim to do.”

Maz pulled out a small device that looked like a remote control from the pocket of his shirt along with a pair of thick glasses. He studied the device before finally pressing the button he was searching for. A flat panel display slowly lowered from the ceiling on the other side of the room.

“They’ve got this video they want you to watch.” Maz glanced at the monitor. “Always seemed a bit much for me, but I guess they want to get their money’s worth. You ready?”

Hank nodded as the monitor stopped and the display lit up. Maz squinted at the remote some more and pushed another button. A short musical introduction, much too loud, blasted from the speakers as the United Federation of Nations logo spun across the screen. A very attractive young woman walked into the frame and smiled.

Welcome to your new life as an associate in the Federal Department of Human Resources. Congratulations! You were handpicked for service and should consider yourself very lucky. Only about one out of one thousand retirees are recruited.

We understand this is all very confusing for you right now. This video will be your guide and answer your questions, preparing you for your training as a human resources technician.

At this point, you may be thinking that you’ve never heard of the Federal Department of Human Resources. Not to worry. No civilian has. It’s a highly classified organization under direct control of the Department of Retirement. In order to understand what the FDHR does, we need to go back a little and explain why it was created in the first place.

The video cut to scenes of urban decay, the effects of pollution, and overall depressing images of world’s state of affairs. The woman continued her narration in the background.

As you know, our planet is plagued with problems the United Federation of Nations inherited before bringing peace and order to world many years ago. Vast overpopulation, shortages of food and water, depleted natural resources, and strained energy production, just to name a few.

Overpopulation continues to top the list as the number one issue we face today despite efforts put in place generations ago by the State. The Reproductive Restrictions Act, or “the one baby law,” as it is often called, helped to slow the birth rate substantially.

As the Earth’s natural resources continued to dwindle, it became clear years ago a more aggressive approach to managing the population was necessary. That’s when the State started focusing on the other end of the life cycle. Each year, billions of dollars, medical care, housing, food, and other resources were once dedicated to the elderly, causing a great strain on the State.

After a fierce debate in the Federal senate, the Mandatory Retirement Act was passed despite overwhelming public opposition. Today, retirement is regarded as a normal stage of life. It is widely accepted by citizens of the State as a perfectly natural and reasonable response to eliminate the negative aspects of aging and its effect on society. This didn’t happen overnight. In the early days of the law, violent protests often broke out at retirement processing centers and many retirees had to be arrested and processed by force. It would take decades of endless propaganda and shifts in societal norms to reach where we are today.

Thanks to retirement and careful restrictions on births, overpopulation is within our reach of becoming manageable. Experts agree that in twenty years or less, the population of Earth will fall to that of the late twentieth century.

The attractive woman came back on the screen, standing next to a young boy with blond hair and blue eyes. She placed her hand on his shoulder and he smiled at her.

You may be thinking, ‘that’s great news, right?’ Well, it’s a step in the right direction. Unfortunately, kids like Billy here, face a very fragile and uncertain future due to our lack of natural resources. Contrary to what you may have heard, fossil fuels are expected to be completely depleted in less than ten years. Conservation and recycling have done little to combat the problem and research for new viable sources of energy such as wind and solar have produced few positive results.

The scene changed again. The woman and Billy were replaced by a photograph of a man in a lab coat. The narration continued.

Just when it looked like the situation was hopeless, a scientist by the name of Arthur Freeland presented a theory to the Federal senate involving using retired citizens as a resource to produce energy. He suggested the bodies of retirees could be used as a valuable raw material instead of simply being cremated after death.

A sound clip from Freeland played as the camera slowly panned across his photograph.

“The human body produces over 75,000 BTUs of heat. When this body heat is collected in a very controlled, efficient, and precise environment, we can bring five gallons of water to a boil in just a few minutes from one person. If we multiply this by hundreds of retirees, all working together at once, the energy produced to run a traditional steam turbine equals or exceeds that of any fossil-fuel fired power plant.”

Maz pushed a button on the remote and paused the video. “It goes on for a while yet, explains the process more, but I think you get the gist of it. And I think the look on your face tells me you’ve had enough.”

“What does he mean, body heat? People still die when they reach sixty, right? How can a corpse produce heat?”

“Well,” Maz scratched the top of his head. “That is true. When folks come into the plant, they’re kept alive for a while. When they enter a processing center, just like you did yesterday, they aren’t killed by lethal injection. Just knocked out using a barbiturate. A medically induced coma.

“After they get here, but before they get put into one of the pods, they get an electrical shock to the head. Just enough to fry the brain and that’s when the life support system in the pod kicks in. The retiree is technically brain dead, but the machines keep all the bodily systems chugging. Lungs, heart, the works. In the meantime, the pod collects the body heat.”

“What pods?” Hank asked.

“Oh that’s right,” Maz waved his hand at the video screen. “Forgot I stopped it before that point. They put the retirees in these pods that do all the work. Rumor has it they were modified from the old space program when that was still around. Life support pods astronauts would go to sleep in for long space flights.”

“So that’s where I am,” Hank said. “In a power plant?”

“Yup.” Maz stood from his chair and pushed a button to retract the monitor back into the ceiling. “Hank, the State gambled on you because they figured you weren’t ready to die just yet. They put their money on you because they think you’d rather work in a place like this than end up like the people you’ll soon see. Remember that psych evaluation you took a couple of months ago?”

“They were sizing me up. And what if I refuse?”

Maz sighed. “Well, I’ve seen it a few times over the years. Let’s just say there’s only one option when that happens.”

Hank stared at the floor in a daze, not sure how to process what he just learned. “I can’t believe it. How long has this been going on?”