We spend our life
looking upward.
We measure our childrens’
growth by their height.
From abodes closer
and closer to the sky.
We talk them into believing that
life’s a mountain, to be climbed.
Many are left behind. Someone
else climbs over them.
But very few notice. Very few
question. As above, not so below.
- Subject: located.
- Bioparameters: transmitted.
- Scene: configuring.Officer: unauthorized presence in
deployment area. A “Synth” shaman.
Recovery Mission: top priority.
Presence: trivial. We proceed.
“I walk through
minefields”
Then you’ve
got a more exciting
job, buddy.
- Sewer pipes: open.
- Pods: engaged.
- Eightballs: in position.
Recovery Team:
in position.
Start in 5.
Level “A” cell: alert!
Many, many bodies.
Massive “Eightball”
presence!
I’d rather be
on disability.
Bye-bye…
daddy…
That blast!
But where…
Slowpoke!
There are bodies
to go! Bolt!
Hup hup
hup
And you, Ted...
what the fuck have
you done?!?
Data removal?
They’re erasing
something!
Well it won’t be lost
from everywhere.
What is it
now...?!
. . .C seven,
got it!
And now,
the hardware!
Fucking hellhole.
You destroyed my family,
my life!
A contribution
for Utopolis’
pets?
“Citycleaning”
office, please.
Do you have an
appointment?
No.
And what is
your business…?
My husband
is dead.
I am so sorry.
Do you have an
appointment?
My husband is
dead and his computer
comes to life for no
apparent reason…
I’m not
from Utopolis.
Not anymore.
…you’re erasing
any trace… I have
a right to know…!
Security.
Your business is
concluded.