"Body temperature elevated!" the SynthNurse pronounced, now also red-faced. Was there a hint of satisfaction in its tone? "Clearance denied. Please wait." There was a click in the door, as the cubicle locked. Winnie slipped out of the nurse's grip, and in a surge of panic, wielded the chair at it.
"Please do not be alarmed. The DOCS will see you now," the SynthNurse informed her, through a flat grin.
"You can't do that! You set me up, you pile of scrap!" screamed Winnie, whirling the chair round. She connected with a heavy thunk, knocking the SynthNurse onto its back.
"The DOCS will see you now," its voice repeated from its prone position.
The whole cubicle suddenly dropped through an opening in the floor, hydraulics smoothly whirring. The only light in the basement was the glow from the SynthNurse's bright red face. The partitions fell away, and Winnie peered anxiously around her.
"Welcome to the Special Care department, Citizen Smith. Please wait for the DOCS."
Winnie was shaken by trembling so strong that she collapsed back into the chair. "The DOCS (denial of care-service) are the unsung heroes of the WHS," explained a friendly, authoritative voice. "They're here to clean up the waste, the rejects, to keep waiting times acceptable for citizens with the right attitude."
A floating holographic box was projected in front of her.
'Please tick if you consent to physical recycling'. A scream of pain and terror hurtled of the darkness. Winnie forced herself up, backing away from the direction of the noise.
"Please wait for the DOCS! And thank you foryour trust in the WHS!" the SynthNurse called after the now fleeing CitizenSmith - pursued in the gloom by a swarm of buzzing, whirring, grinding metalimplements.
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
DOCS
ContoThe near future: thanks to the benevolence of the C. Corporation, all citizens are entitled to their monthly health clearance. Failure to show up is not an option - non-cleared citizens have no rights to employment or education - no involvement in s...
