The Fate of Shin-Osaka – Chapter 10

I have access to the Inochi freezing documentation, so I find a chair on the opposite side of the room and sit down to read up as fast as possible. I already know the detachment protocol because that’s what I’ll need to get my body out of here, but I skipped the information about the initial freezing process.

Freezing appears to be a straightforward procedure. The body will arrive prepped, drained of body fluids, and pumped full of a plasma solution. The morgue also wraps it in a bioplast material that protects the body. All I have to do is bring it to the cryo-freeze room, load it into a coffin, hook up the IV port to the machine inside, close it, and start the process. Hell, if it’s that easy, I’m sure the intern could have done it.

“I’m all studied up,” I say, alighting from the chair. “I can do this.”

“Are you sure? I have an alternate identity I can use, and I’m close by.”

“No. I’ll be fine. Thanks for offering.”

Rin’s quiet again as I proceed to the wallpanel near the rows of frozen bodies. There must be at least two to three hundred people here, so I can’t search for my body by sight alone. Besides, they labeled none of the coffins on the outside except for a numerical designation.

Opening the catalog database, I search for my fake identity (certainly couldn’t put me in here under my real name). I’m in row four, section six, and just to make things easy, a chime rings to indicate the location. That’s a neat feature.

As I approach the coffin, it lights up and displays my information on the attached screen. Checking the stats, everything is in order. There are no issues with the coffin, and my body is intact. I lay my hand on my stomach and remember the drone footage of me bleeding out on the pavement after Gen had stabbed me. Rin held my body and cried, and I faded away in his arms. The memory is so vivid from Saki’s point of view. The anguish on Rin’s face, the slope of my neck laid back, and the rain soaking us are forever burned into my consciousness. I remove my hand from my stomach, place it on the coffin, and close my eyes. According to what Rin and Kazuo told me, I died hours later in this hospital, just a few floors above.

“Everything okay?” Rin asks.

I switch back to text, afraid of revealing the pain in my voice. “Everything’s fine. Yumi’s body is here, and it looks okay.”

I push down the emotions and return to the task at hand. The ‘unlock’ button blinks, so I press it, and the coffin ejects slowly from its space. A gurney sits at the end of the row, so I wheel it into position next to the stack. The system lowers the coffin onto the gurney, the arms retract, and the space is now empty. Checking the readouts, everything is fine, and the battery should last five hours. I push the gurney to the nearest wall, sit down, and wait. Turning off everything but my clock, I close my eyes. Hopefully, this conserves battery power.

When it’s nine forty, I check my charge, and it’s at seventy-four percent. Hmmm, that’s over a twenty percent loss since I got up this morning.

“We’re coming up on the arrival of the dead body. You should make your way to the UPN drop area.”

“Just a second. I should prep the coffin.”

I access the catalog system, find an empty coffin, and register it to the new arrival. It chimes and lights up just like the others. I take another gurney to it, and when the system sets it down, the side opens all the way to make it easy to slide a body in. Okay. That makes sense. I quickly glance at the freezing documentation again. Inochi does this with two employees — one at the head and the other at the feet. Well, that’s not happening. But I have android strength, so I should be fine. I leave the coffin where it is and return to the UPN drop.

When I open the door, I’m greeted by a steady cold wind, a flashing red light, and a warning klaxon.

“Can you help us?” The woman who rolled her eyes at her workmate earlier is waving me to the large UPN drop door.

I take in the situation in an instant, and my stomach drops. The incoming dead person’s container is stuck in the UPN drop door.

“It came up crooked!” she shouts over the warning klaxons. “And another container turned up behind it and wedged it in.” She strains against the container, pushing her shoulder into it while her workmate pulls from the other direction. “Usually security comes down and helps when this happens, but they aren’t responding.”

I pause for a second, hoping Rin can fill me in about security, but he’s silent.

“What’s going on?”

No answer. Okay. Whatever it is, he’s looking into it.

“Let me in,” I say, motioning her out of the way. I press the side of my face up against the container and look toward the back. Yeah, another container is pushing up from underneath. “If I stand up on the edge of the door, I can push down the other container, and you two can release this one.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know. That sounds dangerous. You could lose a leg.”

“I’ll be careful,” I assure her. “And besides, we’re in a hospital. If something happens, just rush me upstairs.” Of course, this is a horrible idea, but I don’t think it’ll be a problem.

Yumi Minamoto — former journalist, currently full of herself. I try not to laugh at my inflated ego.

I hop onto the edge of the UPN window and hold on to the top lip, ensuring my fingers are out of the way. The icy wind of the UPN rushes past me, and I shiver. Adjusting my internal temperature is a good idea right now, so I increase the heat. I’m glad I wore pants and flats today instead of a skirt.

“Okay, I’m going to push it down with my foot, and you’ll unstick the container. Ready?”

They both get their hands on the container. “Ready.”

Pushing down on the bottom container, I use my android leg strength to its full potential. It resists, bobbing in the force currents from whatever propels the UPN, but with steady pressure, I can keep it down.

“Can you move it?” My question is mostly a series of grunts.

I shift to the side as far as I can to allow them to push and pull the dead man’s container. The box groans and cracks before it comes flying out at the young woman. She’s knocked down on her butt, and the container drops to the floor next to her. She yanks her legs away just in time. If she had been any slower, it would have crushed them.

The crack we heard was the container’s top, and now the wrapped face of a dead man peeks through the broken box.

“So much for privacy,” the other man mumbles.

“Help?” I whisper. My leg shakes as my energy begins to wane.

I have unparalleled android strength, but it doesn’t last forever. Everything I do depletes my battery reserve, and the more I work, the faster it goes. My energy reserves are now down to sixty-two percent, and I started the day in the nineties. That’s no good. I have no idea when I’ll be able to recharge.

Both employees rush forward and help me ease the next container up so it can be removed. We all step back and heave relieved sighs.

“See? We fixed that all on our own.” I turn and raise a hand for a high-five. The woman laughs, and her hand meets mine. The man turns to high-five me too, but the floor rumbles, a loud boom shakes the containers stored along the wall, and the lights go out.

“What was that?” he asks.

Red emergency lights blink on, and we tip our heads up to look at the ceiling.

“Why do I have a feeling I’m going to be working a lot of overtime today?” the woman asks her voice heavy with exhaustion.

“Rin?” I try not to appear worried as I lean down and inspect the man I’m supposed to get into deep freeze. As far as I can tell, he seems to be undamaged and still secure. Only the container top is broken.

“Rin?”

Still no answer.

I could tap into the hospital’s network or the local news and see if there are any alerts, but it would raise suspicion that I’m not human to these people. Better get them moving.

“Hey, you guys work here. Can you figure out what’s going on?”

The woman blinks herself back to the present. “Yeah. Let me grab my tablet.”

I move to the door and crack it open. The hallway is dark, lit only by red emergency lights. There’s no movement anywhere. I slip out of the room and return to the Inochi cryo-freeze room. I wave my wrist at the door, and it doesn’t open. It merely beeps and flashes red. Oh fuck. I’m sure all microchip wrist data points are on an emergency system with power, but this must mean the hospital is on lockdown.

What do I do now?

The door has a reinforced metal casing with a bolstered jamb. I could probably force it open, but it would be loud and call attention to me. I’m trying to be undercover here.

I turn and press my back to the door. This was supposed to be the simple part of my mission. I already have too many responsibilities to have this go wrong, too. Rin was right. I’m too cocky for my own good sometimes.

Sigh. I should just go back to the UPN room.

But when I return, things are not any better.

“Oh my God.” The woman is staring at her tablet with wide eyes. “A suicide bomber just blew up the east wing.”