Plaque Munchers
“Honey, eat your salad, you need
those plaque munchers.”
“Mom, they taste like compost.
Carnivore compost.”
“No dear, they do not. You have never
tasted carnivore compost.” She shuddered at the memory of cleaning
out Oma's fridge after the old woman was finally moved to the Ranch.
“You can hardly taste them if you use the dressing.”
“I don't like the dressing.”
Melissa sighed. It was a good thing
Ellen was still asleep, because she copied everything Chuck did.
“Chuck, honey, do you want me to cook
them into the Veggs™
tomorrow? I know you wouldn't taste them there.” It took her
another 20 minutes to get her son to finish the salad. By then, she
was about ready to let the disgusting parasitic microbes just eat his
teeth.
*
Shaka checked the time. Damn! She'd
better call.
"Hello?"
"Hi sweetie. Look, I'm not going
to make it home before I have to ship out."
"What did I tell you. You should
have done something special with the kids before you went to Luna.
They aren't home. I'll have to tell them they won't see you for...
what, six weeks?"
Shaka bit her thumb, then stuck it in
her pocket. "I know. I don't know why I argue with you about
stuff like that. Listen, tell Chuck and Ellen I'll bring them
something heavy from the Cluster."
"Do you have plaque munchers?
They won't have them yet in the Cluster."
"No! I'll pick some up on the
station. The cost here is ridiculous, but it's reimbursable."
She swallowed and lowered her voice. "Melissa, I owe you big.
When I get back we'll take some time, just the two of us and, you
know...."
"Just take care of yourself out
there. We'll make some time for us soon."
*
Melissa was nearing the end of the
latest job when a news report tripped her filters and popped up on
the screen. The video showed a couple of toothless people with their
mouths open wide.
"Sound," Melissa said.
"... brands including plaque
munchers, tooth buffers, and no-brush smiles are prone to developing
rogue strains. Rogue traits include consumption of tooth enamel,
hair cells, and connective tissue. The Health Directorate
recommends..." Melissa was already running to the bathroom. She
stared at her teeth in the mirror, turning her head this way and
that. They looked normal as far as she could tell. Was any of her
hair falling out? She rubbed vigorously at her head while leaning
over the sink. Five hairs lay in the sink. That didn't seem
out of line. She would check the kids when they got home from
school.
Shaka! She was headed thru the
wormhole ... Melissa checked the time ... 5 minutes ago. Maybe she
forgot to buy the plaque munchers. She did have a lot on her mind.
And was out of communication for six weeks – worrying would not
help. Tell that to her subconscious! Her thoughts were interrupted
by the door slamming, followed by Ellen's panicked screaming.
"Mommy, mommy, mommy! They took
Chuck! They took him!"
Melissa scooped her daughter up in her
arms and stroked her hair, patted her back, said those things parents
always say, until Ellen was calm enough to speak coherently. Chuck
had collapsed during atomic theory lab and had been taken to the
school medical office. From there, medicbots had taken him to the
hospital. That was all Ellen knew.
*
Beige walls, soothing mass-produced
"prints," posters full of medical advice for dummies,
battered readers full of uplifting human-interest stories. Waiting
rooms don't change.
Melissa, pacing, froze when a young
woman in a white coat came into the room. She wore the telltale
black and green sigil of a doctor. "Ms. Cokran? I'm Dr.
Smith."
"What about Chuck?" Melissa
lowered her voice. "Is it ... the rogue plaque muncher? Will
he live? Can he...." Dr. Smith put a hand on her shoulder.
"He'll be fine. It's just a
viroid left over from the MilLab incident. The bug's not a bad one,
and I gave him something for it. Take him home and he'll be his
normal self before you get there."
*
Exhausted, Melissa flopped down in the
smart chair. It began to massage her shoulders as she leaned her head
back and shut her eyes. Ellen and Chuck ran shrieking past her
and into the playroom. Then, dead silence, followed a few moments
later by terrified screams and her two children returning at a dead
run to leap into her lap.
“What now? Mom is worn out! This
better be important.”
Ellen's screams had subsided and she was now sniffling into Melissa's chest.
Ellen's screams had subsided and she was now sniffling into Melissa's chest.
Chuck pointed a trembling finger at the door to the family room. “The wall, with the stain?”
Melissa rolled her eyes. “There is no
stain. Remember? The two of you couldn't wait. Mommy made a
special trip to buy the new universal cleaner. And, for a wonder, it
worked. So now, if you make a mess that the cleanbot can't take care
of...”
“But Mommy, we don't like the face.”
Eventually Melissa was convinced to struggle out of the chair and let the children push her ahead of them into the playroom. Neither one would enter the room; Ellen stopped a few meters short of the door.
“But Mommy, we don't like the face.”
Eventually Melissa was convinced to struggle out of the chair and let the children push her ahead of them into the playroom. Neither one would enter the room; Ellen stopped a few meters short of the door.
The mark on the wall had returned. No, when she got closer Melissa realized this was different. It was a face, a three-dimensional face sticking out of the wall. It did not look human. The nose was long and curved up to a point, almost like a horn. The eyes were huge, though closed, and had wrinkly lids. The mouth was closed too, but sharp teeth were visible. Evidently there wasn't room behind the lips for them all. The eyes opened. The irises glowed yellow. The pupils were horizontal lozenges, like those of a goat. The lips writhed open. “Hungry,” the thing said, in a voice of stone and wood. It leaned forward a little out of the wall, stretching the flexipaint. Its as yet invisible stomach rumbled, and the floor and walls trembled.
Melissa wondered when she would receive the warning bulletin about the universal cleaner.
No comments:
Post a Comment