Heart-Lock-It

Heart-Lock-It

“In order to join you have to answer a series of questions. Are you ready? Good, okay then. What interest do you have in low gravity soccer? When did you make the transition? Why join a female team? Look, we are just trying to gauge how sincere you are about joining. Do you or do you not take testosterone suppressing hormones? Perhaps you are on feminizing hormone therapy? Do you consider yourself more female or male?” scathed the judges.

Samantha wanted to join the low gravity soccer team. To join she had to sit in front of a panel of judges, so they could arbitrarily assess how female she was. Samantha knew she was a woman, the rest of my world did not.

After being rejected by the panel she sought illegal estrogen and illegal feminizing hormone therapy. Due to her ex-boyfriend having a link with a cyber runner, getting her hands on the therapy was easy. The cyber runner accepted all types of cryptocurrencies. It cost her everything, but she knew the injections were worth it.

Samantha said glowingly “My ex-boyfriend enjoyed me more, and I felt special.”

Those experiences were the last straw she had with society. From there on out, she vowed to fight for those oppressed by prejudiced systems of power. She began protesting in the streets for reforms targeted at grade A water equality, immigrant justice, fair cybernetic healthcare, and neuralink inclusion. Today she was off to protest the unfair treatment of immigrants along the border.

Walking down the stairs from her room on her way out, she hears her dad watching DOXI News channel.

“Dad, you know how I feel about DOXI News!” shouted Samantha.

He sat in his chair wearing his red cashmere sweater, sipping his tonic dream. Alongside his chair were empty bottles that wreaked of alcohol mixed with THC.

“For the last time, I have my right to watch whatever the hell I want!”

“Yeah, but you let that news twist you into rationalizing marginalizing people.” criticized Samantha.

“Rationalizing marginalizing? Look Samuel, you’re wrong. Your crazy teachers have you brainwashed.” he boasted.

“Take off that dress. You cannot fight in that damn thing, and it looks ridiculous. And no, it is not because I don’t like you being queer, it is because I know you will get beat up out there.”

Samantha remained poised, “I’m gay and a transwoman, not queer.”

In the past, he and Samantha fought over her transition. So much so that at one point she was homeless. After seeing Samantha in the hospital with a stroke at age 17, he allowed her to live back home. Having the stroke scared Samantha, she was advised to stop taking the illegal feminizing hormone therapy. Moreover, the healthcare team agreed that even legal therapy would be a death sentence.

The DOXI News anchor overpowering the room yelled, “Immigrants have been hacking the border security walls. Funded by cryptocurrency and left-wingers, millions of illegal immigrants are entering. Remember, Illegal immigrants are rapists and murderers, we must protect our children, our mothers.”

Her dad clipped his Fuente Fuente Opus X, lit it up and said, “Looks like good news for you huh, you are more about them immigrants than me.”

The news channel went to commercials “Buy one, get one now at furniture mart...great low prices...low gravity soccer team match between the two world powers this Saturday…”

Her dad was not paying much attention to the commercials until “Need a heart transplant? Tired of waiting in line? Now manufactured from stem cells placed in pigs, hearts are available in mass. BioCenGen introduces their innovative Heart-Lock-It. During surgery your surgeon will simply snap and lock your new heart into place. Donate to BioCenGen and receive a free heart locket pendant. Show your support for the fight against heart disease”

“Wow, can you believe this now? Society is creating human hearts inside of swine, what a deadly sin.” he lectured.

Samantha sighed, “I’ll let you be dad, I’m going out for the weekend. Going to spend the night with a few friends.”

He did not care what she did anymore. His only care was how his boss and friends perceived him. For that, he could never be seen having a homeless daughter or a daughter that lost her life from being a customer of cyber runners.

Once outside, she made her way to her NeuraBike, scanned her eye against its identification radar. The bike hovered, and she was off to the quad to protest. On the way, the bike’s LiDAR system projected the VNN and FCC news channels. She versed herself on the developing protest situation.

When she arrived, the protesters were chanting “Immigrants have rights! Free women and children from cages!”

Samantha unlinked herself from her bike and rushed to her friend Vas. “What did I miss, anything?”

Vas replied, “Nah, this protest has no spark. We’re wasting our time, not getting anything done, not being noticed.”

Vas was a cyber runner. He ran all kinds of jailbreak neura implants, bacteria produced CBGs, and hacking devices. For him, this protest was boring and tame compared to his cyber runner life.

“I have an idea.” Vas whispered.

Vas took Samantha to his gravity van. He linked up, and the van self-drove according to Vas’s neuronal directions.

“Samantha, let’s be heroes tonight.” said Vas, his eyes dilated “We are actually going to do something.”

Vas and Samantha drove out of the city. They drove out into the desert, past the canyons and the landfills.

“Vas! Where are we going, we are past the firewalls. Beyond this point hackers can gain access to our neuralinks.” Samantha said frighteningly.

Vas looked over at her casually and said, “We are protected, the hackers know we are here. I told them we are coming.”

Samantha was puzzled, but she understood. “We are helping the immigrants cross?!”

Vas grinned “Yeah baby.”

They saw the immigrants running down below their hovered van. There was a man carrying a child on his back, and several other people interlocking hands with one another. Each carried a backpack and supplies. At first they thought the van was border patrol, but realized it was the people the hackers relayed information to.

Vas landed the van, and said in his limited Spanish “Quieres transporte?”

The people rushed inside the van saying “Gracias...Muy bien…Rapido por favor”

Samantha looked back at her seat. She noticed their battered shoes or lack thereof. The dirt covering their faces and bruises up and down their legs and arms. She saw how thin and famished they appeared.

Every minute was thrilling and empowering. Every minute felt like forever.

“We are approaching the firewall, here we go baby!” Vas hopefully exclaimed.

Upon passing the firewall, everyone’s absent expressions turned into smiles as they rejoiced making it to the land of opportunity.

“We made it, omg we made it!” Samantha cried.

Then, a beam of light from above targeted the van. Everything inside shook. The van’s hovering abilities died down and they crashed into the dunes.

“Corre. Rapido rapido.” shouted the children.

Before they could get out of the van themselves, the van’s back doors were oxy-cut with torches. Everyone sheltered the children. The doors were removed, and robots grabbed each person.

"Leave us alone you sick robots.” Samantha said as she tried punching her way out of the robot's grip.

Everyone was loaded and locked into a transport vehicle. Samantha and Vas were frightened, but the immigrants were nonchalant. They had failed in the past and knew better to get their hopes up. Some had funded the journey through familial funds, others from years of savings.

Samantha recomposed herself. “No worries everyone, my family has plenty of money. Once they release us, I’ll forward funds to you all. Vas, is something wrong?”

Vas had a look of confusion “This is not border patrol. Look at the ourobóros symbol on our handcuffs.”

BioCenGen had their hands in cybernetics, neuralinks, AI, robotics, and stem cell research. To symbolize their goal of eternal cyclic renewal, the corporation logo was the famous snake symbol ourobóros.

The transport came to a halt. Outside they heard footsteps against concrete. The transport vehicle’s door opened. People gowned up in hazmat gear grabbed each person, even the children.

Samantha was grabbed by two hazmat members, she kicked and screamed “What is going on? What does BioCenGen want with us?!”

They were shoved into a sealed room. Everyone was in shock. They had no idea what was going to happen. One of the immigrants was pregnant and advised by the other people to relax and take deep breaths. Suddenly, gas filled the chamber. People covered their mouths and noses. They rushed to the ground to create sealed air pockets.

“This is wrong! Stop now!” Samantha kept bashing against the door. And, then little by little the room became darker and darker.

Samantha woke up to bright lights, her arms and legs were locked into place. She was lying flat on an operating table. Beside her were the others, also strapped into place.

Vas cried, “Oh no! Stop! Oh god no!”

Samantha looked over at Vas shouting. The hazmat personnel were operating on his body. They were filling bags full of his blood. Each working fast and steady, they carved organs from him.

A group of surgeons dressed in hazmat gear began setting up operations beside Samantha. They took off her clothes and laughed.

“I was looking forward to seeing these breasts.” jokingly said one surgeon.

“Let’s take a look under her dress...what is this junk supposed to be?” the other surgeon said in a disappointed manner. “She may not be an immigrant, her citizen barcode tells us that. Although, I am sure no one would want this, so she won’t be missed by society.”

“Well, take a look at these injection sites on her legs. We can’t harvest her blood, due to the possibility of illegal hormones or drugs.” they scuffled.

“We have a quota to meet for our investors. I don’t care if she is a citizen or injected with crap.” the head surgeon demanded.

The surgeons came together to make a decision, “Its heart is still good, at least we can take that. Our stem cells underwent necrosis when we had that power outage.”

They agreed, “Let’s just remarket it as a Heart-Lock-It, no one will know the difference.”

Samantha was paralyzed. She couldn’t move her body or fight or even talk. She felt every single needle, every scalpel incision, and every gloved hand. She got to the point when she no longer felt any pain, just cold rushing through her body---until her eyes closed.

Saturday arrived, and Samantha’s dad was watching the gravity soccer match. He had placed bets, so was really into the match. From the excitement he felt a rush of pain radiating from his chest down his left arm. 911 was immediately notified of his changing status from his cybernetic monitoring implants. Upon entering the ER, he was rushed to the Catheterization lab for the diagnosis of a STEMI. Unfortunately, no amount of stents or bypass grafts would save him, his heart had undergone cardiac failure from all the necrosis.

The nurse practitioner walked to his bedside, “Sir, we are so sorry to inform you that your heart has too much damage to be repaired. We can continue this ECMO machine as long as you want, but the bottom line is you need a new heart.”

“I have the funds for any transplant surgery, let's go.” he said in a snobbish tone.

“Well sir, the country has a long transplant waiting list. With your condition you will not survive long enough on this ECMO. However, we can offer you…” the nurse practitioner stuttered.

He was sweaty, tired, and just wanted the ordeal to end, “Yes, spit it out. Offer me what?!”

The nurse practitioner peacefully muttered

“A Heart-Lock-It.”

~Thanks for reading