David Ohle - The Pisstown Chaos

Mildred's root water was bitter, but thirst-quenching. She ate her starch bar in silence and watched Jacob place chunks of sea slug along the rim of his plate, then one by one cat them, chewing thoroughly before swallowing. "You've got to chew them exactly a hundred times or they'll rot your kidneys." Each chunk was followed by a gulp of urpmilk. "Hey, pretty thing," Jacob said when the last of his sea slug had been chewed and swallowed, and laid his heavy hand on Mildred's shoulder. "We'll get along just ducky. I know it."

When a camp-bound pedal bus stopped outside, Mildred, Jacob, and six or seven other shiftees climbed aboard. A young American male sitting behind Jacob tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, look here. See my new bride? She's fifty years older than me and way too stiff. If I'm lucky she'll go to the crematory pretty quick."

Mildred turned to see a one-eyed stinker she guessed to be eighty or older, sound asleep, her dentures protruding. "You'd think they would do a better job of pairing people," the American said.

"They're not even trying to," Jacob said. "That's the whole idea. `It's all random, completely random, and absolutely necessary.' I'm quoting Hooker when I say that."

Passengers were let off at a barn-like, windowless, rustedmetal Quonset hut. "This is where they check us in and check us out," the young American's aged companion said. "I've been here a lot of times." Her walk was hobbled and she struggled to keep her balance. Mildred took her by the elbow and helped her into the sweltering building through tall, sliding doors, seized by rust in their tracks.

To one side of the cavernous building were hastily and carelessly framed check-in booths, each curtained with burlap sacks sewn end to end. When a booth became empty, the next shiftee in line went in. Forms were there to be filled out and dropped through a slot, small jars to be filled with urine, labeled, sealed and dropped into another slot. When these tasks were completed, registrants were instructed to see one of the several white-smocked nurses who were sitting at small tables doing anal swipes on the other side of the building.

Again, Mildred did what she could to help the stinker along. "I sure hope you don't get it as bad as I got it, lady," the stinker said. "You seem to be nice."

When Jacob's turn came, the nurse said, "Stand behind that screen and lower your rags and briefs. We're looking at anal discharges, to get a baseline parasite count. This is the second phase of the new shift. Word came down yesterday from the Reverend's office. I guess they're doing a study. It's for the public good."

Jacob lowered his pants and pulled down his shorts. He felt the cool sting of alcohol being applied with a cotton swab, then the insertion and twisting of something dull and wooden. "Ouch!"

The nurse withdrew the broken probe. "These probes are not well made. Looks like a little piece stayed in there. Oh, well. Nothing we can do. It won't harm you. Natural processes will dissolve it. Move on, now. Go out the back entrance. You and your new partner will be issued a trailer number, a map, and a pedal car. It's up to you to locate your trailer."

"How large is the camp?" Jacob asked the nurse.

"It would take a full day to pedal around it. So don't get lost. There are Guards at the gate and they'll point you in the right direction. They'll also have you take a strong dose of Willy."

New arrivals waited behind the Quonset hut to be issued pedal cars. Camp trustees pedaled them up to the crowd one at a time from a garage so far from the welcome station, it took the better part of an hour. The process was agonizingly slow.

At some distance, Mildred saw the young American and his old shift-partner get into their pedal car. Other shiftees knew the half-dead stinker wouldn't be pedaling at all and some of the larger, heavier males got behind the car and gave it a push. It rolled slowly down a slight incline, then gained momentum.

"I'm going to refuse the willy," Mildred said. "What can they do if you refuse? Turn you around and send you home?"

"What's wrong with willy? I hear it's relaxing. And I could use something to ease the pain down there. She left a splinter in my bung, from the probe. It hurts."

"It doesn't surprise me. The swabs were dirty. They used them over and over. Tell me, who owns the patent on the swabs and the probes? Who owns the plant where they make them?"

"The Reverend, I guess."

"Of course."

"So what? He's a good man. He's looking out for us. He's got a plan. I'm taking the willy. It's harmless. That's what they say. It's natural. It comes from urpflanz, a juice from the root. Hooker says it's the perfect plant. It has a thousand uses.

"And I'm sure one of them is to make what's intolerable more or less agreeable."

"You're crazy, girl. You're gonna get into trouble."

A reconditioned pedal car was eventually brought to them, freshly painted bright yellow, but with a dry, rusty chain, grinding gears and a broken windshield.

"We're gonna be a hell of a mating pair," Jacob said, strapping his feet into the pedals, then squeezing Mildred's shoulder. "But I'll take it slow."

At the gate was a small, octagonal guardhouse. Two Divine Guards armed with billy bats played pinochle inside and smoked hand-rolled urpflanz cigarettes. One of them got up languidly and strode to the pedal car with two doses of willy in waxed paper envelopes, a packet of documents, and a bottle of water. "Here's your trailer number, a map to find it, a list of do's and don'ts, and your willywhack." He handed the documents to Mildred and the willy to Jacob. "One for you and one for the woman. Have a swig of water if you like."

"I'm not taking that," Mildred said matter-of-factly. "It doesn't agree with me. I'll take my chances without it."

"I'll take it," Jacob said. "I'll take hers, too, if it's all right."

The second Guard swaggered from the guardpost with his billy bat drawn. "What have we got here, a refuser? Nixing the willy, are you? Get out of the car, both of you."

"It was her," Jacob said. "Hell, I'll take it gladly… Come on, Mildred, take it, please."

"No, I'm not. If it's free, and from the Reverend, it's to be avoided."

"Listen to me, lady. This is willy-10, far, far purer than anything they've come up with yet. Willy-1 was rough, untested, yes, and it killed a lot. But we're nine levels beyond that. Now it's also an anti-parasitic."

"I don't believe it," Mildred insisted.

"All right. That's it. I'm going to shove it down your throat. Then you'll know what you're missing."

Mildred tried to keep her mouth closed and her teeth clenched, but the two Guards overpowered her, brought her to the ground and pried open her mouth. She had no option but to swallow the willy, encased in a gelatin capsule. If she hadn't she would have gagged. After this, Jacob swallowed his dose with a gulp of chalky, off tasting water.

One of the Guards said, "Okay, get in the car and follow the map. Go north fifty trailers then dogleg cast. You're in living unit 8080802. You can find all the things you need either in the unit itself or on the grounds. There are plenty of imps living in the greenbelt that surrounds the camp. Trap them or club them for food. In the camp, you'll have to rely a lot on your own devices." He backed away from the pedal car. "What about willy?" Jacob asked. "How do we get more willy?"

"A wagon comes by once or twice a week, possibly tomorrow, I think. You'll be supplied with willy and commodities, too. Water, starch bars, urpmeal, the works. And don't forget, that dose of willy you just had'll put you to sleep right at curfew. It's time-release, so be warned."

The other Guard leaned into the window. "On your way, now, folks. The sun's going down. Things can get hincty in there at night when the stinkers get restless and roam."