Home Sweet HomeSubmitted by monkeyswithguns at 2010-07-13 13:07:07 EDT
Rating: 1.84 on 23 ratings (23 reviews) (Review this item) (V)
Walter was among the brightest students that the Institute of Genetic Engineering could count on when called upon to provide employees for new gen-businesses, and he had wasted no time in bartering a higher pay than his fellow students.
He had tried to get a plush company vehicle, like one of the newer model Jag-airs, with it’s jet propulsion systems, and leather interior, but the hiring manager had only said that it was the sort of thing that only an established gengineer could demand, and for now it would have to suffice for him to drive a plain, white van with the company logo.
Walter had sulked, but with only 2 semesters until graduation, he’d be calling the shots before long, so it was of little matter for now. He’d pilot the rape-van, but he wouldn’t like it.
More concerning was all the flack he was going to be getting once he donned that distinctive uniform of white coat and baseball cap with the company logo. He had heard rumors that there were violent Christian groups wanting to put a stop to all of this, claiming it was immoral, and that men shouldn’t do such things, but more worrying was the fact that they had bombed the occasional gendustry van or office.
More pathetically, there had been protests by hippies complaining about the pain and suffering and the sanctity of life. What a bunch of witless fuckheads. Walter knew, as did anyone in their right mind, that they didn’t have feelings. They hadn’t been designed to have any.
Still, a job was a job, and this was not only a good job, but it positioned him for even better job placement once he actually had a degree, maybe with an even better company than this one, as they seemed to be popping up all over, like the dot com boom of the early nineteen nineties.
He had signed up immediately.
Walter glided the dated Ford Aero down to a rough landing on an otherwise empty parking lot, before quickly converting and hopping on the interstate. He was headed far into the boonies for a residential job , probably a quick blood sample, and some bone density tests, but every so often he’d come across something peculiar, like an infestation of bot flies on the roof, and once he’d even found a host of maggots eating an upstairs window.
In the six months he’d been working at Home Repairs, M.D., a division of Home Depot, he’d been doing what was considered grunt work, taking all the house calls furthest out and away from civilization, and as a result, he was getting a good idea of what the new gengineered homes would be facing in terms of predation, but nothing would have prepared him for what was to come.
He pulled into the gated drive, noting the name, “Cheng” on the mailbox, although the customer’s name on the paper had been “Anna Sims." It wasn’t entirely unheard of for Chinese oligarchs to take up residence in the U.S. under one of their mistresses names, it was a far cry better than being back in the industrial wastelands of China, an environmental nightmare that the North American government had been desperate to avoid, thus the introduction of bio-homes into the marketplace.
Who would buy a home, when for half the price, you could have a home grown on your property? It self-insulated, conserved energy, was easily customizable, and the only materials required were recycled organic materials and water! Still, the technology was far from perfected, as proven by these little house-calls he’d been making.
As he pulled up to the house, he could smell a slight stench, nothing overwhelming, but unsettling.
Standing at the door was the apparent Mr. Cheng himself. Apparently slack-jawed, the man’s mouth gaped open and Walter was sure he could see drool forming at the corner of his mouth. Perhaps he was a mongoloid, he thought.
“Good morning, Mr…..Cheng?”
“Yes, thank you for coming, I’ve had a bit of a problem with my back porch, please, come inside.”
Walter followed Mr. Cheng through the enlarged sphincter, being sure to push away the spare folds of the entry to accommodate his tool-kit.
As they walked to the rear of the house, he noticed the walls changing from a healthy pink, fading to white, and at the sphincter to the back porch, a sickly grey.
“Well, I’d say you do indeed have a problem Mr. Cheng!”
Walter went to work pulling on latex gloves, drawing a pint of blood from the wall vessel, taking a biopsy and some photos before stitching up the small wound.
“About how long has this been going on here?”
“Since late last week, the smell started yesterday, so I knew I should call before it got any worse!” he said as he put on a surgical mask.
“Has anything strange happened lately?”
“No, nothing out of the ordinary, just the normal scrapes and cuts of living in a meat-home."
“Mr. Cheng, I’d like to take a look out back, see if any parasites may have entered, but we certainly won’t be going out this way!”
The man motioned for Walter to follow him, and as they walked through the living room, he took note of the art on the walls, woodprints of tentacle porn. “Those crazy Asians….” thought Walter.
On the back porch, he noticed several fissures in the walls surrounding the house’s rear entry.
“What happened did this happen Mr. Cheng?”
“Normal wear and tear, nothing out of the ordinary, as I said”
Donning new surgical gloves, and grinning at the audible snap, Walter kneeled down to take a closer look. The fissures, each no wider than an inch, were red, and cracking, and oozing a sort of pus. He quickly worked to take samples, and more photographs.
“Mr. Cheng, I’ve never seen anything like this before, I don’t see anything moving in there, but it could be some sub-visible bacterial affliction. I’m going to have to take these back to the lab, and we’ll see what I can find out.”
"I'm eager to know what's wrong with my precious house, please do call as soon as you find out!"
Walter simply wiped the spittle off of his face, and headed back to the van.
As he flew back to the lab, thoughts were flying in the back of his mind.
Could he have been an agent of the Chinese government? There had been rumors that since they’d taken over North Korea, they were instituting some of the espionage tactics they’d learned from them, and they were notably behind in the genetic sciences, having decided to stick to ancient herbal medicines.
It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that they had introduced some primordial Asian virus here, in an attempt to cause a home pandemic.
After several hours of whizzing and whirring sounds made by the type of scientific machinery you’d see in an episode of CSI, the results came back, and the answer was obvious.
Walter's heart was seized with tension as he called Mr. Cheng to confirm the results. He’d never had to do this kind of thing before, and hopefully this wouldn’t become routine.
Mr. Cheng picked up the phone on the third ring.
“Mr. Cheng, I’ve got some bad news for you. Your house has syphilis. I’m calling in a prescription for some anti-biotics, and I’m having the CDC look into how this may have occurred.”
Mr. Cheng began weeping…”But they’ll take my Anna away!!!”
Nope that wasn't pus he was taking samples of............jpg