Private Garibaldi by Radrook
Nov 9, 2022 17:41:07 GMT -5
Post by Radrook Admin on Nov 9, 2022 17:41:07 GMT -5
Private Garibaldi
by Radrook
by Radrook
My name is Jonathan Johansson, and I am here to h-help you adjust to our system,” the tall, lanky, blond man in a navy-blue uniform said after standing behind the podium. Calmly he carefully surveyed the sea of young faces seated before him in the installation’s auditorium and smiled benignly to put them at ease. Then he continued.
“I know that e-everyone h-here is a b-bit disoriented from having traveled in state of v-v-vitrification for the last f-five months in order to reach this Kuiper Belt outpost. But this lecture is absolutely necessary in order to familiarize you with the reasons why we are here and the importance of everyone faithfully adhering to the stringent rules.
“Sir can I show--” the dark, chubby fellow in the last row of seats said in a rather unusual high-pitched voice.
“Not n-n-now p-p-private Garibaldi, ask after the lecture!” Johansson responded.
He glared his bloodshot eyes at Garibaldi before resuming in order to get the message across. He detested interruptions. Especially now that his nerves had been severely frayed by his recent infection which had left him with a labial tick and a slight stutter.
Interruptions would only make his symptoms worse by interrupting his rhythm, so he couldn’t allow them. Furthermore, and much worse, if he failed at this simple task, then the installation’s administrator, Yamamoto Sunahara, might tag him as dead weight and have him transported back to Earth.
“Now, as I was s-s-s-saying, he continued with several slight twitches of the corner of his thin upper lip, “there are certain things you must be aware of that are essential for your own safety and the proper management of this installation. One is that you must at all times maintain proper hygiene. That means that you must shower daily and pass through the sterilization chambers before entering the facility’s lab.
“Sir can I show--” Garibaldi once more interrupted.
This time Johansson slammed the palm of his pale hand against the lectern’s side. He noticed that Garibaldi was perspiring profusely and had what seemed like a grimace on his wide Mestizo face. He attributed it to anger. It was glaringly obvious that this recruit was a troublemaker. One of those guys who hates to take orders. Or else one of those underachievers who had always dreamt of reaching greater heights in life and who was envious of others success. But he would learn that here at the installation, that kind of disruptive behavior would not be tolerated.
“N-N-Not n-n-n-n-now G-G-G-Garibaldi. Are you d-d-deaf?” Johansson bellowed causing a murmur among the other recruits who had begun to look at him in a rather weird way for some inexplicable reason.
"Well, heh! heh! As I was s-saying, the sterilization procedure is very essential. If any microbe from the outside is introduced into this facility, we run the risk of exposing everyone else to a potentially fatal threat. What are those threats you might ask? Permit me to me elaborate. We have as yet not determined exactly how our immune systems can ha-ha-ha ha-handle the microbes of this biosphere.
Until we do ascertain the parameters of our resistance, we must consider each one potentially lethal until proven otherwise. Especially the Branga virus that was discovered recently in the sweltering swamp-like areas of this rock. That one resembles a certain malignant virus which devastated the Earth several hundred years ago. It hit me like a ton of bricks. But a y-y-you can see, I have recuperated. But why did I get infected in the first place is the question.
As simple as it was stupid, because of not adhering to the strict rules established for the safety of us all. You see, back on Earth, I was a botanist with a flower garden in my private greenhouse. Flowers h-h-have always fascinated me.” Johansson said proudly after several more twitches of his upper lip.
“So when I first arrived at this r-r-r-rock, and saw what appeared like one, I absentmindedly picked it up, and it’s micro-tendrils penetrated my spacesuit’s glove and injected a powerful neurotoxin. The first symptoms were explosive diarrhea accompanied by projectile vomiting,”
Several more lip-twitches before he continued:
“Then I was gradually paralyzed and almost d-d-died. B-b-b-but here I am. Lesson learned, and I truly hope that my experience will prove useful for others. Don’t t-t-touch sniff or taste anything organic without p-p-proper precaution outside this facility. Understood”
“Sir yes sir! Understood sir!” they all responded in unison.
“Now are there any questions?” Johansson asked smiling broadly and very glad that the session was over.
“Sir yes sir!" Garibaldi rose to his feet slowly and laboriously stepped into the aisle to face Johansson. Now finally noticing his lethargy and gaunt appearance, Johansson wondered how the hell such a sickly-looking, specimen of a recruit get assigned to this installation?”
“And what might that question be Private Garibaldi?"
“So it wasn‘t OK to bring this in here?’ he produced a small green, squirming, gelatinous, blob seemingly stuck to the palm of his hand.
“I found it stuck to the installation’s outside wall sir! he said holding it up for the horrified Johansson and the other recruits who immediately retreated as far from him as possible to see.
Yamamoto Sunahara who had just entered to see how things were going and had been nodding his head approvingly suddenly swayed several times like a pendulum and then fainted his small body hitting the black-marbled polished floor with a resounding thud. Recruits were exiting the auditorium in a panicked haste while Johansson stood there feeling his jaw swiveling rapidly in an effort to say something but for some reason no sound was being produced.
“Also, may I b-b-b-be excused to use the Latrine n-n-n-now s-s-sir? So I can scrape this off?" Garibaldi calmly added.