CORPSE FARM

© Dana W. Paxson 2005

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CORPSE FARM

1557 4D

Two of ArCorp‘s internal investigators, a man and a woman, came to interview Jeddin a few days later, knocking at the thin steel door of his narrow cubby. They looked worried.

“The viral contamination accident is a most sensitive matter,” the man said.

“I understand, sir.” Jeddin always tried to act respectful.

“Are you in good health?”

“So far, yes, sir. I decontaminated promptly.”

“Good. We will be checking in with you. In the meantime, we are reassigning you to the vat reject disposal area. Just a temporary measure.”

The disposal area: a corpse farm. Jeddin shuddered. “Yes, sir.”

“Tell no one,” the woman said.

“Of course,” he agreed, nodding.

“We expect you to stay here. Do not leave the area or your designated work zone. Do not communicate anything about this matter to others. If you do, the CIB will terminate you. Do you understand?”

“Absolutely, ma’am.”

“Good.” They left.

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