“I’m starving!”
“Yeah!”
“How much longer?”
“I said stop touching me there!”
“Food! Now!”
The crew was antsy, expressing their detestation for the extended stop on Pexar-58, Dr. Coe’s home planet. Captain Morrow had successfully--well, mistakenly, while urinating in a lake--found a small clump of theorium, a complex chemical element requested by Dr. Coe, and they had stopped to deliver it about three hours before.
Captain Morrow slammed his hand down on a wooden desk. “Shut up!”
“But cap’n--”
“You insolent children--can you not see that this is a major scientific discovery?”
“Well, actually, Captain,” Dr. Coe interjected, “it’s not so much a discovery as it is a creative display of engineering and construction.”
Captain Morrow turned back to his crew, “Can you not see that this is a creative display of engineering and construction?”
Winslow raised his hand, catching Captain Morrow’s eye and turning his stomach upside down. “What is it now, Winslow?”
“Yeah!”
“How much longer?”
“I said stop touching me there!”
“Food! Now!”
The crew was antsy, expressing their detestation for the extended stop on Pexar-58, Dr. Coe’s home planet. Captain Morrow had successfully--well, mistakenly, while urinating in a lake--found a small clump of theorium, a complex chemical element requested by Dr. Coe, and they had stopped to deliver it about three hours before.
Captain Morrow slammed his hand down on a wooden desk. “Shut up!”
“But cap’n--”
“You insolent children--can you not see that this is a major scientific discovery?”
“Well, actually, Captain,” Dr. Coe interjected, “it’s not so much a discovery as it is a creative display of engineering and construction.”
Captain Morrow turned back to his crew, “Can you not see that this is a creative display of engineering and construction?”
Winslow raised his hand, catching Captain Morrow’s eye and turning his stomach upside down. “What is it now, Winslow?”
“Actu’ly, I was gonna ask you that.”
“What?”
“What is that?” Winslow pointed to Dr. Coe’s construct.
“That,” Dr. Coe gleamed, “is my fully-automated-intelligent-lifeform!”
Dooley started to ask if the acronym was intentional, but Captain Morrow shook his head, telling Dooley not to even start. Dr. Coe continued, “I call him...Gil!”
“Gil?” Dooley asked.
“Generally-Intelligent-Lifeform. Sounds better than ‘Fail’.”
“Oh, so that was intentional?”
“What?”
Captain Morrow stopped them, “Doctor, what is the purpose of the theorium?”
Dr. Coe’s eyes sparkled, “Ah, that is his brain!” Everyone stared at Dr. Coe, some wondering how they came to be enclosed in a lab with such a crazy person, another wondering if the colorful viles of bubbling liquid around them might taste like boysenberry pie or, perhaps, a steak. Kleplar steak! Delicately seasoned with black pepper and doused with Mum’s own Knot-Tar, and --
Captain Morrow woke Winslow with firm slap across his temple. “Stop snoring,” Captain Morrow hissed through clenched teeth.
Dr. Coe, who had apparently been talking for a while, continued, “and so the cables feed through the ‘spine’ to the theorium above and the phalanges elsewhere. His frame is sturdy, and, though malleable, his outer shell is strong enough to endure most anything.” The crew ooh’d and ah’d. Dr. Coe continued, “All that’s left is to turn the switch.”
Everyone was silent as Dr. Coe flicked his finger behind Gil’s ear. The sound of newly born gears moving echoed inside Gil’s chest, which closely resembled an oil drum. As his eyes lit up a luminous blue from the theorium inside, a rush of air surged into Gil’s mouth, through a rectangular grate below his eyes. Then a breath emerged, invisible, though not silent. Dr. Coe giggled with delight.
Dooley stepped forward, examining the creation. “Is it...breathing?”
“He,” Dr. Coe corrected, “and yes. Well, sort of. Gil isn’t breathing like you and me. No. He is breathing, though--inhaling the pollutants around us, metabolizing them inside here,” Dr. Coe patted Gil’s drum torso, “and exhaling pure oxygen.”
Dooley, with astonishment in his voice, finished Dr. Coe’s explanation. “He emits oxygen to support life in otherwise dangerous environments?”
“Well, that’s the ultimate goal. For now, this prototype can just provide enough oxygen to sustain a comfortable life for a small crew on a ship. Much like yours.”
Captain Morrow was skeptical of Dr. Coe’s creation, but fascinated nonetheless. “So, he’s durable enough to sustain a turbulent voyage on the waves?”
“Undoubtedly. Again, his shell is malleable, but surprisingly strong.”
Winslow began rocking forward and back as he began snoring. Before Captain Morrow could slap him awake again, Winslow fell forward, waking before he could hit the ground, then he began stumbling around, flailing his arms about, trying to regain composure but unable to find his footing. Dr. Coe pulled Gil from the line of Winslow’s disastrous flailing, but when Winslow finally hit a row of shelves behind them, Dr. Coe realized he, too, was in danger. He jumped towards Captain Morrow, who stepped back, and Dr. Coe landed hard on the hard, rocky floor as a bookcase fell on Gil.
Springs and cogs rolled out from under the bookcase as a small explosion was heard from inside Gil’s chest. Smoke and steam swirled around the massacre, and Winslow just stood behind the scene, eyes wide and staring at the bookcase that was now laying on top of Gil. Dr. Coe and Dooley ran over, and lifted the shelves, and Captain Morrow examined Gil’s remains -- some crumbled, some flattened, some on fire. “Yes; quite malleable.”
“What?”
“What is that?” Winslow pointed to Dr. Coe’s construct.
“That,” Dr. Coe gleamed, “is my fully-automated-intelligent-lifeform!”
Dooley started to ask if the acronym was intentional, but Captain Morrow shook his head, telling Dooley not to even start. Dr. Coe continued, “I call him...Gil!”
“Gil?” Dooley asked.
“Generally-Intelligent-Lifeform. Sounds better than ‘Fail’.”
“Oh, so that was intentional?”
“What?”
Captain Morrow stopped them, “Doctor, what is the purpose of the theorium?”
Dr. Coe’s eyes sparkled, “Ah, that is his brain!” Everyone stared at Dr. Coe, some wondering how they came to be enclosed in a lab with such a crazy person, another wondering if the colorful viles of bubbling liquid around them might taste like boysenberry pie or, perhaps, a steak. Kleplar steak! Delicately seasoned with black pepper and doused with Mum’s own Knot-Tar, and --
Captain Morrow woke Winslow with firm slap across his temple. “Stop snoring,” Captain Morrow hissed through clenched teeth.
Dr. Coe, who had apparently been talking for a while, continued, “and so the cables feed through the ‘spine’ to the theorium above and the phalanges elsewhere. His frame is sturdy, and, though malleable, his outer shell is strong enough to endure most anything.” The crew ooh’d and ah’d. Dr. Coe continued, “All that’s left is to turn the switch.”
Everyone was silent as Dr. Coe flicked his finger behind Gil’s ear. The sound of newly born gears moving echoed inside Gil’s chest, which closely resembled an oil drum. As his eyes lit up a luminous blue from the theorium inside, a rush of air surged into Gil’s mouth, through a rectangular grate below his eyes. Then a breath emerged, invisible, though not silent. Dr. Coe giggled with delight.
Dooley stepped forward, examining the creation. “Is it...breathing?”
“He,” Dr. Coe corrected, “and yes. Well, sort of. Gil isn’t breathing like you and me. No. He is breathing, though--inhaling the pollutants around us, metabolizing them inside here,” Dr. Coe patted Gil’s drum torso, “and exhaling pure oxygen.”
Dooley, with astonishment in his voice, finished Dr. Coe’s explanation. “He emits oxygen to support life in otherwise dangerous environments?”
“Well, that’s the ultimate goal. For now, this prototype can just provide enough oxygen to sustain a comfortable life for a small crew on a ship. Much like yours.”
Captain Morrow was skeptical of Dr. Coe’s creation, but fascinated nonetheless. “So, he’s durable enough to sustain a turbulent voyage on the waves?”
“Undoubtedly. Again, his shell is malleable, but surprisingly strong.”
Winslow began rocking forward and back as he began snoring. Before Captain Morrow could slap him awake again, Winslow fell forward, waking before he could hit the ground, then he began stumbling around, flailing his arms about, trying to regain composure but unable to find his footing. Dr. Coe pulled Gil from the line of Winslow’s disastrous flailing, but when Winslow finally hit a row of shelves behind them, Dr. Coe realized he, too, was in danger. He jumped towards Captain Morrow, who stepped back, and Dr. Coe landed hard on the hard, rocky floor as a bookcase fell on Gil.
Springs and cogs rolled out from under the bookcase as a small explosion was heard from inside Gil’s chest. Smoke and steam swirled around the massacre, and Winslow just stood behind the scene, eyes wide and staring at the bookcase that was now laying on top of Gil. Dr. Coe and Dooley ran over, and lifted the shelves, and Captain Morrow examined Gil’s remains -- some crumbled, some flattened, some on fire. “Yes; quite malleable.”
The prompt for the Mutant 750 Challenge #27 at Grammar Ghoul Press is the word "malleable," a adjective meaning "easily influenced; pliable". The visual prompt is the short film, Breathe, by Thesveinsson:
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