FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Despite our advanced technologies and pristine spaceships, batteries are one aspect of society that never quite caught up. Sure, we could find alternative sources of energy, maybe harness the nuclear energy of stars. But corporate giants will fight back. They fearmonger amongst people and spread lies that nuclear power is dangerous and wasteful, and that batteries are the only source of safe and efficient energy. Not surprising, since they make billions each year in battery production.

It's disgusting, really. You'd think we'd moved past that over centuries of advances, but no. Batteries are still the main source of energy that society has chosen to forget about. Swept under the rug like a long-forgotten photograph. After all, it solves two problems at once. We have criminals taking up valuable space and resources, and we need power to fuel our rapid conquest of space. We take one prisoner, modify their bodies, and we can harvest their vital-energy for power. Electro-ethereal conversion, quite the double-edged discovery.

The soul doesn't last forever. Fifty years, give or take, and the person is left a soulless husk. Probably nothing left of their immaterial soul to make it to heaven. When a person's crimes are so heinous, a lifetime isn't enough to pay back for their sins. Turns out we should punish them by taking away their time in heaven, just as we do on earth. At least, that's what the lobbyists say.

Still, it's not like I can do anything about this. I'm just a humble engineer onboard the Star Seeker 4900, maintaining these batteries as these 300 souls propel us through the vast emptiness of space. I slide a battery case back into its slot and tap on my tablet to mark it as maintained. On the screen, I see another battery that's due for its yearly maintenance.

I head down the racks of batteries until I come to it. "IRA-294019" reads its serial number. After I unlock the latches, it slides out of the rack: a rectangular steel case. It's no wider than my arm's length and half as thick. If it were placed on the floor, it'd reach my waist. I disconnect the cables and load it onto my trolley. Humming a tune to myself, I bring the battery back to my lab.

I'm proud of my lab. They even gave me a wide glass window that lets me peer into the blackness of space, punctuated by the glow of stars light-years away. I also keep it clean. Every panel has been cleaned of stains and smears so it remains white.

I lay the battery horizontally across my workbench and lift open the cover. Most people would be uncomfortable with the sight within, but it's nothing new to me. There's a wolf inside with all 5 limbs missing. Various parts of his body have been augmented or replaced with electronic devices covered with ports. Cables and tubes extend from the sides of the claustrophobic chamber, connecting to the ports all over his body. He looks young, maybe in his early 30s?

The wolf opens his eyes feebly and looks at me. The sedation keeps him weak, even if he were to attempt to escape or even attack me, he wouldn't get far. I release a valve, allowing fresh air to flow into the metal muzzle locked around his face. After that, I disconnect the cables from his body.

I try not to think about the batteries while I work. I'm sure they've had families. Friends. But I remind myself that they gave all of that up when they turned to a life of crime. The least I can do for them is to keep them healthy with my maintenance.

After I disconnect the last tube that's attached to his flat metal-plated crotch, I take him out of the battery case and lay him on the workbench. Dirt and dust have accumulated in the ports and I realise the last engineer probably never did any actual maintenance on this unit. I grumble quietly and begin cleaning up the ports.

I also take time to brush out his matted fur. It's not something I'm supposed to do, but I do it anyway. Maybe it's because I take pride in my work. Maybe because it's my way of showing concern for these batteries. Maybe it's to ease my guilt. Either way, I work through his fur until his white and grey pelt is soft and fluffy. I know it's going to mat once he's back in the battery case, though.

The muzzle over his maw is annoying to remove. It's a metal device with tubes that run down his nostrils and throat. To hold it in place, a hole is drilled through both his upper and lower jaws. The device is then fitted over his muzzle and a steel bolt threads through all the layers and screwed in place.

I reverse the process, starting with unscrewing the bolt. I pull it through the top of his snout and wipe the saliva that's dripping off it. He lets out a soft whimper. After that, I gently thread the tubes out of his mouth and nostrils as I remove the mask.

Now that I can see his face, he looks to be in his young twenties. What had he done to deserve such a sentence? I catch my thoughts and try not to imagine.

His breath reeks. I pull his lips apart to examine his teeth. Thankfully, none of them are decaying. I pry his jaws open, and I'm surprised to see a card in his mouth. It's soggy, and most of the ink has faded away. There's a hole in it from where the bolt was threaded through his maw.

Ugh, why is this here? I put it on the bench. I'll throw it away later.

I unwrap a new toothbrush and brush his fangs. With the liquid diet they're fed, I'm sure this is unnecessary. But again, you know me. Above and beyond.

As I brush his teeth, he shudders. I quickly check if it's because he's choking on his saliva. He isn't; he can breathe. He is just crying, with tears streaming down his face.

I resume my work. I make sure to brush at the hollow rivets that keep the holes in the jaws from healing close. I also clean around the scar where his tongue was removed.

After that, I re-thread the feeding and breathing tubes, and replace the muzzle. The bolt goes back in place. He's still crying, so I wipe away his tears.

"C'mon, don't cry already," I mumble. "You deserve this, you know." I say half-heartedly.

My eyes fall on the soggy card, and I take a closer look. It's a student pass dated 7 years ago. A student?

I make it a point to not to look up these criminals' backgrounds. Most of them have done horrible, horrible things. Murdered a whole family, raped a lady then set her on fire. The whole works.

But my curiosity got the better of me. I type his name into my lab computer: "Decro Castor" and the results came up.

"15-year-old boy missing. Last seen in school."

I click on the first article. A picture of the white wolf smiles back at me, a decade younger. The next few pictures are of his family. His mum is in tears. "Find my boy, I beg you," pleads the caption.

I step back. He's not supposed to be here. There might've been a mix-up, or maybe he was kidnapped and sold to a black market somewhere. Either way, this is messed up.

Fuck.

I examine the article. Planet Earth. That's at least 7 years away from here, and we're headed further away with each passing moment.

Ugh.

Surely I can get him back somehow. I check on my tablet and pull out his details. There's no name, of course, but I check his expiry date. God, his soul capacity isn't even worth this suffering. He's already 10 years into his measly 15 year soul capacity.

We're not making a stop by Earth for the next 40 years. I could get off the ship at the next transit point, maybe find a way to get him shipped back. But that's a huge hypothetical. Why would the captain go through all this trouble just to lose a perfectly good battery?

"Kevin, Kevin," I can hear his voice already. "Just put it back in the battery racks and forget about him."

There's no way I can smuggle him off the ship to get him home.

I bite my lip. Maybe his family has long accepted his death and moved on. Seeing him in this amputated, modified form would just bring up the bad memories all over again. With his half-drained soul and psyche, he wouldn't even be the Decro that they knew. He'd just be a burden.

I feel a bit better once I've rationalised this. I dab away the tears on the wolf's face. I lift up his body to put him back in the case, but he squirms feebly. A pitiful whine escapes his locked muzzle.

Dammit, fucking dammit.

I can't do this. The least I can do is to give him peace. I look into his eyes. Through his teary eyes, he looks back.

"Do you understand me?"

He looks confused.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" I repeat.

He doesn't seem to understand English, but it's also possible that he's taking a while to process. It's been years since he's had a chance to hear someone talk, so his language-processing might be a tad rusty.

His brows are furrowed. He really doesn't understand me, but he looks back with an intensity in his silver-blue eyes.

I almost want to take it all back. Just forget it and pack him up in his case. But I steel myself. This isn't for me; it's for him.

"You're not on planet Earth," I explain anyway. "And I can't get you back there. Even if I could, you wouldn't last the journey home." I swallow the saliva that had pooled in my mouth. "You won't make it back."

Even if he can't understand me, he can feel my emotions. His facial expression looks at me with sadness and concern.

"I wish I could, but this is out of my control. But what I can give you is peace, okay?"

Beneath the years of soul-draining etched across his weary face, I see his pure innocence. I'm conflicted, but this is for the best.

I tap on my tablet and type out the report. "Battery expired due to shock from being removed from the case. Requesting permission to dispose." I hit send.

Within seconds, the ship's central AI gave the approval. A replacement battery was already ordered, which we will pick up at the next space harbour.

I pick up the wolf and carry him to the garbage disposal unit. I slide open the panel and put him in the chamber within. He looks around in confusion, but he realises what I'm doing. He nods and closes his eyes.

"It'll be quick," I whisper, more for me than for him.

I close the lid shut and push the dispose button. There's a muffled clang as the hydraulic compactor did its job. The vacuum of space then sucked everything out into the void.

I say a prayer for him before collapsing into my chair. Through the glass window, I watch as a small sphere of compacted metal and white fur float by.

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~ End ~