The Vending Machine - 4

Perplexed, Ashton found a news channel on his computer and watched the following report:

“Breaking news: No More Pandemics!

Lead: In a stunningly unanimous decision, the World Health Organization resolved to use the resurfaced Atlantis as the global quarantine site for all sick people from all over the world [aerial images of the beautifully luscious new continent covered in thick Amazon-like forests, with semi-finished housing and a pier]. Everyone who is diagnosed with or suspected of having any type of a viral infection will be sent to the Atlantis for isolation and treatment. The United States and China took the initiative of arranging for the transportation of the infected to the Atlantis, where they will spend as much time as needed to be cleared for reintegration into the society. All the governments of the world are wasting no time identifying all people who as much as cough or run a mild fever and sending them by sea to the Atlantis for testing and isolation [images of police forces in large cities and small towns all over the world rounding up the sick, putting them on the busses and boarding them onto chartered cruise and military ships with American and Chinese flags]. To improve global health by identifying everyone who may be infected, WHO instituted a 2-thousand-dollar reward to everyone who will report or bring in a potentially sick person.”

Ashton’s heart sank. He already knew where this solution was going. He went to meet Alice from her class and told her about what he saw on the news.

“I know,” Alice said dryly, “we watched the reports in class. It’s awful.”

“Are you alright? You seem to be…”

“What? Mad?” Alice snapped. “I am indeed mad. You know that this is not a solution to all pandemics. It will get worse if it is not stopped.”

“Are you mad with me???” Ashton asked in disbelief.

“Yes! Why did you have to buy that damn Coke? What are the options left there, the world peace and personal happiness?”

“Yes,” Ashton said. “But you realize that if it wasn’t me who found that vending machine, someone else would have?”

“You might be right,” Alice said softer, “but what do we do now? Wait for millions of people to die from some mysterious virus?”

“I’ll stop it right away by undoing it.”

“Yes, by selecting either ‘world peace’ or ‘personal happiness’? Can you even imagine what the machine’s idea of world peace would be? Killing all humans who wage war? That is, basically all of us! As for personal happiness, I can see how it might give you that: You are only perfectly happy when you are dead. I don’t wanna lose you, babe!”

“Oh, baby, I don’t think it will go that far. We are still here.”

“Yes, and running out of selections. I’m just so worried, it seems like every next ‘solution’ in this machine is worse than the previous one.”

“Anyway, let’s give it a day or so. Perhaps the pandemic one will not be as bad as the others.”

***

Bad news started coming early in the morning. The ships that carried the coughing ones to the Atlantis were packed like sardines in tin cans, ideal for spreading infections around. Those who had only a mild cough developed full-blown fever and other serious symptoms like nausea, diarrhea, and headaches. By the time the ships arrived, many passengers could not walk on their own and had to be deboarded with special cranes.

On the Atlantis, WHO staff in hazmat suits could not handle the volume of testing and treatment to be done. They had to separate the housing development into different zones: mildly sick, moderately sick, and gravely sick. The arriving ships had virtually no mildly sick, and those areas were quickly redesignated for moderate to grave. In closed quarters and with so many people on the island, various infections spread like wildfire.

First deaths started to occur already on the first day. There was no specially designated service to bury the corpses, so WHO staff was just putting them in a make-shift morgue. The situation was getting out of control as the WHO medics did not have enough supplies, equipment, and hands to handle all the new arrivals.

Many of them were deboarding with hand-made signs saying “I only coughed to clear my throat,” “Yesterday I had common cold, today – COVID,” and “Debbie, I hope your reward money was worth my death.” Every patient on the Atlantis knew that they were all doomed and they communicated it with hand-made signs they wrote out, including the last messages to the loved ones, “We are not getting out of here alive.” The cameras installed all over the island broadcast everything to the outside world and a meme flash mob with various signs from the Atlantis started to circulate on the Internet.

Ashton was busy all day with classes and RA meetings and didn’t check the news. To be more exact, he was afraid to look as he knew that whatever he could imagine in his head would be much worse in reality. He was not wrong. Alice called to say that she’d stay in her dorm room, still mad at him for some reason, so Ashton went to bed early.

During the night, so many people died on the Atlantis that the bodies had to be laid in rows right on the shore in one area of the island. It had to be expanded every hour.

In the morning, Alice came to Ashton’s room and woke him up, “Did you see the news?”

“Not yet,” Ashton said, half asleep. “Is it bad?”

“Horrifying,” Alice said while he powered up his computer. In a minute, they were watching the news reports together.

With the situation on the Atlantis deteriorating quickly during the night, the ships delivering the sick had to bring tents for make-shift reception and testing areas. From the bird’s eye, the Atlantis shores looked like they were belted with the rows of tents. Except for the area where the dead had been laying in rows on the sand, there was a make-shift crematorium now, with the smoke bellowing out of its ovens working non-stop.

“Oh my God, from a concentration camp to the crematorium in one night!” Ashton said, horrified. Alice was just watching, covering her mouth with the right hand and tears streaming down her cheeks.

“I have to undo this!” Ashton said, rushing to the basement.

“Wait, I’m going with you,” Alice caught up with him and waived a little plastic bag with 10-cent coins. “You’ll need the dimes!

When they got to the vending machine, Ashton wanted to select “personal happiness.” Alice stopped him and said, “wait, given what the machine does, I don’t think this will bring you any happiness.”

“I know, babe. But as we discussed, the world peace might be even worse. I’m ready to sacrifice my personal happiness to avoid another global calamity.”

“How about sacrificing your life?” Alice said.

“I don’t think it would get there, but if it does, I’m ready!” Ashton said with a bravado.

“But I’m not ready to lose you!” Alice said, now crying again.

“Babe, you are not going to lose me, I promise! I don’t think the machine is that evil. Give me a dime, please. If it gets really bad, like if it gives me some sort of a terminal disease or makes me wheelchair-bound from some accident, I give you the permission to roll me in here and undo the selection for the world peace. No more options, right?”

Alice smiled faintly and gave him a dime, “I’m so scared!”

“Me too, babe, to be honest, but I really have no choice now, do I?”

Ashton put the dime in and pushed the “personal happiness” dispenser tag. Instead of releasing a can, the machine changed the tag into “make another selection.”

“See, you have nothing to worry about yet,” Ashton said, hugging Alice. “Seems like the machine is bound on running through all selections before letting me get to the personal happiness, whatever it is in its understanding.”

Ashton pushed the “achieve world peace” dispenser tag and a Coke can rolled out. He picked it up and said, “Let’s get it over with.” Then he downed the can, unplugged the machine and they went back to his room. They decided to spend the night in Ashton’s room, to face whatever disaster was to happen next morning together.

Credit: This story is inspired by a 1972 short comedy film “The Vending Machine” written and directed by John Ewing, a long-time director of Cinematheque of the Cleveland Institute of Art.

Previous part is here, earlier ones are linked at the end of each part as well.