The Vending Machine - 5

They didn’t even sleep through the night. Around 4 am, a long wailing siren woke them up, followed by the warning on the public announcement system:

“Attention, attention! This is an emergency alert. A nuclear attack is imminent. Seek immediate shelter. This is not a drill. Repeat: Seek immediate shelter. Follow the emergency procedures. Stay away from windows and take cover underground if possible. Further instructions will follow. Stay tuned to this frequency for updates.”

“What the…? Nuclear attack?” Alice mumbled, shocked. “Let’s go to the shelter.”

“Yes, I’ll take the emergency radio, just in case” Ashton said, as they hastily put on some clothes. “Also, let’s see if the girls are up.”

They stopped by his charges’ rooms and collected them to go to the shelter together. The safety shelter was under the student center, about a ten-minute walk from the dorms. They ran to it. When they entered the shelter, almost all summer students who stayed on campus were already there, glued to the TV screen with the news channel.

“No need for emergency radio,” Ashton said to Alice, “obviously, the machine wanted us to get the picture.”

Apparently, during the night, all conflicts all over the world went into the extremely hot stage. No one could identify who started it and used nukes first, but several large cities were already hit with the tactical nuclear bombs: Moscow, Washington, Beijing, Istanbul, London, Paris, Dubai, Teheran, Delhi, Islamabad were all on fire.

Students in the shelter were shocked by a live report showing mushrooms rising over Seoul and Los Angeles. Millions of people perished in the explosions all over the world, and all populated areas were instructing their citizens to seek shelter. In the confusion of the global war, no one knew whose bombs flew where and who was on whose side. It was clear, however, that the attack on New York City was imminent.

“You were right, babe,” Ashton said to Alice, “it seems the machine is bent on killing billions of people to teach us the value of achieving lasting peace.”

“I wonder what’s the Atlantis role in this plan is,” Alice said.

Just as she finished the sentence, the news report from Atlantis came in, saying that the island is the only place on Earth that seems to have been intact and proof from radiation and destruction of the nuclear war. From the satellite view, it looked as if it was covered by some clear protective dome. The island was encircled by the yachts of the super-rich who tried to claim their place on it.

“That’s your answer,” Ashton said. “Atlantis will be the shelter for the rich. I have to undo this, babe.”

“At the cost of personal happiness?” Alice said quietly.

“There are no other options left, babe.”

“I know. I’ll go with you.”

They snuck out of the shelter, running through the overcast and gloomy campus and went to the dorm basement for the vending machine. When Ashton plugged it in, it had the familiar “to undo ‘achieve world peace,’ make another selection” command.

Ashton inserted a dime from his wallet. He’d started to collect dimes as well, just in case. He pushed the “personal happiness” dispenser, but nothing happened. Ashton turned the “return” lever, but the dime did not come out. The tag, however, changed for “not enough funds for the selection.”

“This is something new!” Ashton said and inserted another dime into the machine. Nothing happened again, and not “enough funds” message was still there. Ashton must have inserted at least 20 dimes when he ran out of money. Alice remembered that she had some dimes left in Ashton’s room and they went up there together. After they came back, they fed all the coins they had into the machine. But still nothing happened after Ashton put the last dime in.

“It seems to be stuck! And we have no more dimes!” Ashton said loudly and hit the “personal happiness” dispenser in frustration. Suddenly, the machine flipped the tag to “sold out.”

Both Ashton and Alice looked at the machine, completely shocked.

“What does this mean?” Ashton asked.

“I don’t know, babe, but no other options are be available. Maybe it’s the ultimate solution. No sense in staying here, let’s go to the shelter, to be with others,” Alice said.

“Right,” Ashton confirmed, unplugging the machine.

They must have spent at least an hour running between Ashton’s room and the basement to interact with the machine. When they came out into the street, it greeted them with the beautiful summer morning: not a cloud in the sky, birds chirping, and flowers blooming under the rising sun. They looked at each other and ran to the shelter. It was locked, with no traces of people there in a long time.

They went back to Ashton’s room and turned on the news. There was nothing extraordinary, just the usual global affairs and politics of a regular election cycle. Ashton googled up “Atlantis” and only mythical references came up.

“Was this all just a bad dream?” Alice asked.

“For both of us?” Ashton said. “I know how to check! Let’s go back to the basement, check if the machine is still there!”

“I don’t think I can do this, babe. Besides, I have a class in ten minutes,” Alice said.

“Ok, I’ll do it myself, go to your class, babe,” Ashton kissed Alice and went to the basement.

The machine was still there. Ashton plugged it in, and it flashed the “sold out” tag at him. He went around it, inspecting the machine. He already decided that it needs to be taken out of the basement so that no one else could come across it and get into its apocalyptic web of solutions. He just wanted to make sure that it would be disabled and nonoperational.

Ashton went back to his room and brought a hammer to it. He smashed all the dispenser tags and broke off the coin receptacle and return lever. He decided that he’d report it to maintenance later and went to his class.

After they both were done with classes for the day, Ashton told Alice about what he had done.

“I have a bad feeling about it,” Alice said. “Let’s go check on it.”

They went to the basement and saw that the machine was intact, exactly the way they left it together. Shocked, Ashton mumbled, “Does it have self-repairing ability?”

He plugged it in. The “sold out” tag lit up again.

“So, it is indestructible,” Alice said.

“Seems like it. How do I make sure no one else gets into its trap?” Ashton asked.

“What if we find a way to open it up and make sure that there no cans inside?” Alice suggested. “No cans, no selections.”

“That’s a great idea, we can try that…”

***

Ashton spent at least a week searching for and ordering various opening keys for the 1970s Coca-Cola vending machines. He was not sure which one would work, so he ordered several different ones from Ebay, Mercari, Amazon and other websites dealing in vintage stuff. When about ten of them arrived, he and Alice went to the basement again.

After trying several keys, Ashton managed to open up the machine. There were indeed no Coke cans in it. Ashton emptied out the coin receptacle.

“Seems like all our coins are here,” Alice said.

Ashton closed the machine and said, “Let’s disable it permanently.” He took sheers he brought with him and cut the power cord of the machine at its foot.

“That’s smart,” Alice said.

“I’ll throw the cord out later. Now I can report it to the maintenance so that they take it to a junk yard where no one will find it and hopefully it will be just recycled.”

***

A junk removal contractor Hofstra maintenance hired to remove the machine took it three days later. Ashton, who had to show the removal crew where the machine was, tried to communicate to them how important it was to take the machine to the junk yard, strictly per maintenance order. The crew promised to follow the instructions.

A day later, Billy, the owner of the junk removal service, was looking at the machine closely. He’d told his crew to unload it into his workshop and promised he’d take care of it himself. Billy knew that depending on their condition, these types of machines sold for 300-500 dollars to “everything vintage” enthusiasts and decided to inspect how operational it was.

After he connected a new power cord, Billy plugged the machine into the outlet. He noticed that the light under one of the dispensers came on. Excited, he ran to his upstairs office to find a dime…

~ The End ~

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.

Part 4 is here, other parts are chain-linked to each other. I will also create an index story for easier navigation.