Catherine woke from her slumber with a whimper. Opening her eyes, she stared at the dark ceiling above the bed, trying to figure out what it was that ruined her sleep. It didn’t take long since the reason presented itself in the form of another gut-punching pain. Hunger.
She’s hungry. So hungry that it woke her up from sleep after an exhausting day at work. Annoyed at her misfortune, Catherine shot a look at her husband, Mark. He was still sleeping and to her jealousy, he looked very comfortable. “Why can’t I sleep like that?” she grumbled before slipping out of bed.
The pain in her stomach was surprisingly sharp. There’s no mistaking it for anything else other than hunger. But still, it’s a bit weird since she had a full-course meal for dinner before going to sleep. And it’s only been a few hours. She shouldn’t be hungry at all let alone be in hunger pain. But clearly, her stomach begs to differ.
“Need to Eat,” it’s like a voice was telling her what she had to do.
Yes, I know I need to eat. That’s what people do when they are hungry; she muttered to herself. The hunger was not helping with her temper.
Without any lights, Catherine walked through the apartment effortlessly and found her way to the fridge. She’d lived here for the last seven years; she knew her way around. Opening the fridge door, she stood there for a few moments to consider. It’s 1am and there is nothing in the fridge that is ready to eat at the moment unless you consider bread. “Bread it is,” she mumbled and picked out the whole loaf before finding herself a seat at the table. It was not a very appetising meal but Catherine had to eat to shut out the pain in her stomach.
It’s not just the stomach though. There was something in her head that was forcing her to eat even the stale bread. It was a voice. It seemed like it came from the back of her mind but it was always difficult to locate the source. “Eat. Food is needed. Eat,” it kept saying as Catherine ate another slice.
The voice was the programming of a small chip that was planted in the back of her head.
Five years ago, Catherine was in a car crash. It was one of the worst ones, the kind that leaves people fatally wounded. And it did the same to her. Catherine was fatally wounded and her entire digestive system was mutilated. It could no longer function and she was barely kept alive with nutrient injections and life support.
It was not possible to transplant the entire digestive system. Nobody had ever heard of something like that. She was counting her days and ready to die when someone reached out to her.
It was a man in a suit. A representative of a company from another state that worked in research regarding medical equipment. They said that they had been developing a mechanical system that could work as a complete alternative to a human digestive system. It seemed too good to be true and like all things that are too good to be true, it came with a price. It wasn’t approved by any authority and was still in the development stage. They wanted to do human trials and asked Cathy if she wanted to give it a try since she would die anyway.
She said yes.
It was a difficult operation. Cutting out her existing mutilated digestive system and replacing it in its entirety with a mechanical one. Then another brain surgery to implant a small chip in her brain to maintain the mechanical system at her will and in sync with her body.
It was one of the best decisions of her life.
After the operation, Cathy recovered quickly. The mechanical system was very efficient, which meant that none of the nutrients were wasted and Cathy grew healthy soon. She even had a baby last year. Everything was perfect in Cathy’s life; except the annual visits to the research lab where they would test it every year to determine its efficiency and recommend any modifications.
Cathy had skipped this year’s visit. The company had reached out to her but she had refused another checkup. Legally, the company had no hold over her, and personally, Cathy loathed being confined in a room for the whole day as they ran tests on her. She’s been doing fine; she’s been doing better than fine and there’s no need for that anymore. Not in her mind anyway.
“Eat more,” said the voice in her head again. It’s too faint to be a voice. More like a small command.
The chip is the most complicated part of the entire system. It takes information from her organs such as her eyes, nose, and ears. Then it interprets it in terms of nutritious values cross-checks it with its internal programming and sends the results to the mechanical device in her stomach. The device runs it against its default algorithm which is to: Eat, digest, produce energy, repeat. Then it runs it with the secondary algorithms which are to: redigest, absorb nutrients, extricate, and repeat. Then it relays the result back to the brain chip. The brain chip then spits out commands such as – eat now. Or stop eating. Or don’t eat that, it has lesser nutritious value, etc.
Right now, there was only one command.
Eat more.
Eat more.
Eat more.
Catherine kept eating.
Suddenly there was a cry in the next room. It’s the baby. Something has woken the baby up. Catherine rushes to the baby. And interestingly, she takes the loaf of bread with her.
She picked up the baby, soothed it, and put it to sleep. Then, suddenly the pain in her stomach returned.
EAT. EAT. EAT.
The voice was back in her head.
Cathy put down the baby back in its crib and fumbled in the darkness for the loaf of bread.
She took a bite but could not swallow it this time; instead, she spat it out. As if disgusted by the taste.
“BAD FOOD. NUTRITIOUS VALUE LOW. NEED PROTEIN”, the voice spoke to her. She put the bread down and began to look around. Her eyes were frenzied, sparkling, even in the dark room. She looked around like a predator hunting for food. And her eyes landed on the baby.
FLESH. PROTEIN. SMALL. EASY TO DIGEST. TENDER.
Cathy stared at the baby silently for a moment. Her movements were like a zombie, her eyes expressionless, but calculated. Slowly, the mother walked towards the baby.