CHAPTER 1 - Fatosuction

On the late night shift of George McKenzie's part-time job as a health centre
receptionist for Fatosuction, he sits and watches the half-full waiting room of
desperate men and women trying to have a higher quality of life - the dullness creeps
over George with boredom, inexpensive furniture from decades ago slowly dying as
time passes, evidence of years of neglect show in the unloved walls and ceilings as
cracks and stains form, it's a room your mind can only master for a few short hours.

Fatosuction, located underground away from the prying eyes of the law and their
drones, is not exactly legal. Desperate people wait to see Doctor Peter Haggard, well
that is what it says on his fake licence framed on the wall. Peter is not a real doctor, he
has learned everything through trial and error from the dark web university platform.
Anyone can become a doctor nowadays.

George has never actually met Doctor Peter Haggard, he wishes to stay anonymous
because of the illegal service he provides, the only interaction he has with him is a
flashing red light that is on his bland, white reception desk. The light is to ask for a
patient to go on through.

George doesn't know what happens to the patients once they pass the strong, steel
metal door into the operation room, there is a second exit as if the patients were on a
carousel, passing through a factory machine, being made into a product that will
please others.

The red light flashes, George calls the next patient, "Simon Humphrey, Doctor
Haggard will see you now," he watches as the man heaves himself out of the faded
red plastic chair and slowly waddles over towards the door, clenching his breathing
device, struggling with every step. Above the door of the operation room shows a
faded sign that reads 'Fatosuction, changing bodies for longer lives', along with before
and after pictures of previous patients, there haven't been any updated pictures in a
while. George has stopped wondering why these people gotten so grossly fat long
ago, with the rise of Nancho.Inc, a food technology company that allows you to print
edible 3D food from your home for half the price of regular food, at the same time
there was also a rise in black market suction businesses, people got too fat too fast.

With George being a 21 years old man, he only does this job for the extra money that
it provides on his card, there is no such thing as physical money anymore. George
gulps down his energy drink to give him the buzz to get through the next few hours of
this monotonous job, an hour passes since the last patient went through the doors, and
the red light flashes to tell George to send in the next patient, "Patricia Miles, Doctor
Haggard will see you now." If fatness doesn't kill you, the boredom of this job will.

After finishing his shift the morning sun has arrived, George heads over to the food
truck for breakfast that sits under the railway bridge near his home, he is to meet Eden
Lexus, his rather smart and beautiful forbidden girlfriend. Eden is from the other side
of the wall, it splits the poor and the rich so as not to upset the wealthier people living
their perfect little lives. The rich are allowed to enter the poor lands if they so wish,
but the same right isn't afforded to the poor unless they have special permission.

"Hey babe, how was work?" Eden says with delight at seeing George.
"Boring as usual." his shoulders slumped down, staring at a bit of trash on the floor.
"Aw, don't worry, this is my treat. What do you want?"
"Egg on toast, please, with extra chips."

Dancing litter flies around the streets like acrobats, the steam billowing from
underground drains drench the senses of sewage from below their feet. Men and
women shuffle along in their hand-me-down clothing, leaning against shutters and in
doorways of times gone by, high off their heads with crack; the traffic is still and
congested as honking resembles the anger of people stuck as the seconds of their life
tick by, passengers abandoning their driverless cars, it is faster to walk.

Eden sits opposite George with her black hood up covering her mousey brown hair;
the two have to keep their relationship a secret; if Eden's family ever knew she is
dating George he would most certainly disappear, her father is the director of 'Lunar
Cooperation UK,' a technological manufacturer for devices that get sent to the
colonies on the moon, basically, a very powerful man. Eden fell for George because
of his charm, he isn't like the men in the richer communities, he is not full of vanity
and thinks he is better than everyone around him.

Eden has news for George that will change their relationship forever, as George is
munching on the delicious egg, the yolk running down the stubble on his chin, Eden
takes a deep breath and says,

"They have accepted me."

"Huh?" - Munching on the contents of the egg.

"The university, you know 'Artex', they have accepted me onto their AI science
program."

George didn't know if he should be happy or upset, he was happy that she has gotten
onto her dream course, a dream that has aspired from when she first saw a humanoid
robot on stage at the age of 12, but by Eden accepting the course, she will have to
move away to London, very far from the suburbs of northern England.

"Well done love, I am proud of you," George says, wrapping his arms around her, a
little taken aback by the news. "You're my little brainy box."

As midday approaches, Eden heads back to the richer compound, better known as
"Central Manchester"; George lives in a neighbourhood just on the other side of the
dull, grey, concrete wall, he has a great view of the decorated slabs that have been
rooted into the ground, coloured with abusive graffiti.

'Rich scum' 'Thieves of humanity'

- 'Dirty money for dirty minds'

It is not wise to stay outside during midday, the temperatures are too hot at this time,
especially on sunny days. You can suffer from a heat stroke if you do anything too
strenuous, 'siestas' have become the norm for most of the world.

George lives in what they call a 'box flat' with his father; the room is barely big
enough for the two of them, feeling like a caged animal, the room with its low
technological furniture is hardly spacious, you squeeze and stretch over items to get
by, the low ceiling and fractured floor reminds you how far down the food chain you
are, like a bug that has only one purpose in life, to be food for something else. Even
the toilets and showers are communal, shared with the other tenants at the end of the
corridor, you feel dirtier than when you went in, slipping on the dried soap on the tiled
floors, seeing long strands of hair stuck to the wall, the mould in the corner of the
shower room is growing and becoming a living tenant.

George's father, Albert, works two jobs to help keep them above water, during the
day he works at the incinerator plant and during the night, he is a security guard for a
power plant, this is where he normally falls asleep on the job. He only comes home on
Sundays when he has a day off from both employers.

When George gets home, he tidies the pot noodles strewn around the place, puts them
into a black suction bag and carries it down to the garbage shoot at the end of the
long, dimly lit corridor.

Feeling like its very own community, the people of the corridor chat and gather and
feed one another; everyone looks out for each other, though it is not their actual
profession the corridor has its cooks, cleaners, doctors and police officers, Ms Tame is
the corridors granny, an elderly lady who cuddles and advises you. The corridor is
used for the extra space that the box flats do not provide.

George walks past the Yen family, the Yen are a family of immigrants that came to
England after the Chinese uprising a few years ago, they claimed asylum and the
government put them here. Mrs Yen is a middle-aged woman who sometimes cooks
for George and Albert delicious Chinese dishes, a few days before she cooked beef
stew, noodles and dumplings, the smell lingered in the corridor for most of the day.
Mr Yen, a former vet and revolutionist back in China, is a cleaner for the student
complex at Grumpston College, a run-down, low-profit educational building for the
poorer class, or as George puts it, a place where dumb people can feel important. Mr
Yen and the family escaped execution from the Chinese government by crossing into
India and sneaking onto a ship bound for England.

Upon returning to his room, he lies down on his bed and holds up a picture of his dear
mother, she passed away about two years ago by suicide; she found a way to get up on
the roof of the building, I suppose she wanted to make sure it was going to work,
nobody knows why she did it, but she did. It broke Albert for a long time, but now he
has to carry out two jobs just to stay afloat. Albert often asks George to get a full-time
job, but George still can't find anything decent, with unemployment being so high, he
is lucky to have the crappy part-time job he has now at Fatosuction.
'Crime is always an option I suppose', George usually thinks to himself, following the
influencers on the social media platforms, there is no way they got rich the legal way,
some of them grew up in the same area as George.

A lot of the people in the area blame the migrant workers for taking the jobs of the
poor, George blames the population of the human race and the lack of jobs that are
provided, with 10.8 billion people in the world and other problems, it was a good
guess.

George takes out his mobile phone and expands it by pulling slightly on the edges, the
trending topic on the internet is about the supposed environmental group 'Doomsday.'

Members of the Doomsday group can be found all over the world, they are in both the
rich and poor communities, they could be anyone, from the leader of a country to
even Mr Yen down the corridor, but George doubts that. People classify them as a
low-level terrorist group that has an agenda of lowering the human population to save
the planet. "We are the virus" is a slogan that they preach and spray paint on
government walls.

Other news that George scrolls past includes:

> More local people missing: they are all obese.

> The Boxing Virus has spread to over 90% of the African continent, and 60% of
Europe.
> Russian president Matvei refuses to communicate with American president Robert
Jr. War is Imminent.
> Less fish in the ocean, should we be worried?

George tries to not focus on the news too much, it is a constant stream of depression;
he is still distracted by the news that Eden had shared with him that morning, he
couldn't bear not seeing Eden for a prolonged time, love is the only thing that keeps
him going in a world that seems so heartless. George thinks back to the day he first
met Eden, he still can't believe that in a world so segregated, they had the chance to
start something special.

Three Years Ago

A way that people find love these days are through dating apps, the whole thing of
meeting someone spontaneously and getting to know them fell out of fashion in the
early 21st century. There is an app for all desires. There are apps for the gays, the
straights, the handicapped, the rich, the poor and even swinger apps that have risen in
popularity; the app that George met Eden was called 'Forbidden Love'.

Forbidden Love provides people to find each other in secret, two people who
shouldn't be together such as the rich and the poor can secretly meet up away from the
knowledge of (mostly the rich) family. George was scrolling through one day, not
getting any matches, that was until he came across Eden.

They hit it off straight away as Eden wrote first. George has always found it difficult
in starting conversations on these apps. They decided to meet up in secrecy. Eden had
to make the trip over the wall to the poor side because she has the right to do so. They
met out in public at first, the crime rate in the poor area has skyrocketed in recent
years and many people like to take the chance of robbing a rich person or even worse,
holding them for ransom.

For the first hour, there was no touching, Eden is very respectful of herself and she
doesn't want to be manhandled by a guy she just met, they kept their conversations
short and sweet.

"So, are you hungry?", George asks, hoping she will say yes as he hasn't had the
chance to eat breakfast just yet.

"Yeah, I can go for something to eat."

"Great, I know a nice little restaurant down the road."

The place George had in mind, an Indian restaurant that had very stereotypical cheap
furniture. The senses are submerged in the spices that linger in the air, tickling your
nostrils and the back of your throat, ear drums beat to the sounds of mother India,
giving off the impression that you are a world traveller. Whilst enjoying the dishes,
you can be sure an ornament of Krishna or Ganesha are welcoming you to their
humble abode. The owner is a British-born Indian, and his family have had nothing to
do with India for two generations. They came over in the hype of Britain becoming a
multicultural nation.

Back in those days, there were more mosques and temples than there were churches,
Britain seriously flipped its ideologies and old-aged traditions. These days, religion is
practically non-existent. As if God or the Gods refuse to step foot in England.

After tucking into some tandoori chicken and biryani, Eden kept a thought to herself
about the dish. 'This isn't real food, it is one of those 3D printing devices from
Nancho.Inc, it is a little bland, over-covered with spices to hide the lies. We have the
real food on the other side of the wall.'

She didn't dare to tell George this, she didn't want to make him feel bad, you could see
he was trying. After a wonderful afternoon with each other, they had to split for the
day. Eden's family didn't know that she had passed over to the other side of the wall,
she is normally restricted unless she is with her father or her uncle.

They said their goodbyes just down the road from the checkpoint, it was at this
moment they had their first contact, a hug.

George drifts off to sleep with this memory in his mind, the clicking fan above his
head barely pushing away the heat that engulfs the stiffness of the warm, windowless
room.

The next evening, George signs in to work using an old-fashioned pencil and pharos
paper (a substance that feels like paper, but is not. Society tries to avoid the cutting
down of trees), the whole thumb scanning to sign in isn't available at Fatosuction, this
is to avoid a digital trail that can fall into the hands of the authority. George drags his
feet through the waiting room to meet Petriz, a colleague of George's, she normally
does the day shift at the reception desk.

"A'right George?", Petriz asks, twirling her blonde hair whilst chewing her 'Forever
Flavour Gum', this is a standard for Petriz, she is always chewing gum.

"Good evening Petriz, I am fine, how was work today?"

"It was a'right….".

She is never one for long conversations.

As George sits in his chair, he checks to see how many people have booked an
appointment tonight, he scans the paper but only sees one name.

"Thomas Thomas", he whispers to himself. '

'What a strange name.'

He isn't due for another two hours, so George makes himself busy by walking to the
coffee machine in the break room. As he presses the button for the black coffee to
pour into the mug, he looks up at the ticking clock. 'Tick, tick, tick', this is going to be
a long night, it is barely 9 o'clock, and his shift finishes at 5:30 in the morning.

Again, sitting at the desk that causes his buttocks to numb and his brain to paralyze,
he scans the waiting room - still empty. Time stands still in this monotonous cocoon
below the streets, dated posters flimsily stick to the wall, the same posters George has
read over a thousand times:

'Life is short, let us make it longer.' 'Fatty hips, Fatosuction can help'.

Supported with a picture of an overjoyed family or a man wearing his old sweat
trousers, images that were copied and pasted from other organisations.

It is just about to approach midnight, the due time for Thomas Thomas to enter the
door.

00:00 - Thomas Thomas doesn't come.

00:10 - Doesn't come.
00:30 - Doesn't come.
01:00 - Doesn't come.

"Where the hell is he?" George says to himself. It was the only little bit of excitement
that was going to happen and it didn't happen. George looks for a number to call and
dials the number into the phone. It starts to ring.

As George listens to the ringing, he realises that a sound is overlapping from behind
the entrance door. As he slowly approaches the door, the sound stops.

"Huh?", confusion spreads across his face.

"Mr Thomas, are you there?", George calls out but doesn't receive any response.
George pushes the door but it doesn't budge, he tries to push it a little more.
'Something is blocking it', he thinks to himself, his mind stating the obvious. George
pushes it enough to squeeze his head around the door, to his surprise he sees Thomas
Thomas, lying on the floor, hand held up close to his chest, no signs of life in his eyes.

Thomas Thomas was a grossly large man, looking at the mass of his gut, he must
weigh close to 1000 lb which again is quite normal nowadays. George rushes his head
back through the door and takes a step back, holding his hand up to his mouth, trying
to catch a breath after having the shock of seeing a lifeless body. It's not the first time
George has seen death, execution videos are vastly available online, sometimes it was
part of late evening entertainment to see some criminal executed, he and his friends
gather around with beer to watch as heads roll or as electricity rushes through the
body of a murdering rapist. It was to discourage people from committing crimes as
the crime rate has gone so high.

But, this is different, George has never seen one up so close.

A little confused about what the protocol is for someone dying on the premises, he
hesitates to go through the door to talk to Dr Peter Haggard, but he has been told to
never walk through those doors as he doesn't want to be seen.

"What choice do I have?", George mutters to himself as he runs towards the operation
room. He pushes the door ever so slightly, not enough to peek inside, but enough to
get his voice through to Dr Haggard's ears.

"Dr Haggard, we have an emergency!", he shouts.

"Dr Haggard, are you there?", he shouts again.

There is no reply coming from the operation room, so George pushes the door slightly
more. The room is completely dark, only a small light can be seen in the corner of the
room, over a desk, littered with old-fashioned human anatomy books.

'Dr Hag------"

The door flies open and standing before George is a short, skinny man, roughly about
5ft 4, with thick black hairy arms, wearing a white overcoat with some blood stains
and a plain white mask that covers the entirety of his head.

"What's wrong?", Dr Haggard barks at George, gripping strongly onto the door.

"Um uh it's uh"

"Spit it out boy, what's wrong?"

"It's uh, Tho uh, Mr Thomas sir", George couldn't string along a full sentence, the
presence of Dr Haggard is for some reason, frightening.

"He is dead, on the other side of the door." George points in the direction of the entry
doors. Dr Haggard looks in the direction of the door and stands in silence for a
moment, he slowly starts to walk over to the door and gives it a push, putting his head
around the corner to get a better look. George watches the doctor's every movement,
emotions flying around his body from the sight of the dead man and seeing Dr
Haggard for the first time.

Dr Haggard finishes observing the body of Mr Thomas, turns and looks at George
who is innocently standing in the same place he was moments ago.

"I am going to make a phone call, you can go home."

George, without hesitation, grabs his coat and heads for the door where Mr Thomas's
body is lying cold dead on the bottom of the concrete stairs. Dr Haggard stares as
George squeezes through the gap in the door, George is trying to avoid making eye
contact with the corpse lying just next to him. George runs up the stairs with ease,
skipping a step at a time.

The night is still young, and George wants to put his mind to rest, so he heads to a pub
called 'The Bloodhound' an old-fashioned English pub that likes to keep traditional
with homely furnishings and folk music playing in the background, it even has a dog,
a British bulldog that passes from table to table, eating scraps and getting its tummy
rubbed from the patrons. George orders a pint of cheap lager that tastes more like
carbonated urine, it is made by the owner in the cellar below as alcohol is in short
supply and super expensive; the percentage is high enough to knock you off your feet
after two to three glasses. He finds a quiet corner to ponder the events of the night.
His mind is so lost in his little world that he almost doesn't notice his two friends
Daniel and Jack speaking to him.

"Hello, Earth to George,” says Jack, waving his hand in front of George's eyes.

George snaps back into his body and jumps at the sight of Daniel and Jack.

"Alright, guys?" he says with surprise.

"Where were you then?", Daniel says.

"I hope somewhere nice," Jack squeezes in whilst sitting at the table with one elbow
on its surface and a hand pushing against his cheek.

Daniel and Jack are old-school friends of George, they are always together, and you
hardly ever see them apart. They always buy the trendiest clothes from the 'Hand-Me-
Down' store; clothes donated by the rich to help the unfortunate. George tells them
everything that had happened earlier that night, finally seeing Dr Haggard and most
importantly, witnessing the body of Thomas Thomas.

"Thomas Thomas, what kinda name is that?", Jack sniggering into his glass, gulping
his lager.

"That's not important!", George snaps back, trying to keep their attention.
George is still shaking from seeing Thomas Thomas, he holds his hand to try and stop
the tremor, he orders another lager. 'I think I need to get pissed,' George thinks to
himself. He is curious about how they will remove Thomas Thomas, he was huge.

After one more drink, George wishes his friends a good night and slowly makes his
way back home; a drone passes flashing its red and blue light heading to a crime. The
streets are dangerous at this time of night. Pickpockets, murderers, rapists, prostitutes
and con men aren't even hiding in the shadows, they are out in the open, not caring
who is around to see them committing their crimes. The police have sent out a lot
more drones these days because the police are struggling to keep up.

"Hey baby, looking for a good time?", a prostitute asks, rubbing her hand across his
shoulder and down his arm, wearing skimpy clothing not leaving anything to the
imagination.

"Come with me down the alley," says another prostitute, this one a transexual with all
the features of a woman but with a perfectly trimmed beard and a wig.

As usual, George just ignores them and keeps his head down until he reaches his
estate. Hovering outside the main door to the block of flats are a group of young men,
similar to George's age, they are talking whilst smoking an E-cigarette.

"Ey up lads, look who it is! the tallest one shouts, covering his acne riddled face with
a hood.

George can't ignore them, they are blocking his only passage into the building.

The men are part of a small pick pocketing gang that wreaks havoc in the local area,
they work for a man called 'The Boss' who orders them out every night and then gives
them money depending on the value of the item they have stolen. They know that
George is not worth stealing from, he lives in the same building as them, he has
nothing of value, and even his phone is outdated.

They can always afford the newest clothes, the gang has connections with a local
merchant from the rich area, he comes into the poor community for 'The Boss' to
purchase items, and the gang gets a discount of course.

George walks toward his flat door, the other residents have bolted up for the night,
and the only sound present is a baby's wail that echoes down the long green corridor.
Upon entering his flat, it is in complete darkness, he flicks the lights, illuminating the
small box room to find his father, Albert, sleeping in the bed on the lower bunk. He is
in deep sleep with his snore rumbling towards George's eardrums. Albert moves his
slightly overweight body to become more comfortable in his rather small for his size
bed.

George is immediately comforted by having the presence of his father, due to Albert's
horrendous working hours, he hardly ever gets to see his father, and the loneliness can
become unbearable. George sits at the end of his father's bed, slowly ducking his head
not to bump it against the frame of his bed above, he places his hand on the lump of
his father's feet. A tear slips from his eye as he falls back and leans against the wall.
George slowly falls asleep at the bottom of his father's bed, just needing a bit of
comfort from a loved one can lift his spirit in a world that has no feelings.

The next day, George is standing across the road from the stairs that lead underground
to his place of work. He still can't believe what he saw only the night before. He
notices that he has four missed calls from Eden, he didn't want to talk to her for a
moment, she has her own life going on, and he promised himself he will call her later
in the day and explain what has happened. As George heads down the steps, he wants
to see if there is any evidence of the events of last night, it all felt so unreal. As he
approaches the spot where Thomas Thomas' body lay, there was no evidence that it
was even there, not that George was expecting his body to be there at all. George tries
the door to Fatosuction, but it is locked, he checks the time to see it is only 8:13,
Fatosuction will open at two.

Later that afternoon, George calls Eden to make up for the missed calls that he has
had from her.

"Hey babe, sorry for missing your calls," George says in a soft tone.

"Where the hell have you been? I have been worried sick!"

Eden knows of the dangers in the poorer communities, people go missing or murdered
regularly, and she couldn't bare it if something happened to George.

"Don't worry, I am fine. Sorry for worrying you,"

"Well, where were you then? I have been calling you since last night!"

"I just had a thing at work, I uh I witnessed something that knocked me back a bit"

"What did you witness?" - Eden's tone lowered slightly at the sudden change in
conversation.

" I saw a dead body, one of our patients collapsed outside our front door last night, I
think he had a heart attack, but I am not sure."

The silence was on the other side of the phone, Eden did not speak.

"Eden, are you there? Babe?"

Eden did not reply, when George went to look at his phone he can see that his phone
has completely died, his reflection staring back at him.

"Shit," he says to himself as he puts it back in his pocket.

He heads back home to go and recharge, he needs his phone for the night shift at
Fatosuction later that night, he couldn't imagine sitting at that reception desk with
nothing to entertain himself, it is a job that makes you forget a thing like fun.
As George is sitting at the reception desk of Fatosuction, he stares towards the
direction of the front door, the death of Thomas Thomas has played on his mind. He
pans the room looking at the two other patients who are sitting inside, one of them sits
slouching in the chair with her eyes closed, he watches her to see if there are any vital
signs of life, she does a back throat snore, causing her to wake… she is alive.

George looks down at his belly and feels the flab around his hips and waistline that is
forming into a soft cushion. 'I won't end up like these people' he thinks to himself,
determined to make some life changes. But on a poor man's wage, he has no choice
but to eat the crappy Nancho.Inc food, it is affordable, the organic food is mostly
distributed to the wealthy.

With the way the world is, it is hard for everyone on the planet to get a decent meal,
with the effects of climate change, mass population, pollution and the rising sea levels
washing away agricultural lands, there is simply not enough food on the planet for
everybody. Earth is a dying planet.

'We are a virus', George thinks to himself, reminded of the quote from the wacky
environmental protesters that have plagued human society, Doomsday.

'Bash' the front doors swings open with police officers in their heavy armoured
uniform; bulletproof vests, gas mask, knee shades, elbow shades, they mean business.
George stands up immediately and raises his hands in the air -

"Woowha the fu-"

"GET DOWN! ON THE GROUND!" the irate police officers shout at different times,
pointing green laser guns at George's racing heart.

"Ok ok!" George complies.

George lies down on the floor whilst another officer presses his knee down on
George's spine, feeling as if his spine is about to snap in half, he is hauled to his feet
and taken outside to the heavy-duty police van.

As he is being pushed up the stairs, blinded by the flashing blue and red lights along
with the bright white gun torches, he could hear a gunshot coming from the operation
room, as George turns to look another officer drags his arm, causing him to fall on the
step grazing his knee. It was a single shot.

The police van is cold and metallic, a small window of the outside world reminds you
that you are not a free man, a heavily suited guard sits there at all times whilst,
holding an automatic weapon, and a cage separates you from them as the tang of the
electrified gates closes behind.

"You are under arrest for the murder of multiple persons and the distribution of
human flesh, anything you do say will be used against you in the court".
George sits dumbfounded as the charges are read out to him. The van turns briskly
into the traffic, blaring the sirens on their way to the police station. George is sitting in
his cage, confused.