Dental Insurance

             Marilyn Sapp stared through the high-rise window of her corner office, 35 stories above the streets of the city. The low-hanging grey clouds that straddled the skyline appeared to lay a weighted hush on the activity below and she could feel the heaviness of the storm approaching. Today was the next step in her march toward domination of the nanotech sector of the economy. The composure that graced her face concealed the ethical dilemma that hung over the atmosphere of Nanobiotics Inc. as she waited patiently for the senior engineer, Jim Benson, to update her on the latest test trials.

            Sapp had designed the first micro-machines that were capable of self-repair, and more importantly, replication. The uses for the machines ranged from maintaining plumbing systems for the city’s waste water management to rebuilding complete parts for machines on assembly lines. Since the technology had enjoyed such a high level of success in the industrial sectors, Sapp felt the next logical step for the company would be to design systems that could manage in organic life forms. The first trials proved to be highly efficient and tests on lab animals proved to be consistently effective. The next phase would include using a human subject in order to prepare the system for mass production. Sapp imagined the dismay the dentistry field would experience as their services were rendered obsolete by the machines. After all, she had spent a the entirety of two student loan installments fixing her teeth in graduate school, so she felt a twinge of pleasure through her consideration.

            From her desk, the conference phone beeped. After clicking the accept button, she shuffled her hand through her grey hair.

            “Yes?” She examined the device as if it contained a secret.

            “Benson here,” he spoke clearly and deliberately. “We’ve completed the latest test runs and you’ll be pleased. The results show a point zero one percent chance of error and we’ve yet to observe any anomalies. The systems are ready and all we’re waiting for is news from above to continue.” Benson stalled in anticipation.

            “Proceed to the next phase. Our lawyers have drawn up all the paperwork and I’ve interviewed the applicant personally. There shouldn’t be any interference from here on out.” Sapp considered something for a moment and added, “Just keep everything quiet. We don’t want to rattle the protesters. There’s already too much heat rising from the streets and you do remember how quickly things can burn.”

            “Yes ma’am, the monkey trials did kick up a lot of dust, but I’m confident that the current team will practice tighter discretion. I’ll notify you when the preparations are finalized and the applicant arrives.” Benson’s voice disappeared as Sapp clicked End.

           

            Imogene Bradstreet had been on death row for 12 years, 6 months, and 5 days before representatives from Nanobiotics contacted her. She was jailed for the murder of her husband, who, she had discovered quite by accident, had been molesting her 4 and 6 year old daughters. Upon catching him with his pants down, literally, she bashed his head in with a bedside lamp. The jury had been sympathetic, but the letter of the law prevailed and she was sentenced to execution by lethal injection. She entered the meeting room dressed in a drab blue jumpsuit and grey plastic sandals. Her ragged hair was piled on top of her head and held in place with two pencils that crisscrossed in the tangled mass. The company had met with local officials and convinced them to strike a deal with the inmate. If she would consent to three trials, she would be released from death row and even offered a chance of parole. She sat directly across from a woman who introduced herself as CEO of a company that produced microscopic robots. After a lengthy exchange of personal histories, Marilyn Sapp wrapped up the interview.

            “You understand there is a small margin for error, but our analysts are at the top in the field and they have assured me that the final trial should go smoothly. If something does go wrong, you have my word that you will be compensated.” Sapp studied the lines in the woman’s face. Years of prison had tempered her features, yet deep lines etched her forehead and worry seemed to crinkle at the space between her eyelids and the bridge of her nose.

            “Anything is better than this hell hole. I ain’t got nothin left to do but sit and wait to die anyway. I’m grateful for this chance to be useful again.” Small tears squeezed from Imogene’s ducts but she repressed them in time to avoid an outburst.

            “Good, then tomorrow we can proceed.” Cass stood up and extended her hand, which was gracefully grasped by Imogene. “Best of luck to you, and I will see you after the trial.”

            Imogene Bradstreet thanked her once more and returned to her cell. She figured the final trial would be a snap since the first two went flawlessly. They just shined a concentrated beam of light on a couple parts of her body and scars that she had for years were reconstructed into skin and “healed” as if there had never been an injury. They explained to her, in much too much detail, how the dental machines would be a little bit different. More would be required to reconstruct something as dense as teeth, but not to worry, they would monitor her and terminate the process immediately should anything go awry. She figured since she was marked for a premature death to begin with, being a human guinea pig could not be any worse. Besides, there was the possibility of freedom and that outweighed any reservations she might have conjured.        

            The thick, ash-colored clouds that spread through the sky sputtered droplets that dotted the window as Sapp turned toward the elevator. As she entered the pod, crackled bursts of lightning flashed in the distance and the rain had slanted and started to slam into the façade of the skyscraper. The door closed.

            She emerged from the elevator and proceeded down the corridor to the examination room. As she entered, Benson nodded to her and patted his assistant on the shoulder. He approached her. He explained that the applicant had been sedated, and all the systems were online. He ordered his assistant to initiate phase one. A mechanical arm hovered above Imogene Bradstreet’s face and emitted a concentrated beam of light into her mouth. Her vitals were stable. Everything was going as expected.

            At first it appeared as a tiny line as if a child had taken a pencil and scribbled on her face. Soon, many lines appeared and the skin on her cheek turned green and seemed as if it were metallic. Quickly, Benson’s concern radiated from his command to his assistant, “Turn it off!!! Turn it off right now, something’s going terribly wrong!!”

            The assistant furiously clicked on the keyboard and lowered his head in defeat before he looked at Benson, “It’s too late, it won’t stop until the circuit has completed.”