Agent C-21 and The Wrong Room

This is one of the stories from a bunch I’m developing around an Agent C-21, and an alternate universe.

More may come soon!

C-21 was growing bored, and every passing minute just seemed to add to that boredom. The light on room 13’s door was clearly not red.

Tch. He crossed and uncrossed his arms, tapping his feet while glancing around the corridor. Suddenly, a light at the other end of the corridor flashed bright red as a group of nurses and attendants rushed past C-21, making a beeline for the flashing door. 

Of course, they didn’t see the flashing light, or they would’ve given up all hope.

C-21 squinted through his aviators. His eyes were growing tired of looking at flashing lights all day. They couldn’t make out the room number. Another attendant ran past him, bumping into C-21 and irritating him even further.

What’s taking them so long?! He had raised a query to the control room almost 15 minutes back. They’d not yet resolved it.

Just finish it off. They’ve probably gone for lunch.

He almost opened the door to the room, but something stopped him. The Chief of Staff’s words echoed in his head. “Do not proceed with harvesting until you get a go ahead from Control.” 

He had harvested the wrong soul last week. It had gotten so messy. He chuckled as he remembered the headline in the newspaper.

Hospital Staff Declares Living Patient Dead, Draws Up Provisional Death Certificate.

He had to return Mr. Kumar’s soul to his body 10 minutes after he harvested it. C-21 was now on probation for that goof up. He couldn’t afford another, or he’d be demoted to the Department of Animal Carcass again.

Human Bodies may have been a very heavy and demanding job, but it was the best salary. He wanted to buy a proper house with a backyard. His wife desired a garden. Odd how I’m not completely human but still suffer from universal greed. He chuckled again. 

“Sir?” a sweet voice brought his attention back to the present. A nurse stood in front of him, trying to enter room 13. 

Should I tell her? He wondered. She seemed young, probably fresh out of college. He decided against it. If she turned out to be an overthinker, she’d keep wondering who the random guy in the aviators was, and how he knew Room 13 was going to have a death. He stepped aside. As she swung open the door, he happened to get a glimpse of the human. He was propped up on the bed. The nurse conversed with him in a low tone, asking him how he was doing. Humans were so…odd. They formed connections in the most unlikely situations. Who forms an affectionate bond with dying people?

Only you know he’s going to die.
Right, of course. The nurse was probably still holding onto hope.

“I see you, and I’m already much better,” the old man laughed. The young nurse flushed but did not seem to take offence. She gave him his medication and adjusted his pillows. He blessed her, his hand on her head.

Odd, odd species.

“My shift ends now, I’ll see you again tomorrow, Mr. Shah.”
He nodded, smiling fondly at her back as she left.

C-21 was never very fond of humans, though Control Room put them on the top of their priority list. He preferred dogs and farm animals. He had hoped he’d be promoted to Dogs, but there was no vacancy there. The harvesters there never seemed to leave or retire.

Happy. They were happy.
It was easier work. When a dog died, he went and lay down in a quiet place. The pets were almost always accompanied by a loving family member, and the strays were calm and accepting of their fate. Very few dogs fought death the way humans did. It was rare to find a dog reliant on tubes and medications and automated machines to keep him alive. He either fought and survived, or didn’t at all.

But humans? They often fought till the last breath. They formed bonds with their nurses, they went into chronic care. They would let themselves be pricked, poked and prodded in any way required to survive. Just like Mr. Shah seemed to be doing.

C-21 sighed. He wondered how much longer it would be till the Control Room figured their shit out. Almost telepathically, his phone buzzed. Control Room

“Is this agent C-21?”
“Yes. Requesting confirmation to harvest the soul of Mr. Sharath Shah, Room 13, HRC Hospital.”
“Conf-wait a minute.I think there’s been a mistake.”
C-21 rolled his eyes.

“You are to harvest Mrs. Nalini Sharma, Room 31, HRC Hospital.”
“Room 31?”
“Yes. The Chariot is anticipating you at the entrance.”
“Okay. Harvesting Mrs. Nalini Sharma, Room 31, HRC Hospital.” He was already walking towards it. He knew without looking that it was the room which the nurses had rushed into earlier. There was now a small crowd outside her room, the light over the door was still flashing red.

He quietly slipped inside Mrs. Sharma’s room, checking to make sure it was empty.

The Chariot was driven by Z-56, a rotund, good humored man. “That took a while,” he teased.
C-21 was in a bad mood. “Not my fault,” he snapped.
Z-56 understood. He laughed. “Take it easy, man. With this pandemic, Control Room’s under a lot of pressure. There’s a lot of souls that need harvesting.”
“They should hire more people. The US office has so many agents!”
“You know we can’t afford it,” Z-56 said quietly.
“I’m thinking of shifting to Dogs.”
“Always a peaceful department. But they won’t let you go until this settles down.”
C-21 remained quiet.
“They mixed up the room number and then went for lunch?”
“Yeah.”
“Hey, still better than catching it after harvesting, right?”

C-21 gave the driver a withering look. But something about Z-56’s face made it impossible to be annoyed while looking at it directly.

“They should have put you in humans. You’re so patient.”
“Nah, direct harvesting is not for me. I’d cry every time I harvested a soul during my training.”

Both of them burst out laughing as Z-56 rounded the last turn and pulled into the Control Room’s compound.