He had not been able to shut his eyes, hadn’t even turned back his bedcovers. It made him even more nervous than he already was. Grossman had always figured researchers kept their workspaces tidy, but that did not seem to be the case as he pushed, frenzied, into Bryce’s studio. In a last-ditch effort to soothe her anxiety, she powered on the Control system, monitor casting light across her as she slumped over, folded her arms below her, and stared off into nothingness as she gave in to her worry. The tang of Gorrister’s stale tobacco that clung to her seat did nothing to calm her nerves. The line went dead on Theora, wet and alone. “Yes, of course,” the woman deadpanned, a sharp edge to her voice. “But Body Banks are for dead people,” she stated, mind beginning to race. “No, we don’t seem to have anyone answering that description. “Personal Ident code: 74928BDJ-double-six-29.”įor a moment, she seemed hopeful as the supervisor had paused, yet a heaviness formed in the pit of her stomach when she responded. The woman on the other end sounded bored, irritated. After a few rings, she was transferred to the proper department. “Casualty supervisor, please,” she said into her phone’s receiver, enunciating clearly so that it would pick up her command. She had been answered, as expected, by an electronic voice on the other end. If there was even a sliver of a chance someone had stopped to help… She resorted to calling the nearest hospital. The last time he had used his Tag was at lunch - he had forgone dinner, too distracted to eat. However, she would neither risk it nor have such luck. Unless he was truly delirious, it was likely he’d know what to do or where to go. Then again, he had spent much of his career in the various alleys and corners of the Metropolis. For all she knew he could be out in the streets, injured and confused, and if he had been taken or his credits had been stolen she would hopefully be able to tell. If his Tag’s location had been logged by any of the City’s many establishments, she could pinpoint its last known location and create something akin to a bread-crumb trail. Even if his pursuers had killed him and dumped his body across town, she needed to be sure.įirst, she would attempt a Tag trace. She threatened to drift off as she leaned back in her chair, but would not allow herself the comfort of sleep now. The lights in the Control room had shut off by the time Theora retreated back to her console, clothing soaked through and thoroughly exhausted.
Part 1 of the Max Headroom: TMITF Rewrite series Stats: Published: Updated: Words: 48047 Chapters: 11/? Comments: 1 Kudos: 9 Bookmarks: 2 Hits: 260
For less than half a minute, Em flickers about a neon landscape of cubical lines dressed like the computer-like character, which debuted in 1984 and became its own TV series, Max Headroom: 20 Minutes Into the Future, in 1987. The track comes off his most recent album, The Marshall Mathers LP 2.
Rolling Stone’s new cover subject, Eminem, riffs on the Eighties’ stuttering sci-fi character and soda spokesman Max Headroom in the teaser for his “Rap God” video, which debuts in full next Wednesday.