The two youths struggled in vain. Fortunately, there was plenty of air for Jason and Ryan to breathe. They tried calling for help, but apparently, Jeff's modified dumpster body was too sound-proof. Jason actually managed to fall asleep pinned under the trash bags. Ryan kept struggling to get free himself, and managed to rip open the plastic bag pinning him. He only made things worse. He soon found himself tangled in some twisted torn netting and some disgusting sticky broth of old coffee, spaghetti sauce, chocolate syrup, honey and eggs. The more he struggled the more entangled he became until he was essentially mummified in the gooey netting.
Jeff felt bad. He wanted Ryan and Jason to be safe, but he remembered something he had forgotten. The neighbor's cat had gotten into him last week, but hadn't gotten out. He assumed it escaped when the trash men emptied Jeff, but he saw the neighbor had posted missing cat signs. He was going to tell her, but he forgot. SLEEP. FORGET. Came the pre-programmed words. But Jason, Ryan, the cat- Jeff's mind protested. FORGET. SLEEP.
Jeff slept.
He was awakened by the trash truck pulling away. He had slept through being emptied. He hadn't felt Jason kicking and scrambling to get free, as he was dumped. He almost made it out, but he burly trash man pushed Jason back into the trash truck, while his wiry colleague pulled the lever causing the truck to swallow him up. Jason was sure he was going to be crushed, but Genetilabs Research didn't want crushed specimens. The inside compartment apparently was filled with some deodorizing agent. Jason called for help, but the sweet scent of poppies lulled him to sleep between an old sofa and a rubber tire. He was hugging a black plastic bag full of trash when Ryan joined him.
Ryan shouted and wriggled like a fish, but the netting made escape useless. He pleaded with the trash men to let him go. They just laughed.
"Fine mess, you got yourself into!" said one trash man.
"Fine mess, he made of himself!" joked the other.
"Puh-lease, I'll pay you!" begged Ryan.
"You don't get it. You've been inside an inani, you've probably already been infected. So you belong to Genetilabs Research now. If they can cure you, I'm sure they'll let you go," explained the burly man.
"Most likely they can't. But you'll make someone a handsome toaster or whatnot. Never heard of anybody being rescued from inatification," said the second. He pulled the lever, and the truck panels opened and swallowed Ryan too.
As the truck pulled away, Jeff yawned and stretched. He felt strangely refreshed, yet hungry this morning. He wanted to walk back to the house, but as an inanti he wasn't permitted to do so until he had been properly washed, then he could resume the human portion of his existence for the rest of the week, until it was trash day again.
Ryan shouted at Jason, but couldn't wake him. He soon to was lulled to sleep by the scented gas, and the gentle rolling of the moving trash truck.
As the truck emptied its contents inside the heavily fortified warehouse, Jason, Ryan, and the other trash were dumped onto a conveyor belt. As they rolled down the conveyor disembodied human arms reached down as separated the recyclables from the trash. Jason slept soundly, but Ryan awoke. He remembered that the trash was burned to power the steam plant and make electricity. Ryan started shouting again. He didn't see any people, just the disembodied hands and arms. They lifted sleeping Jason away pulling him free of the trash bag to which he was clutching. Plastic bottles and aluminum cans were extracted. The hands touched Ryan, but the netted lad didn't register with the hands that groped him. The recycled items were pulled off to the left, and the trash items disappeared to the right. Ryan continued down the conveyor belt. Eventually, he passed through some rubber straps into a large white room with men in lab coats, rubber gloves and hard hats.
One strolled over toward Ryan.
"Ah, what do we have here? See I told you, Hobbes, that gambling was dangerous. Looks like another bookie threw away a bad debtor."
"No, please I'm not a gambler. I was dumpster divin-"
"Ah, even better, less likely there will be a police investigation that might lead here."
"WHAT!"
The doors opened and an orderly in orange scrubs, mask, gloves and hardhat wheeled in a gurney with a naked 50 year old man grinning stupidly. Ryan recognized him as the bum who slept behind the liquor store downtown.
"Sir? Where ya want him?" the orderly asked.
"Please, Mac, they are its now not hims or hers."
"Right oh, sir. Where do you want - it?"
"Ah, too old for my experiments, take it down to Holmby in luggage, I'm sure he can do something. He can make a sow's ear into a silk purse, quite literally," the man standing over Ryan said as he turned back to look down at Ryan, "You on the other hand, young man, are another story. I've been working on shipping containerization. Do realize how much more cargo you could ship if you could fit an entire shipping container of goods into the space one person occupies?"
"Wait, what!?! I'm a human being! You can't do this to me!" Ryan shouted.
"Hey, how come he's not an it?" asked the orderly as he stood by another door about to exit with his hobo.
"Ah, he hasn't been programmed yet. You know I don't think I'll have him programmed. Sometimes I find it more useful if my experiments can tell me what they feel is happening to them."
"Happening to me?!!"
The orderly frowned and disappeared through the double doors on his way to Holmby.
Another orderly entered pushing a gurney. This time naked Jason was sitting on the gurney grinning stupidly. He was naked, and drool was trickling out of the corner of his mouth.
"Jason! Quick, you got to help me!" Ryan shouted.
Jason was oblivious.
"Ah, a friend of yours? I'm afraid he's already been programmed. He won't be helping you to escape. He's a happy contented inanimo. He wants to be modified, he wants to be used. Unlike the dumpster you were diving in, he's fully programmed. The ones who function as human part time, only receive partial programming. But no worries, you won't be chemically and electronically lobotomized like your friend," the man said, "At least not until I've finished with you."
"Wait! You can't do this! It ain't legal." Ryan looked imploringly at the orderly, who just shrugged.
"Ah, but it is legal. Legally, everything inside one of Genetilabs Research's living dumpsters belongs to Genetilabs. That includes you and your buddy. You ceased to be human the moment you climbed in."
"Wait, what if I'm not infected. I don't feel like I'm infected," Ryan pleaded.
"Infected? Hah! You cannot get infected by simply being inside an inanimo."
"I can't?" Ryan said in relief, "Hey, I thought they were called inani?"
"I much prefer the inanimo, besides the Japanese firm Hiroshima Bio has the trademark on that name. But the way people are using it, it will probably end up public domain. Or products are trademarked inanimo. Now both that thing and this young man are perfect for my containerization experiments. So get them both to Lab 23," he said pointing first at Jason, then at Ryan. Then the man added, crinkling up his nose, "And get this one stripped and cleaned up - but don't program him."
"Hey, my name is Ryan, and his name is Jason, and you can't do this to us."
"I may need help with the unprogrammed one," the orderly said frowning.