It was the latest in organi-tech about thirty years ago and now it was little more than a condemned man, unable to eat, sleep, feel pain or die. They were called Repeaters - godawful aberrations made from 'willing' death row inmates and enough cable to choke the world thrice over.
Their sole purpose had been to manually fuel the signals from one remote airbase to another, their bodies emptied of all their organs and replaced with just enough circuitry to keep them running til judgement day. It was easier and cheaper than sending out for engineers every time the signals dipped, the Repeaters would just pull their tool section out and repair it themselves.
Most of them had either broken down naturally or broken themselves down (which led to some legal confusion as to whether this was corporate sabotage or suicide). Some had even been taken apart for mercy's sake by charities desperate to see their loved ones rest in peace but there would always be a few forgotten ones.
In life he was known as John Smith, a serial killer who hid in plain sight under a plain name for twenty years until he gave himself up to justice when the thrill of evading capture wore off. If he were still all human he'd be eighty seven years old but officially he died as soon as he woke up in Repeater Station J48.
The airbase he transmitted to had long since been out of commission but they still hadn't come to disconnect him. He barely noticed time passing him by, drifting between stasis and repairs without so much as a blip until the Repeaters on either end of him were cut and he was left without a signal to send or receive.
For the first time in thirty years he opened his mouth.
For the first time in thirty years he screamed.
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