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We spend our life lookin g upward.

We m easure our childrens’ growth by their height.

From abodes closer and closer to the sky.

We talk them into believin g that life’s a mountain, to be climbed.

Many are left behind. Som eone else climbs over them.

Bu t very few notice. Very few question. As above, not so below.

- S ubject: located. - Bioparam eters: transmitted.

Officer: unau thorized presen ce in

- Scene: configurin g.

deploym ent area. A “Synth” shaman.

Recovery Mission : top priority. Presen ce: trivial. We proceed.

“I walk through minefields”

Then you’ve got a more excitin g job, b uddy.

Level “A” cell: alert! Many, many bodies.

I’d rather be

Massive “Eightball”

on disability.

presen ce!

- Sewer pipes: open. - Pods: en gaged. - Eightballs: in position.

Recovery Team : in position. Start in 5.

That blast! Bu t where…

Bye- bye… daddy…

Slowpoke! There are bodies to go! Bolt!

Hup hup hup

What is it now. . .?!

Data removal? They’re erasin g som ethin g!

And now, the hardware! Well it won’t be lost from everywhere.

. . .C seven, got it!

Fuckin g hellhole. You destroyed my family, my life!

And you, Ted. . . what the fuck have you done?!?

A contrib u tion for Utopolis’ pets?

“Citycleanin g” office, please.

Do you have an appointm ent? No.

I am so sorry. Do you have an And what is your b usiness…?

appointm ent?

My husband is dead and his compu ter com es to life for no apparent reason…

My husband is dead.

Security. Your b usiness is con cluded.

…you’re erasin g any trace… I have a right to know…!

I’m not from Utopolis. Not anymore.


The Body Snatchers #1