멕시코만 일대의 변칙개체 대처 기술

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I stare out into the dimly lit Gulf of Mexico as the sun's last rays peek over the horizon. One thought goes through my mind, as a glimmer of light illuminates a sign welcoming me to Orange Beach, Alabama.
나는 태양의 마지막 빛줄기가 수평선 너머 살짝 비춰보이는 어둑한 멕시코만을 응시한다. 앨라배마주 오렌지 비치에 온 나를 환영해주는 표지판에 희미한 빛이 비추는 동안, 한 생각이 내 머리 속을 스친다.

What in the hell have I gotten myself into?
내가 뭔 개같은 상황에 처한 거야?

I'd spent the last few years working as a researcher at Site-73. But this… this place was something else. Something completely different. I'd gone through the motions with my soon to be superior, Dr. Jacobs earlier today. He'd told me about the drowning man, Event 2047, and Han, the talking hand. To Jacobs this was just another day. For me, it was my first ethics assignment. For me, this was Bedlam.
난 지난 몇 년간 제73기지의 연구원으로 일했다. 하지만 이… 이곳은 뭔가 다르다. 뭔가 완전히 다르다. 난 오늘 아침 일찍 곧 나의 상관이 될 제이콥스 박사와 행동을 같이 했다. 그는 내게 익사하는 남자, 사건 2047과 한, 말하는 손에 대해서 말해줬다. 제이콥스에게 오늘은 그냥 평범한 하루였다. 나에겐, 첫 윤리 과제였다. 나에겐, 대사건이었다.

Site-88 contains more than just a few safe anomalies. There are world enders here, there is evidence of the world almost ending, more than once. There are aliens, someone buying and selling senses, and there's a minister who offered just a little too much to fix a mistake he'd made. And something else was here that had taken him up on that offer.
제88기지는 안전 변칙개체 몇 개 이상을 격리하고 있다. 여기에는 이 세상의 종결자들도 있고, 세상이 거의 종막에 다달았다는 증거도 있다, 그것도 한 번이 아니라는 증거가. 감각을 매매하는 외계인들도 있고, 자신이 저지른 실수를 바로잡기 위해 조금 많이 건넨 목사도 있다. 그리고 그가 그 제안을 받아드리게한 무언가도 있다.

One of my predecessors doesn't even exist. There are ethics papers on file and no one knows who wrote them. Reality at Site-88 is so fluid that they set up hume detectors just to make sure everything stays real.
내 전임자 중 한 명은 존재하지도 않는다. 윤리쪽 서류가 문서철에 있는데 누가 썼는지 아무도 모른다. 제88기지의 현실은 너무나 유동적이어서 모든 것이 현실적인지 확인하기 위해서 흄 감지기를 설치해뒀다.

Who am I? Why do I care? I'm the Ethics Committee Liaison. Just some guy with higher access than everyone except the site director. It's my job to look over the containment procedures for every scary ass object at Site-88 and then contemplate the deep ethical questions.
나느 누구지? 내가 왜 신경 쓰지? 난 윤리위원회 연락책이야. 기지 이사관만 뺀 나머지 보다 접근 권한이 높은 놈일 뿐이라고. 제88기지의 모든 무시무시한 개체들의 격리 절차를 살피고 심오한 윤리적 문제에 대해서 심사숙고하는게 내 일이라고.

The sun's last glow finally goes out, and the darkness drops again over the water. I sigh, and sit down in the sand on the edge of the ocean. Somewhere out there, a church sits uncrushed by the untold pressure of the water above it. And every Sunday, a whole building full of people are born again just to be drowned. A perverse baptism, like the Reverend I'm responsible for but on an even larger scale.

The worst part of all? As I stare out and imagine the horror of drowning I can't help but smile. Because that one isn't my problem. Someone else handles the drowning church. The ethical implications of the decision to let them die over and over again isn't my purview. I'm free of guilt. For that at least.

Tomorrow Jacobs leaves. Tomorrow I have to find an apartment near the Site. I stand up, dust myself off and walk back to my car. I grab a flyer off my windshield and toss it into the passenger seat. I sit down on the driver's side and open my glove compartment. The Gideon bible inside has brought me solace on a number of occasions. Solace is something I need in this moment.

When you work for the Foundation, believing in something larger and grander than yourself is easy. Believing in something larger and grander than the stuff around you is a bit harder but it is something I've done for years to stay sane. I open the bible to a random page and select a passage. Ezekiel 20:29.

"Then I said unto them, What is the high place whereunto ye go? And the name thereof is called Bamah unto this day."

I wrinkle my nose as I look up from the pages. The half crumpled flyer in the seat beside me is bright red, and catches my eye.

"Check out 'Bama Boat's Gulf Tours! Only 20 bucks at Pier 8!"


That is just unsettling.