The vapor of synthetic dormide carries one of the foulest odors a human nostril can endure. Luckily its users are fast asleep before their brains can recognize the smell. In truth, the chemical is toxic -- deadly, even. But only if it enters the bloodstream.
Hezekiah hadn't circulated real blood since his veins were replaced with biostatic energy conduits shortly after his birth. After the smallpox epidemic forty years back, the state deemed the human immune system unsatisfactory and mandated this operation on all newborns. It's a simple procedure involving five small incisions: one along each extremity, and a slightly larger slit across the lower back. Painless, when sedated. The biggest drawback is that the surgery creates a dependency on lithium ion solution, which can only be cycled through the body by a pod.
Hezekiah loved his pod. It kept him healthy in a diseased world. It put him to sleep at night and woke him in the morning. Best of all, it fed him intravenously so he never had to stop for food. With such amazing technology, Hezekiah need never leave his pod. And he couldn't if he wanted to. It was part of him.
At exactly 8:45 AM, the synthetic dormide shut off and Hezekiah awakened. The pod had bathed him as he slept, administered his daily nourishment ration, and disposed of his waste already, so he was fit to begin his day -- not that he had anything to do. With the world essentially run by robots, traditional work had no place in the lives of people. Instead, they spent their days pursuing pleasure, seeking constantly the next diversion from utter boredom. Hezekiah reached for the pod's steering mechanism with atrophied arms and wondered what amusement he might find entertaining today.