In-Processing
#2 of Covert Operations
"Ok, I don't know what the hell is going on here, but somebody had better start explaining, NOW!" yelled Steve after drawing his service issue pistol and passing it between the receptionist and the "nurse." "Its OK mister Robertson, just lower your pistol and the doctor will explain everything," spoke the receptionist softly, "just re-holster your weapon, and we'll explain everything." "The hell I will, I'm stuck two hundred feet under ground in a waiting room with a...a...I don't know what the hell you are, and your telling me to," he felt a mosquito bite him on the neck, "to...calm...dow..." he fell to the floor. "Well, that didn't go so badly," said the doctor to no one in particular. He took out a tape recorder, "Subjects initial impression of anthropomorphism was shock and fear. Subject A fainted on sight, and Subject B went into hysterics." He clicked the recorder off. "Nurse, if you'd please have these gentlemen taken to the in-processing room, and have Mr. Swagger given a sedative," instructed the doctor. "Yes, doctor." she turned back into the doorway, "Orderly! Bring two gurneys and a sedative." The orderly came back with what she had requested, handed the nurse a syringe and a vial, and began placing the two men on the gurneys. "You'd think in this day in age they wouldn't be so surprised," mused the nurse as she injected Mike with the sedative. "And so cute, too," she said as she stroked his face with the side of her paw. With both men on the gurneys and Mike safely sedated, the nurse and orderly pushed them through the door in the corner and down the hall.
Steve gained consciousness just long enough to her a strange voice say, "Well, that completes the test, barring the evaluation of their DNA, they're the perfect candidates for genetic manipulation. Nurse, please take them to the recovery room and see that they are comfortable; report to me when they begin to regain consciousness." The last thing Steve heard was a melodyess female voice, though he didn't last long enough to comprehend her response, he fell into a beautiful dream, of her.
The first thing he noticed was a searing pain, it felt as though his head was going to split down the middle, the next thing he noticed was that same voice, the one from his dream, "Doctor, Mr. Robertson is beginning to stir, I think you had better get down here, I wouldn't want to repeat the earlier mishap." Earlier mishap, what had happened? Mike and him had been waiting for the doctor, then the receptionist had called for Mike...That voice, it was the same voice he was hearing now, which meant that... "Mr. Robertson, glad to see you're doing well, I'm Dr. Smith," a young, fit man in a lab coat held a hand out to him. He quickly took in his surroundings, he was in a small hospital room, that must be Mike on the other side of the curtain, everything seemed normal, no walking collies, just a tall doctor still holding his hand out to him; he and Mike must have been out training and been knocked unconscious somehow, it had all been a dream. He shook the doctor's hand. The doctor had noticed Steve's hurried glance and hesitation, "Don't worry lieutenant, you're perfectly safe," he glanced at the clock on the wall, "are you hungry or thirsty, the mess hall should still be open?" "No, no thanks, I had a big breakfast. I'm a bit nauseous, too." "That fine, that's most likely from the medication, if you require anything, just ring for the nurse and she'll have it sent right down," said the doctor, "I must be going, we're still running your blood samples." He quickly turned and left the room, leaving Mike alone. Blood samples? What the hell happened that they're running our blood? I've been to the medic plenty of times, they've never run my blood before, maybe it wasn't a dream. He glanced at the clock, well, if it wasn't I've been out for at least six hours. He took a more thorough assessment of the room, no windows, no TV or radio, no magazines or pamphlets, and just one door...the plot thickens, thought Steve. He noticed the nightstand with a pitcher of water and a plastic glass, he slid onto the side of the bed and set up, just no realizing they had removed his clothes and dressed him in a hospital gown. After pouring a glass of water, he was quite thirsty, he looked himself over; he had no casts or bandages, just a band-aid where they had drawn blood from his arm, maybe it wasn't a dream, he thought again. Putting the now empty glass back on the table, he noticed the drawer was slightly open. Inside he found what appeared to be a medical journal: Adult Human Genetic Resequencing. The cover story was: Huge leaps are being made in combining human and animal DNA, where will we be in ten years? The picture was of a man in a doctor's coat holding the leash of a German Shepard. He quickly turned to the article, skimming it over, he learned that a doctor in Russia was attempting to blend human and canine DNA in order to create a "super soldier"; the eventual hybrid would have the intelligence and stature of a man, but the superior hearing, sight, and smell, and strength of the animal. The fur coat would also allow the soldiers to work in colder climates with less gear. According to the report, it would be another ten years yet before the procedure would be feasible, so far the doctor was still attempting to splice nocturnal sight of an owl with the speed and sight of a hawk, it wasn't promising. Well, that explains a lot, the Russian's were always a step or two behind us. But this guy isn't even close, the article gives him no less than ten years, how could we have already perfected it enough to create what I saw in the waiting room? thought Steve. "Ugh, what happened. My head's killing me!" came a groggy voice from the other side of the curtain. "Mike? Is that you, buddy?" inquired Steve hopefully. "Yeah, last time I checked, dang, what happened? It feels like my heads splitting apart." "Don't worry about it, it'll go away pretty fast," said Steve, reaching over to the curtain and pulling it back so they could talk, "drink some water, that'll help." Mike slowly sat up on the edge of his bed and reached for the pitcher and glass on his nightstand, "Ow, man. What happened? Last thing I remember we were waiting for the doctor, I got up to leave, and then nothing." "I don't know, the doctor was here when I woke up, all he said was to call the nurse if we needed anything, and that he'd be back after they finished analyzing our blood sample." Mike looked up suddenly, scared, "The nurse, right before I blacked out, I remember seeing a...a...a something." "Yeah, I remember that too, I pulled my pistol and asked 'em what was going on, then I felt a prick on my neck, and everything went black, they must have drugged us. I don't know what's going on here, but we'd better stick together and watch our backs, something's not right," explained Steve. The doctor walked in, looking excited. "Well, gentleman, all your tests came back perfect, I just need you to sign this for your security clearance," he said handing them paperwork and pens. Mike looked at the top of the paper, "Alpha-Tango clearance, woh, that's up there, whats going on here?" "I can't tell you until you sign those papers, then you'll need to get into these," he pulled two card board boxes from a cabinet, "and meet me in the conference room at the end of the hall." At that he left again, apparently heading for the conference room. "Well, he's seems pleased," stated Mike, opening his box, "dang, they put everything in here, boots, clothes, a watch, pen, notepad, belt," Mike listed off the items as he took them out of the box. Steve was already pulling on a grey jumpsuit and reaching down for the boots. Mike laughed, "Hey buddy, I think you put that on backwards, looks like your fly's in the back." Steve straightened up and looked down, "what are you talking about? The fly is in the front, so are all the cargo pockets and Velcro for a name tag." Mike looked at his, "These must be pilot suits, the hole is probably for tubing or something." Steve shrugged and laced up his boot. Fully dressed, they left the recovery room, and headed right, down the way the doctor had gone, about twenty feet down the hall there was an open door, they looked in, it was a conference room with a small table with drinks and sandwiches set out, a projector, and the doctor sitting at the end of the table with a laptop. "Welcome, please have a seat and help yourself to whatever you'd like, I'm just finishing up your report." After five minutes, he turned the projector on, and turned the lights off with a remote. The screen showed a computer generated image of a cross between a man and some sort of canine in woodland camouflage. Although Steve could tell it was fake, it reminded him eerily of the nurse from the waiting room. The doctor began to speak, "Gentleman, you are currently in the In-processing lab of the Center for Human Genetic Resequencing, we are approximately twenty-five stories under ground. Our mission is to develop the perfect soldier, a cross between a man and a canine. First, some background; you may have heard about scientists recently splicing the DNA of tobacco and fireflies, resulting in tobacco that glows at night? No? Well, that actually happened about twenty years ago, our cover civilian cover, CHGR, Inc, recently released that information in order to satisfy the overly curious. In actuality, we perfected this technology several years ago. Unfortunately, only about one in ten thousand American's are genetically compatible, because of that we have had to wait a few years in order to find military subjects compatible. You two are those subjects. "Four years ago, when you reported to your ROTC units, your blood was taken to be screened for diseases and medical conditions; it was also sent here for testing. This was why you were placed in the same unit at training and why you were given orders to come here. "Of course, we won't force you to undergo the procedure, but if you choose to you will both be greatly compensated for your contribution." He stopped talking, letting what he had just said sink in. Steve spoke up first, "so what your saying is that you want to turn us into the same thing as that nurse we saw in the waiting room," he was beginning to scream, "that we're the best candidates for the procedure and that you want to turn us into freaks?" "Please, lieutenant, Ms. Johnson is not a freak. And neither would you be. What I'm attempting to do is aid an evolution of the species. Now, if you agree to this, you would be stronger and faster, your eyesight and hearing would be greatly improved, and you would retire with far more than you would if you were regular officers. Now, you don't have to agree now, this presentation will cover all aspects of the procedure as well as your life afterwards, you will also be able to speak with Ms. Johnson, ask her any questions you want, she is used to it, just try not to faint again Mr. Swagger." Steve laughed at this, and Mike gave him a dirty look. "Alright, we'll here you out, and talk with your nurse," replied Mike. "Good, lets begin the presentation." Most of it was over his head, but what he got from the presentation was that over a series of a couple months they would be given treatments designed to "evolve" their DNA; contrary to what he had thought, they were not guinea pigs, they were, in fact, the tenth pair of soldiers to undergo the procedure, and he was approximately the hundredth person to be changed, Ms. Johnson had been a collie for almost two years. When he asked when they could speak with her, Smith told them she was off for the day--it was nearly eighteen hundred hours--but that she would be in at zero-eight in the morning, at which time they could freely discuss any aspect of the transformation they wished. "So what are we going to do until then?" inquired Steve. "You both have rooms ready for you on the habitat level, the mess hall is also on that level. There is a phone and computer in both your rooms if you wish to call anyone or use e-mail, but remember, if you disclose this to anyone, you will be tried for treason. That said, your free to do what you like until morning, here are your security IDs, Chuck will show you to your rooms and where the mess hall is. Until morning gentlemen." At that, the doctor stood up and left. "Well, he isn't very friendly, must be all the radiation," joked Mike. "Man, this whole place is crazy, I mean, can you believe this? Morphing people into half animals? I thought congress banned genetic research on humans," Steve was still somewhat shocked by the briefing. "I don't know what to think, I'm just going to get some supper and hit the rack, hopefully with some sleep I'll be able to sort this stuff out," stated Mike seriously. Before either marine could say more, a tall, muscular man in a white shirt and pants came in, "I'm Chuck, I'm the orderly and security for this area. Dr. Smith said that you were ready to see your rooms." He raised an eyebrow as if inquiring, but his tone was flat and absolute. "Guess so, lets go see those rooms and the chow hall, those sandwiches didn't do much to curb my appetite," joked Mike, smiling. After being shown where everything was and how everything in their rooms was operated, Chuck returned to the In-processing center. After getting settled into their rooms, Mike and Steve decided to investigate the chow hall more thoroughly. Although the facilities were the same as any officer's mess, the dinners were anything but. Sitting together or alone were about twenty humans and anthropomorphics. Trying not to stare, Mike and Steve went through the line, thankfully the servers were normal, and sat alone at a table against the wall, eating hurriedly. After dinner, they went to Mike's room to review the days events; they eventually decided that they were either very privileged or very screwed. Either way, tomorrow was going to be even more interesting. Around midnight Steve went to his own room for sleep. Just like in the recovery room, he dreamt of Ms. Johnson, the collie with the beautiful voice. * * * These two are all I have right now. I'm considering turning this into a full fledged book and/or adding a few yiffier segments... Let me know what you think!