Dog Gone (20)
Dog Gone (20) By Roofles
I took the wrist band from the wall and clipped it onto my arm. It gripped my wrist tightly and I felt the pressure increase before it relaxed, adjusting to my arm size and fur. The machine turned on slowly before lightly up brightly, then dimming. It showed a rough outline of myself and my bio readings. Heart rate, breathing, blood pressure. The works. These things didn't interest me at all.
I pressed the small icon on the bottom left side and the map showed across the screen. There was a faint humming sound as the green light rose up just above it and showed the outline of the area around me. "Motion sensor seems to be working." I said turning to one side then the other. It showed a dot in the middle. Me. I shoved the husky to the side and saw another dot form. I stuck out a tongue as he flipped me off.
"So do I get one too?" He asked his ears jumping up and tail wagging. I looked at him as if he had gone mad and shook my head.
"Poor Biscuit. These only work if your in the system." I tapped the screen on the wall of the armory we were in. "And seeing as how you don't even exsist. Well..."I shrugged. "You win some you lose some." At least my file was still...on file.
He pouted over the fact though as I searched the area. Spudnik had said that 612 was in the staging area of the landing flight. Which was through the med bay, past the dreamland module, into the main walkway for Bay 3 (where we jumped into the armory to resupply) and now we just have to...go back to the holding cells. Interesting turn of events. I basically went around in one giant circle then. That...kind of pissed me off.
"Well I've been in this area before, even if I don't remember. We just need to hit the labryinth, avoid the minotaur, and find the needle in the haystack." I hated this place. I truly hated this place. The designer could just go rot in hell for all I care.
"Minotaur?" Biscuit asked looking through some of the supplies in the room. It was more of a reserve of supplies, a place to stash the extra stuff, than the main supply room. There weren't any guns or ammo here. Not much of an armory really... Though we were able to exchange our food store as well as supply ourselves with fresh water.
I waved his question off as I continued to look my new fashion statement over. It was a bit bulky and weighed my arm down but it served its purpose well. There weren't any maps, camera's or other means of navigating this place other then one of these wristbands. The map only showed the area around us. It didn't even show which way was north or south.
"Anything else to do before we get going?" He asked setting down the metal cans he had kept with us this whole time. He bowed his head and I joined in, if only for show. "Arrivederla, my friends."
"Amen." It didn't exactly sound right but it worked. "Should we bury them or something?" I didn't exactly know the protocal here. They were dead and gone. Such is life. No use weeping over the dead. The dead carried disease and were just wasted matter. Once the brain dies there is nothing left of them. Why else would I have made that cement colored drug, to restore the brains functions and with it restore life. It was a little too late for these guys though...
"No. I think it's best if we just leave them in peace." I didn't want to tell him that leaving them here wasn't the best option. But maybe he wanted that. That they could still have use this way if nothing else. The thought was a bit sickening but at least, in turn, their death would have meaning. He didn't say and I didn't ask. Its what friends do. I could only assume.
The door shut behind us and I looked up at the number above it. But there wasn't any point. Not like I was planning on remembering it or anything. "We'll continue down the hallway and cut into the main cell block. From there its only a matter of tracking down 612." I tapped the machine on my arm. "We'll just have to follow any signs of movement and hope for the best."
He nodded and we set off. Yet I found myself looking back at that room number as if I wanted to remember where we had left them behind. It felt...similar somehow.
The building was empty most likely due to the protocal DES. With the experiments running wiled and the denizens free - the main body would retreat to the over laying landscape so that the cleaners could come in. They would exterminate most of the pests before fumicating the whole facility. Jessica had already set up her little guard stations from what Biscuit told me. Stations placed at strategic locations waiting like a trapdoor spider for prey to come by. I also heard she used drones in order to lure unsuspecting dogs into her trap. Most would be killed and the bodies would be salvaged for materials. The lucky ones anyways.
There were traces of blood but no movement on the monitor. The smell in the air was the best lead for us to follow. That similar scent was deluted in the air though. "Biscuit. Track!" I pointed forward as a hunter would for his hunting dog. He looked at me and lowered his brow.
"You got a nose. You track them down!"
"Your the man that wanted to be a dog." I declared. "So be a dog and find 612." I pointed forward again looking over at him several times. "Huh? Huh? Fetch!" I threw the imaginary bone and he only looked at me. "Who's a good boy? Who is? Who is? Yes you are. Yes you are."
"You've finally lost it." He shook his head and proceeded forward yet I saw his tail wag.
I followed behind keeping an eye on the monitor. It had taken about another ten minutes before any real sign showed on the radar. Another dot appeared and we both stopped. Pulled our guns out and got ready, aiming towards the corridor the dot was quickly coming from.
We could hear the sound of paws against the ground before nearly taking the dalmation head off as he skidded around the corner. He yelped and ducked down pulling his ears down as if that would somehow make him smaller. A shivering ball of white spotted fur on the ground. Kind of pathetic really.
"We're not going to shoot you." Biscuit said. I wasn't about to tell him that I made no such promise. "What are you doing here."
"I escaped from one of the cells a-and have been looking f-for a way out." He kept his head down not even able to look at us. A lowly mongrel. My eyes narrowed looking down at the dog. I checked the radar again making sure the coast was clear and looked around again. It was empty. This whole place was but this dog was just running around...?
"We're trying to find a dog. A rottweiler, might go by 612." The husky crouched down placing a paw on his shoulder. "We're just looking for the dog. We're not here to hurt you."
I looked around as the husky slowly began getting the dog to relax. There was nobody else. No guards or anything. There was still traces of gunpowder and blood in the air. Stephany had said he was wounded. But I wasn't sure which blood trail was his. And the dog before us stank of death...
"Y-yeah. Look I might know which way he's at. If you guys follow me I can," I gripped the back of the dogs neck and slammed him against the wall. Bringing my snout close to his ear and letting out a growl.
"Your Jessica's bitch, right?" I laughed a bit letting him go as he fumbled to the ground. I looked down at him with cold eyes.
"The hell Doug?" Biscuit asked but he didn't do anything to try and stop me. In fact he was looking down at the dog growling himself.
"D-doug?" The dalmation asked looked between me and the husky before focusing on me. His eyes widened.
"Oh. So you do know me." I knelt down in front of him and brought a hand up to his chin so he was looking me square in the eye. "I heard Jessica used drones but dogs worked too. Especially in this situation. Like a Anglerfish this dog was just used to bring prey into its waiting mouth, or in this case the trap. We would've been led into a firing squad..." I laughed a bit, a cruel dark laugh that I wasn't sure where it came from exactly. I touched the metal box in my pocket, my finger itching to open it up. But I took a deep breath and let it out calming down. "Tell me where the rottweiler is and I won't begin disecting you."
He just looked at him so maybe a demonstration was in order...
I reached up and touched the area around his eye. "First I'd peel back the flesh starting with here." I traced my fingers back from the eye towards the ear. The skin was loose already and just needed a few of the senews to be snipped clean. "From there I can reveal your skull and eye socket. With enough pressure directly pressed around the eye I can pop it out without even needing to crack your skull open. I'll be doing that later. Oh don't worry. You'll still be alive."
Ew. The mongrel pissed himself. "Biscuit bring me some gloves and a scapel and let this surgery commence-,"
"Wait! Wait please! I didn't mean to. I had to. She said she'd kill me if I didn't. I wanted to live." He whined and cowered back against the wall as far as he could in the smallest ball he could form. His whole body was shaking and I could even smell his fear over the rancid stench of urine. It was almost one and the same really.
"How many?" I asked my voice as bland as black coffee. It'd be impossible to tell if I were angry or not.
"I don't know." He whined and shook his head. He didn't know? Or there had been too many to count? Or they just weren't worth keeping track of... and yes I was angry at him. To butcher those dogs like cattle - and then to waste the materials afterwards? Truly an insult to everything we founded here...and this dog was just as guilty of it as they were.
"Now then. Please tell me where my dog is before I castrate you." I brushed a scapel I had taken from my coat pocket, from a fine silver casing, and pressed it under his chin and letting the flat of the blade run across his wind pipe. He gasped a bit pulling back wide eyed.
"The jail cell. The jail cell. I put him in the jail-," his voice gurgled as the scapel dug into his throat. It was a clean slice even in my standards. He fell to the side holding his neck, legs flailing about with wide stunned eyes that seemed about to pop out of their sockets. I cleaned the knife blade and slid it back into that small silver casing stashing it in my coat once more. I turn and headed down the hall without a second thought for the dog that betrayed his own for a few scraps of food from the table.
"Maybe he didn't know." Biscuit spoke up as we headed down a flight of stairs. I looked around, checked my wrist band and continued without answering. "He might've done it without knowing what would happen. False promises."
"Just because thats what happened to you doesn't mean he was in the same boots." I corrected him as a teacher would a student. I kept looking at the band making sure there wasn't anyone there.
Biscuit was stunned. Wide eyed, his mouth agaped. It was kind of cute how clueless he was sometimes.
"How did- I mean when did you- what!" He nearly shouted making my ears fold down. There was a downside to having increased hearing, that was for sure. Well it wasn't increased hearing per say, now that I think about it. The formation of the ears allowed me to hear things from all around me like radar dishes. The ears could turn towards the noise without having me to look. They could pick up more sound and allowed me to lock onto it thus increasing the understanding of the sound itself. The source might've been-
"Stop doing that." He growled. I looked at him a bit confused before he clarified. "You space off sometimes thinking about only you know what."
"Sorry. My mind tends to...focus on things sometimes." I shook my head and apologized again. "You were saying?"
"How did you figure out that I had done that." He whimpered pulling back and twisting his wrist.
"It wasn't that hard. The connection with The Society was the biggest clue. Frankly you just out right told me without even noticing really. I just put the puzzle pieces together." I shrugged. "Simple as that. The details elude me." I asked more as a question hoping he'd tell me more. I was just dieing to know after all. Knowledge was such a forbidden thing after all...
"I didn't know." He said dropping his head down. "They said it was for the best. That they were going to be helped and then..."
I raised my hand silencing him. If I heard any more I might change my mind about letting him tag along. Not that I doubted his sincerity on the subject but one thing I always hated was when one abandoned their own or turned on each other just to make a buck. Even those who came down here to get away from the conflict than face it head on...pissed me off. The tools and research they had could've helped mankind. Saved so many. And yet they decided to save their own skins and play their sick games instead. It truly annoyed me.
"What is it?" He was still cowering back afraid to really look at me.
"Hm?" I mentally slapped myself. I had been doing it again. "Do you know why I hate the Brutus series?"
His ears jumped up at that and he looked at me.
"They aren't...interesting. A creature that loves and obeys only because of a chemical reaction in the brain." I tapped my head. "They don't really have a thought process or reasoning. They just do as their told. If one came up right now and stabbed me in the back I wouldn't even flinch. Sure it'd hurt but the fact he had done it wouldn't be his doing but anothers telling him to do so." But the Brutus that had betrayed us didn't do that. He actually wanted something... fascinating; did the newer models then have their own personalities? Interesting hypothesis. I'll have to test it out after all this is over. "In the end. They are but mindless slaves. A failed project really." Even so though...they continued to evolve and adapt without me. Without a figure head or leader they would go out into the world searching for something or someone to connect with. This would need some looking into...
"So you...hate them because of this?" He asked glad to have the subject changed away from his mishaps.
"Boring things don't interest me." I shrugged my shoulders. We had past four intersections of corridors already. If we turned left here and went down two more then right we'd be in the jail cell. I've never been but I know the rumors of it to be true. "Robotic slave dogs are just boring by nature. Not really their fault."
"And what about me?" He asked grinning from ear to ear.
"Your an oddity." I stated. He frowned trying to figure out if that was a good thing or not. I wasn't even sure if that was a good thing or not. I didn't ponder on the situation though seeing as how I was stuck with the dog already. Yet... a part of me was glad that he was here. And I wouldn't have changed him for any other dog. Then again being turned into...this has left a rather biased opinion of dogs, an not a good one. "I lost track of the Brutus series in the late 400s."
"Wait...what about 612 then?"
I looekd at him with a raised eyebrow before shaking my head with a laugh. "612 isn't the number he is in the Brutus series. 612 was the room I found him in." He seemed only more puzzeled by that. "I have always been trying to find the best way to intrigate the Brutus line into a home setting. 612 was a puppy when I found him. A clone but a puppy. He really was...unique."
I had first assumed 612 was my assistant. Or guard dog. But thinking of it now... "The Brutus line are civil servants. They are bred to serve man and enjoy doing so. I wanted to create a line of them that were puppy dogs. So from such a young age families could except them into their homes and they could learn and bond with the family. They'd be maids, guards, tutors, handy-men. Anything a house could need."
"Anything?" Biscuit asked lewdly with a snicker.
"The Brutus models are asexual, sorry. You'll have to find a place to bury your bone elsewhere." I rolled my eyes and shook my head.
"Well you have promised me a nice long bj when this is all over and done with." Biscuit reminded me groping himself with a loud slurp of his lips. I groaned mentally weeping. I had forgotten...stupid Gravy. This was all his fault.
We kept walking as we turned the final corner. The air seemed to get heavier with each step we took. It had an acrid taste to it. Not smell but an actual taste. It smelled like a furnace. They didn't need to position guards here. This place alone would keep any sane creature out. The metal bars were blackened by soot and blood smered the walls and intestines lined the floor. A torture chamber really.
"So...what makes this 612 so special then? Other then him being a puppy dog." Biscuit asked looking around nervously. He was seeing as to why I'd be going to all this trouble for a dog. And the only thought that came to mind was that...
"He's my dog." I said simply. It was the truth after all. The Brutus series could never replace the dog I lost. They weren't even like children to me. Just work...but 612 wasn't like that. He's the only dog I ever let eat at the table after all, heh. "And he's not a puppy anymore." I said gesturing in front of us through the screened wall.
Hanging from a hook on the wall, covered in barb wired was a rather beat up, torn and scarred faced rottweiler I had formly called Maximus. "Been a while 612." I spoke aloud placing my hands behind me and looking up at the dog. I got a small wag of a tail in response...