“Investigation”
“Part 7, Imposition”
Author: It_that_watches
A breath of winter air whorled its way down the gravel driveway, causing Matthew to shudder from the sudden chill. He stopped briefly and adjusted his hoodie before continuing his march. A gentle warmth and tightness crossed his chest. A soft voice followed.
“Mistaw Winstin feew bettaw? Nice mistaw nu haf’ fwuff fow keep wawm.”
His pace slowed.
“What… did you just say?”
“Um- Ummm… B-Bwiaw jus’ say d-dat…”
“You aren’t in trouble. I’m not angry.”
“Nice mistaw nu haf’ fwuff… Su… Bwiaw wan share wawmsies…”
He thought for a moment, coming to a standstill just out of sight of the fluffies frolicking around in the yard. His head cocked to the side a bit as he looked down into Briar’s golden eyes, twinkling in the winter sun peeking through the trees.
The moss-covered forest seemed to stretch endlessly around them, muffling all sound.
The moment of serenity was spoiled as Lump violently jerked his body.
A caked-on layer of hardened dirt crumbled under Matthew’s grip and fell away, giving him the breathing room he needed to speak his grievances. He wasn’t too happy about being dragged away from not only his herd, but his foal and “nuw housie”.
“Dummeh! Aww dummeh! HIC-ACK!”
Matthew’s softening expression creased again, and he began to walk. He was one of the primary reasons these abominations walked the earth, and even surrounded by nature he could not rid himself of them. Lump reminded him of all of the terrible aspects of these misshapen things.
Filthy. Stupid.
He tightened his grip. He hastened his pace.
Ugly. Brutish.
Twigs snapped and ferns were smashed aside as he quickly stepped from the drive and onto a side path.
ARROGANT. LAZY.
He broke into a clearing. The scent of frozen earth and arboreal decay hanged heavily in the air.
ABHORRENT. IRREDEEMABLE.
Lump gasped as he was released violently into a great crater in the earth.
“You can stay out here and freeze. Or starve. Preferably whichever is more painful.”
The stallion groaned as he attempted to turn over. Cold spines of chill uneven earth jabbed him in the now unarmored back, every movement causing the dirt-caked ends of his coat to clatter together. Already he could feel the cruel fingers of winter begin to dig into his flesh.
“Wuh… Wuhm… Whump gon’… Gonna…”
“Gonna what? Kill me? Just like you’ve no doubt killed so many other fluffies? I’m not one of your fuzzy little friends. I’m not gonna roll over and submit just because you’re puffing out your cheeks and raising your voice. You’ve long expended your chances; I’ve been watching and waiting for this.”
He spit at Lump, striking him in one of his discolored eyes as he attempted to gain his bearings.
“Maybe come spring you’ll do the world some out here. Someday your rotten hide might feed life of far more value. Maybe a patch of moss or blackberry bush. Anything but you, you waste.
He looked up at the torn-up roots of the tree that once occupied Lump’s soon to be grave.
“Fucking hell. Anything but you.”
He continued along the path in muted stride, mind full of fury, heart aching in equal measure. Why did they have to be like this? Why…
“Uh- Umm…”
He looked down at the same eyes he beheld before, now with the addition of a furrowed brow and expression of unease.
“Mhm… Right.”
Matthew dropped onto his knees and released Briar, where she promptly hopped from his lap and span around to face him. She looked up with a mixture of bewilderment, apprehension, and resolve all jumbled up in her fuzzy little head.
“Weaw… Heaw… Bwiaw fink weaw, um… heaw…”
“What?” Matthew confusedly replied. “Here? Where is here?”
He looked around and realized that he must have gotten caught up in his own thoughts he’d travelled a bit further than he had intended to.
“We are on… a logging trail. Used to be old growth here. Now it’s just…”
He gestured around ineffectually. The surrounding acres were rich in younger trees, the result of a clearcut and replanting decades back, evergreens all.
“Bwiaw fink su tu. Big twee pwace am pwetty.”
“Ahah, that’s… exactly what I meant. Yeah, it has its charm.”
Slowly, he extended a hand and gently ruffled her hair. Subconsciously she leaned into the action, the euphoria of human interaction washing over her for the first time in what seemed like forever. For about a minute, the world seemed reduced to the two of them- finding beauty in what new life had managed to take root in this pillaged land.
“Nu can weave Wump dewe. Wump gonna get wet out oaw kwimb out.”
He realized at that moment that he had a few questions for her.
“Wait, climb out? How could he possibly climb out? And who’s gonna pull him out out here? Oh and you said that ‘we’re here’ too; How could you have possibly known I was coming out here to dispose of him?”
“Weww, dis am wewe fwuffies get weft inna twee pwace.”
“Pardon?”
“Yu say at housie yu wan’ Bwiaw hewp yu fin’ wewe fwuffies comin’ fwom.”
She unceremoniously stomped down on a hither unto overlooked tire track. Then pointed at the crater Lump was now trying to climb out of.
“Dis am wewe vwoom-vwoom munstah gif’ fwuffies tu big twee pwace, an Bwiaw knu fwuffies cwimb outta howe acause Wump push Bwiaw in dat howe an Bwiar fin’ way out unda’ big twee hoofsie.”
Moreso watching in disbelief than in a position to argue, Matthew stumbled to his feet and followed the little grey mare. On the other side of the fallen tree-stump was a passage that he could see light coming through. Indeed, there was a way out from under. She began to push dirt down into the hole, presumable in an attempt to close the path.
“Here, Briar.” Matthew said as he lifted her off the ground. “I’ll just…”
He brought his heel down on the frigid topsoil surrounding the entrance, collapsing a great deal of earth into it, where he then half-heartedly kicked more debris on top.
“That should stop him. Now, what did you say about a car?”
Briar looked to the ground, and then back towards the trail.
“Owd smawty keep hewd neaw heaw beeneef big piaw of faww down twees fow make nesties an’ nuw fwuffies appeaw heaw at dawk times. Vwoom-vwoom munstah nu wan fwuffies nu moaw su smawtie take foaw hewd.”
“We are less than a mile from my house. This is… this is…”
He looked around the surrounding trees for anything that could help him make sense of this revelation. All he found was a bright yellow property marker banded around a tree. This helped narrow down the area, but it did not help with his state of mind.
“This is literally still on my property.”
He made it only a few steps from the pit before collapsing to the floor. Fearful flame ran through his veins. He felt violated, insulted, angry… scared. Did they even know this was his property or was it simply a good place to offload defective fluffies?
He considered what he knew. He considered what might be the reasoning or methodologies.
-
Dr. Harriet was helping defective fluffies escape from the production facility through an unknown method, for a reason that did not matter- the crime was unforgivable.
-
Someone was delivering them to this area via vehicle on nights of the full moon, most likely to give them the best chance of navigating their new terrain.
-
This area is a logging ground with seldom used access roads. Within hearing distance was a creek that led to a protected wetland- they would have a higher survival rate there.
-
This has been going on for a while- at least three lunar cycles, and a full moon was approaching. Any window to prevent more escapes was closing quickly.
-
Either Hasbio corporate security was complicit with this, or they were somehow unaware.
-
He was unsure who he could trust, but he knew where to start.
“C’mon Briar. Let’s go back home. I’ve got some thinking to do. A lot of cleaning house to plan.”
“Oh nuuu… p-pwease nu haf’ maddies at Bwiaw wike owd Daddeh… Bwiaw nu make messies in house!”
He couldn’t help but let out a half-laugh, half-sigh.
“No… The house is clean. You aren’t in trouble.”
He paused pensively before continuing.
“Did your old daddy make messes and blame them on you? What did he do?”
He scooped her into his arms with possibly more grace than he’d ever used on a fluffy and began to walk. He pulled her in close to his chest.
“Owd daddeh stawt act diffowent… Daddeh suddenwy awways haf’ maddies teww Bwiaw dat Bwiaw du aww bad fings dat happen. Say Bwiaw am bad.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Nice Mistaw Winstin? Owd daddeh tawk ‘bout Devaw. Bwiaw teww owd daddeh Bwiaw nu evah meet Devaw, but daddeh stiww haf maddies. Do Nice Mistaw knu Devaw? Am Devaw nice?”
He couldn’t help but let out another half-hearted chuckle.
“I’ve never met the Devil, but I let you know if I ever do*.*”
“I’m sure we’ll meet someday.”
Matthew sauntered down the curated concrete path with a cloud of manic tension behind him. Before him, surrounded by a high-barred metal fence stood a concrete monolith.
“Hasbio Production Campus, Department C”
“Morning Dr. Winston, ID please?”
Like he’d done countless times before, he passed through the front gate.
“This is the only way in or out, isn’t it?”
An engine roared from behind the building, as if to respond to the inquiry.
Right, the utility accessway. These buildings produce a lot of waste, and it has to go somewhere. That’s most likely where the vehicle is picking up the defective fluffies. The escapees.
First thing first, how was this going unnoticed? With all of the archival and cataloguing we do here its next to impossible that so many of these things escaped unnoticed. There must be discrepancies in the data- something that wouldn’t add up, be it numbers or status.
First thing to do would be check the Hasbio BioAsset Registry. It should have information on ever fluffy that has ever been in this facility. And I know exactly what to check.
The doors to the administrative complex swung wide with assistance from the brisk morning air, crating an overly dramatic silhouette of which he was completely unaware, though the sudden display so early caused some heads to turn. Dr. Winston did after all have a sort of reputation as an unhinged sociopath.
“Carolina, I need access to the archives.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“This early? Sure, whatever- credentials please.”
A moment passed as she processed his ID.
“How’s Twilight doing?”
Matthew’s drifting mind snapped back to attention.
“Twily? She’s… doing… great, actually. Learning about the world really quickly.”
She passed back his ID and a nearby door buzzed open.
“Thanks, Care. Not a lot of people care. Most of ‘em just wanna forget about her.”
She shrugged and shook her head.
“She’s a sweet little thing. You take good care of her.”
He felt an unnatural warmth as he passed the threshold into the building proper.
“Thanks. I really do try.”
The residual warmth of her genuine words and bright smile warmed him to his very bones. He clasped his hands together, interlocking fingers simulating something he can’t remember ever felling before. He didn’t know what to do with this feeling, so he just held on to it.
It wasn’t often that he walked these laminate halls with a smile on his face, but the experience wasn’t unwelcome. He really didn’t want to feel like he needed external validation, however… he had no reference on how he was doing. It was nice to know that others saw her as a blossoming little flower.
His smile broadened.
His attention wandered, and he didn’t realize that another familiar character was nearby.
“Dr. Winston?”
He snapped to attention at the sound of the voice.
“Yes, sir?”
“No need for formalities Matthew. This isn’t another hearing.”
He chuckled lightly.
“Right, sorry Mr. Rosseur. I just… Ugh…”
He trailed off.
“So, I’m curious. Why are you here?”
“I uh… work here? Just like you?”
“Well… Not exactly. Our fields diverge greatly. I don’t know the first thing about bioengineering, and I’m certain you don’t care a bit about the legal side of things. I’m very certain of that, actually. Your past actions-”
Matthew interjected cheerily, drawing attention from what sparse employees were just now filing in.
“Hey, Henry- Check this out. I want to show you some of the progress we’ve made!”
He keyed into the archival database. Henry followed him into the cold room filled with the whirring of servers and the scent of ozone. They approached a terminal, upon which Matthew unceremoniously threw his phone. He idly unlocked it and navigated to a picture of Blaine.
The fluffy lay on a towel in a wire cage, looking up with a mix of defiance and fear on his features. He looked far wearier than any fluffy was capable of being, an appearance of both rebellion and acceptance.
“Matthew, I appreciate your enthusiasm for the company’s products, but I don’t see what-”
He was cut off before he could finish his thought.
“Just trust me.”
Matthew began to type into the data recall engine.
On the buzzing screen displayed before them, was a very familiar sight. The site admin raised an eyebrow as he lifted his coffee mug to his mouth.
COMPLEX 1, HASBIO PRODUCTION ARCHIVE
PLEASE INPUT YOUR QUERY
INQUIRY CATEGORY: PRODUCTION ASSET PROPERTIES
ASSET SERIAL: G6L4-U801012
RETRIEVING DATA PLEASE STAND BY
RETRIEVAL COMPLETED IN (>1SEC)
HASBIO BIOTOY PROTOTYPE ARCHIVE
ASSET ID: G6L4-U801012
UNIT COMPLETION: 05/05/2042
PHENOTYPE: 1 (UNICORN)
PARAMETERS: ALTRU-LONGE
MODIFICATIONS: NONE
ASSET PROPERTIES: COAT/BLUE, MANE/MAROON, EYES/GREEN
PRODUCTION CYCLE NOTES: PROMISING INTELLIGENCE, EXCELLENT MEMORY, GOOD COORDINATION, LEVEL TEMPERAMENT
RECOMMENDATIONS: FULL CYCLE OBSERVATION, STEM PUNCTURE, PM NEUROMAPPING, PM STEM EXTRACTION, PM DISASSEMBLY
CURRENT PROGRAM: N/A
CURRENT LOCATION: N/A
ASSET STATUS: ASSET INCINERATED 07/25/2044
OTHER NOTES: NONE
“See anything odd?”
“You’ve been taking the production prototypes out of the facility? You know that’s against every regulation in every book we have, right?”
“How…”
He paused for a moment, considering what he beheld.
“Such a promising prototype, incinerated? Hmm… And with no explanation given. In addition,-”
Matthew glared with consternation at not only what he was reading, but the man beside him. Ross leaned in and squinted at the photo on Matthew’s phone.
“Blaine 08/15/2044”
His hand was stopped short of picking up Matthew’s phone. He withdrew it with an understanding nod. His free hand rested itself back on the terminal desk.
“This prototype… it looks to be in pretty good shape for having been reduced to ashes.”
He took another sip of coffee, shifting to face Matthew.
“You are absolutely sure this is the same fluffy?”
“Dead sure.” he replied, “Not only did it give me its own serial, but it also named the person that helped it escape. One ‘Doctor Harriet” as I heard. I happen to know one of those.”
“And you’re taking a feral fluffy’s word as gospel?”
“Gods no, Ross- but still… I do need to do some looking around. I find it hard to believe that someone in my department would ever think of releasing these things unguided and half-fueled. Still, the information I’ve been so far able to recover from those invading lawn gnomes is uncannily accurate to what goes on during a prod-cycle.
“I’m gonna keep carrying on like everything is fine. If you can get me any information at all on who’s helping these things escape… call me directly. I need to know as soon as possible so I can… so I can… well if I get to that river and there’s no bridge, I’ll make one, bet?”
“Dr. Winston if any of this is true, it is a very serious matter. Corporate security will need to be notified.”
“Ross, we don’t know for sure who’s letting them out still. Or how they’re getting out. Security could be involved for all we know. We can’t let on that we know that anything is wrong.” he let out a deep sigh as the liaison continued to sip coffee. “I only told you because I need… you know…”
“You need me to make sure admin turns a blind eye to your diversions?”
“Well, yeah that, but also a lot of the stuff I might need to do to get a handle on this might involve… destruction of company property. Prototypes, tracking chips, pharmaceuticals… anything else I might need to make use of.”
“So criminal behavior then.”
“Yeah, criminal behavior.”
“Again?”
“Yeah, again.”
Matthew looked up from the console, the liaison looking on with an expression of irritated understanding.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“Dr. Winston, if this comes to light, I’ll see what I can do to defend the company. If defending you is in our interests, it’ll happen. Still…”
He let out an annoyed sigh, looking up into Matthew’s eyes over the rim of his glasses.
“Just don’t get caught.”
Experienced biotoy technicians and first-day interns alike took a wide berth around Dr. Winston as he stalked methodically through the halls of Department C’s “Breeding Ground” facilities. The world’s first and foremost carousel of agony. All around him could be heard the sounds of… well… Laughing and giggling, but he knew what was really knew what was going. He just had to find it.
“Oh lord who let her out again?"
“DEAR GOD WHAT THE HELL!? SEC- SECURITY-”
“NO, NO, no. You are not to call for anyone. This is sanctioned. A promise to the rest of them. This is what happens to the defects that step out of line. You bite, you get bitten back. If you need one, newbies, take a fiver.”
Several junior researchers fled down the pathway towards and past him, some holding their heads, some clutching their equipment close to their chests, all of them covered in various levels of blood, viscera, and multicolored fluff.
“Doctor Tate, I see our little angel of death is still making herself useful?”
The lightly begored man looked up lazily from his work, face lightly illuminated by the glow of his workpad.
“Ah, Doctor Winston I was just about to call you. Number 36 is making a nuisance of herself, even while being useful. Scaring interns, killing the wrong fluffies, causing a general mess, you know the deal.
Matthew smiled. He knew the deal.
“What’s the deal today then? Defects?”
“Yep. One of the little blighters in the “ALTRU-LONGE” program decided that biting a handler was the best way to protect its friends from the big mean techs was to convince some of their buddies to bite the guy and make a break for an exit.” He laughed aloud. “What exit? It’s a holding pen. We gathered up the rest of the fluffies in the batch to see if anyone else had been contaminated and pleasantly enough, some of them reported them without even being prompted. Said they were going to be bad fluffies. Those ones were rewarded.”
“And the ones that were on the fence?”
“Without looking away from his workpad, he flicked the tail end of his pen towards a nearby enclosure setup. Two connected holding areas were separated by a glass pane. On the far side of the rear pen were horrified fluffies of all types, like a floofy rainbow of shivering static, trying not to witness the voracious phantasmagoria mere meters from them. Their staggered desperate wheezing amplified their fear- they could not even speak to comfort one another. Truly, it was a sight most would rather not behold.
Ahh, Hasbio Department C’s little mascot. Our precious, precocious, perfect “Little Pony H-S4BL#36”. A beautiful albinic angel and shining example of what fluffies should have been… well, sorta…
Currently muzzle deep in the chest cavity of a silently screaming (and presumably at some point blue) fluffy was just the same little pony. Matthew watched in silent observation of one of his earliest creations, as his eldest living “daughter” tore out rib after rib, one by one, with methodical glee.
She snarled like some deranged beast as she tore into its still warm liver.
“Hello, Wight.”
The little ponies’ ears perked up, and her head snapped around like an excited predator. With it, came the remnants of her work. She licked her pearly teeth clean and spit aside a particularly stubborn chunk of gristly sinew aside. Her smile was wide, bloody, and bit unhinged, but still as she cantered over and gently pressed the top of her head into his outstretched hand… he could still feel the connection.
“Hey dad…” Her ears fluttered as she spoke, and for a moment she seemed more lucid. “I’m helping these fluffies learn what happens if you’re bad. Also, its lunch anyways.”
She snickered to herself as she swayed back and forth. After a couple more seconds of having her head scratched, she began back towards her work.
“I’m helping. Helping Uncle Tate.”
“I take it… Tate, that you’ve got no problem with the more… extreme methods of behavior correction and asset disposal.”
“Of course not Dr. Winston, I do have a background in robotics after all. It’s easier for me to see the parallels between the biotoys and primitive learning machines. Programming organics isn’t as easy or reliable as programming machines, but it’s still doable. I mean we wouldn’t have been doing it for this long if it didn’t work to at least some degree.”
“Right. It takes people a while to catch onto the patterns. Once you know what to look for, it’s easier.”
“And that is what we’re doing right now, modifying memory. What some of the others call needlessly traumatic, you and I realize is just the easiest way to nudge their inclinations. The prototyping-phase neuro-elastic genemasks need the intense stimuli to sufficiently motivate their next of kin, and if the next generation comes out ‘traumatized’, well we can just get a blank template from the reservoir.”
He looked up from his work, his pen unmoving for the first time since their conversation started.
“This method may be slow, but we both know what happens when you try to load on too much genetic memory at once. Personally, I believe this is because of developmental complexity. An example: 36’s psyche fractured as her nervous system became more complex with age. We don’t have the same problem with fluffies because they are machines- simple neural networks.”
A cold look of satisfaction dug into his face.
“The ALTRU-LONGE group is showing great promise. Once we get their ingrained behaviors within the desired parameters, we might have a line of fluffies that actually behaves out of the box.”
“Keep me informed. Oh… and keep Wight safe.”
She means a great deal to the company.
“Sure Dr. Winston, the company.”
The clang and clatter of the maintenance catwalks high above the incubation complex floor caught the attention of Matthew’s next quarry before he had closed any significant distance. Others looked on for below, but the two figures they could see were much to far away to hear, especially over the hum of the various machines.
The man did not look away from his delicate work.
“Doctor Winston, you know you can’t be up here.”
“I know I shouldn’t be up here, but I don’t know about that ‘can’t’ part.”
After all, here he was up here. All he had to do was bypass one gate.
“What do you want? I’m busy.”
“Doing what?”
He glared daggers.
“Fixing this armature. One of the motivators is burnt out, and it’s putting a heavy load on the other. This thing starts listing sideways when it tries to grab a pod its gonna smash it, it’s contents, the delicate machinery behind it… very fucking expensive. Satisfied?”
Matthew leaned on the side railing, much to the chagrin of the engineer.
“I dunno. You mentioned contents just now. What did you mean by that?”
He paused.
“The products, doctor. The things that my machines keep alive.”
“So… the prototypes then.”
With one fluid motion he slammed the panel of the armature shut and it swung down into the room below like a great metal python. The sound as it roared past on its guiderail was near deafening.
“Yeah. Those things. Don’t much care for ‘em. Daughter wanted one, so we got her a cat. The only problem we’ve had dealing with those… things… is having to explain why the cat’s spitting up rainbow colored hairballs.”
He wiped the grease from his hands with a rag.
“Those things don’t win fights.”
“I’m satisfied. Keep up the good work. You’ve never done otherwise so… take this as a confirmation, I guess.”
He scoffed and rotated his shoulder, a faint “pop” barely audible over the vibration of the rails.
“You didn’t break anything on your way up here, right? You gotta tell me if you did.”
“Nothing physical, just a bunch of regulations.”
“Aye.” He nodded. “Let’s both get back to it then.”
Matthew waited patiently in the main throughfare of the Habitation Pens. This part of Complex C was where fluffies that were not being used for anything were kept in blissful mediocrity, relatively clean and safe from the outside world. An interminable chorus of squeaking voices echoed through the halls, carrying with it the sounds of play, idle chatter, and occasionally arguments.
“Fwuffy wuv ‘ou!”
“Fwuffy nu wan du tests!”
“Fwuffy wan out sowwie-boxie!”
Soon enough, he had what he wanted. Some isolated intern.
“Excuse me young man, do you have a moment to help me with something in here.”
Avenues were starting to narrow down.
It seemed obvious now, but whoever was helping these things escape must be working with them directly. And it didn’t feel like they had to be that high up either. External security was top notch, but he’d already proven today that internal security wasn’t up to par in some places. Particularly maintenance.
“Sure thing, what’s going on?”
“The fluffies in here, they’ve been scheduled for decommissioning, but I don’t see anything wrong with them, at least not what’s written here… these reports might be for another holding pen. I’d like to avoid any unnecessary… you know.”
“Yeah, I’ve been here for a bit. I know.”
As the man steeped into the room, he saw exactly what was wrong. Rapid genetic degradation- the poor little fluffies were only about a month old and already wilting from age. Their colors were growing muted, and they themselves were sleeping heavily.
The door slid shut.
“I’m glad you understand kid. Unnecessary paperwork.”
He slowly turned to see the tall figure standing by the door.
“Ohh…”
His voice pitched up; confidence caught in his throat.
“It’s uh- it’s you, Sir.”
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