February 11, 2009. 8:34pm. Cold.
I was alone that night. My palms were sweaty. The computers in the background were humming.
The results from the most recent test were due any minute, and my
thoughts rested solely on the answers that I knew were coming.
Diagnostically alarming--if the results were to come out into
the real world, I can only imagine the repercussions.
Area 51 is
real. Oh yeah. I've worked here for over a decade now. The spacecraft
that landed on that fateful day carried thirteen injured aliens. We
had nine left when I began Test5. We had to understand their internal
workings. It was all very confusing to begin with, and the archaic
technology we worked with back in the old days may as well have been
hacksaws and leeches. Test3 had been moderately successful, replacing
one of the alien's heart with a human one. Wanted to know if the
biologies of our two species could work together. Turns out the alien
body goes out of its way to incorporate new organs. Test4 put two
human hearts in an alien. Neither 3 nor 4 survived, of course. But the
results were astonishing. Test3 stayed alive for a further
week. Test4 for several months.
It was when they started
internally modifying the hearts that we got interested. Internally,
these aliens had the ability to assimilate foreign objects into their
physiology. When those two died, the hearts we tested afterward were
neither alien nor human. A hybrid heart. Robert Jarvik would be proud.
There
was a buzz on my console. I looked around at my office--a single room
with a giant mirror on one side and a locked door
on the other. Someone wanted in. I nodded, just once, at the mirror. I
looked like crap. My skin was pale, my eyes soft and doughy. Mother
wouldn't recognize me now.
Two men with rifles entered, followed
by Dr. Morris. Nice guy. Eats too many doughnuts. Had an affair with his secretary that didn't end when his wife
committed suicide.
"How are you?" he asked. I didn't respond,
just looked right at him. He walked up to me and put his hand on my
shoulder, a fatherly gesture that felt false when he did it. I had kids
once. "We're going to end this test."
I wasn't surprised. The results were in. It was a success. Complete integration
"You
knew the danger when you signed up." He was consoling me. The men with
guns, I saw, were pointing the business ends at me. He took his hand
off my shoulder, walked swiftly out the door.
They fired two quick rounds into my head.
February 14, 2009. 2:00am. Still cold
When
my body finally finished processing the lead that had been forcefully
placed in my skull, I woke up. Couldn't breathe, so my body told me to
just stop. I did. Always listen to your body. It knows best. I think
they have me in storage. Test6 is likely about to start. They
probably think I'm dead.
Happy Valentine's day, Marie. I'll be home soon.
you said "re test5: total crap" to kthejoker (sent to 1 noder)
(r) kthejoker says Go ahead. Try and supersede that genius.
Special thanks to gitm, who inspired me to take kthejoker up on his offer and for giving me the idea to go with an Area 51 type story