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4am. The alarm went off throughout the research unit. I was already running late. The standard wake up call was more of a final warning. It paid to be up an hour earlier. Cleaning drains, endless, laborious paperwork and box ticking. Another exam on recognising dogscape infection signs. The yearly six week capability assessment period, in which the units bureaucracy goes off the scale and we're worked constantly beyond exhaustion. In its early stages we have managed to disinfect areas contaminated by dogscape. Alarms and flashing lights, 3am, infection alert, infection alert. We charge into dressing areas, sick, tired, into full body suits. Outside into the blistering cold, spraying down some wall with a chemical blend. In all my time living here, all the time I have been alive, I have never dealt with a genuine outbreak. There are stories that suggest it has happened. Before practice runs we're told of the legitimate threat of dogscape leaking from the higher level research facilities. Sometimes, I get curious. I'd like to go and see some of the deliberately infected chambers for myself. There are all kinds of rumours as to what is kept down there. The dogman of unit 6b. That's a popular one. A low ranking custodian went crazy and attempted to bring about a massive infection, intent on wiping out the entire facility. The story goes he ate some dogflesh from an examination tank in his manic state. It began to take effect almost immediately, hair growing over his skin, hideous growths, teeth deforming, canines enlarged. This grotesque canine hybrid went on a rampage, biting several officers who attempted to restrain him. All those infected during the attack were 'put down'. This left none to the tell the tale. Nobody to verify its truth. They finally managed to contain the dogman in a cell, where he is still sustained and monitored by higher level staff. Pacing in circles, becoming less and less human as time goes by. They study him apparently, subject him to painful experiments to see if they can establish a dogscape remedy. They say they'll feed you to the dogman if you screw something up. They joke that he escaped and nobody knows where he is anymore. Traversing through the unit in the early hours, watchmen discuss the prospect of the dogman leaping out and ripping their throats open. There's stories about a female research assistant going missing too. They say she found out some sinister secret about the unit and was imprisoned and infected with dogscape. The two were made to breed, the humanoid puppies would provide a further source of experimentation. They say she believed the facility was staffed by kidnapped children. Nobody here recalls their childhood before the facility. Parents, families and other such old world phenomena do not occur here. They persist, however, out in the dogscape A colleague told me this woman found documents verifying her position. That researchers would sent out special units to kill Mothers and Fathers and take their children. Burying them in the dogflesh after the murder, so as not to leave a trace. I thought about these stories as I scrubbed rust off an external metal wall. Was I was kidnapped by the unit? Perhaps these rumours had some basis in reality, and were I not captured, I'd be out there in some tribe, surviving the vast wilderness. I'm not sure if either situation could be preferable to the other, but the sense of an injustice having been done, having been denied something, moved me to anger all the same. Then there was the possibility so many generations had passed here, enough time had gone by, that myths were bound to develop and become ingrained into our conscious. The unit was vast. There was more here than I'd ever see in my life. It was not unusual for somebody who rocked the boat to be sent elsewhere, never to be seen again. Who knows though, perhaps the whole thing was made up. The dogman, the special kidnapping forces. Still, you at least felt something when you thought about these things. |