Page 28 of Monstrous Rampage
14
REKT
Initiating wake sequence. Designation SPTD, primary databanks online. Running biologic checks.
Icould hear the commands but wasn’t yet aware of my body. I tried to remember how many times this had happened before, but any memories I might have had were gone, even though my databanks were up.
I knew what I was. Even if I had no memory of being this particular entity.
Name Rekt. Designation SPTD of Dynosauros, owned by Draco Sirius Command. Specialist. Medic.
Because of my designation, I knew exactly what they were restarting. While in hibernation, all biologic systems were minimized to control cell regeneration. I didn’t remember the last mission, though there must have been one. I didn’t remember reporting back to HQ and being put to sleep. Back on ice, we called it, though our physical bodies couldn’t withstand long-term freezing without rupturing cells.
Part of me wished they’d simply cut my cells apart to build some new creature and let this iteration end.
The trials and missions in the past must not have ended well for me, or I’d remember them. DSC used past experiences for training purposes, iterating repeatedly to make the best, most agile dynos in his designation. Mistakes were training opportunities for future iterations. Failures were wiped and no longer existed.
Yet here I am. A virtual blank slate. Awaiting new orders.
Cardiovascular system, check. Respiratory, digestive, nervous systems coming online now. I could blink my eyes and noted the cover of my sleep chamber rising. My heart pumped faster, though it took me a moment to analyze why. Dread. Anticipation. A chance to live. A chance to be put back to sleep, perhaps this time forever.
“Congratulations, SPTD,” a male voice said. “You’ve been selected for a new, very important mission.”
I sat up in the tube, barely large enough to hold my physical body. Automatically, I took in my surroundings, noting the sleep chambers on either side and across from me. Enough for twenty dyni, though only thirteen others were occupied.
Odd. This wasn’t HQ, then. There’d be hundreds of sleep chambers, rows as far as I could see. How did I know such basic information—yet I couldn’t remember anything about me physically being there?
“Orders transmitted,” the pleasant voice continued. “Please acknowledge.”
The file opened automatically, data flowing into my frontal cortex. Yet I didn’t immediately understand what it meant.
Engage human female for breeding. Gain her trust and assist her with choosing members to form a new compatible squad.
“Please acknowledge, SPTD,” the voice repeated.
“Acknowledged,” I said aloud. “Though I don’t understand.”
“Her name is Holly, and she knows me as Snyder.” A silver agent flowed up out of the floor and stepped closer, the voice I’d heard. “You may direct your clarifying questions to me.”
Too many questions cluttered my brain space, so I paused, sorted, and organized by priority. Some I could immediately answer myself with a quick query to my databanks. Human, as in from planet Earth, not previously documented as being of interest to DSC at all. Breeding files were readily available, including basic notes about human copulation. Even a few seconds of a video recording, though the image was grainy and skippy, as if the camera had been damaged. I couldn’t see much more than small pale legs around a much larger dark shape. Dynos, I thought, though the quality of the recording was so poor I couldn’t identify his designation.
“This isn’t a breeding station,” I finally said, even though it wasn’t a question.
“We operate a private facility,” Snyder replied.
Again, I understood the words themselves, yet they made no sense. “Separate from Draco Sirius Command?”
“Private,” Snyder repeated. “We are off the grid entirely.”
Off the grid. Breeding.
The ramifications crashed through me one after another. Reeling, I almost laid back down into the chamber and shut it myself.
An off the grid breeding facility. With a human female, no less. Someone was trying to make their own dyni squads. Outside of DSC controls. And breed new stock completely off the grid.
Private explained why there weren’t very many occupied chambers. It also explained why I had no personal memories whatsoever. I’d been completely wiped by DSC, more than likelytagged for decommissioning, which allowed Snyder’s primary controllers to intercept me.
If HQ found out…
