Lazmora's Dance (Chapter 2)

Chapter 2

Out of all the buildings in the city, only one stood out among the other low-rise structures. Perched on top of a steep hill on the east side of the city was what was simply referred to as “The Hospital.” A towering, cinder-block faced rock that loomed over the city – and yet retained the sterile look of a decent medical facility, the only difference was if a curious traveler wandered too close, a Jeep carrying two identically armed guards met them in mid-stride and escorted them back into town. Each time, they were given the same excuse: “The Hospital has been quarantined by the Federal Government. For your own safety, we advise you leave the immediate area.”

If that wasn’t enough to coax the unwanted to leave, they were always ready to let their two standard-issued M-16’s persuade them further. After a few years, this urgency to “preserve the health of the immediate public” began to attract conspiracy theorists of all sorts. Even so, the reason for secrecy was always the same, and The Hospital came to be a name synonymous with Area 51. Yet, as if defying human nature, nobody came. No cameras, no TV shows, no postcards. It was there… and yet the world had somehow made a conscious effort not to think about it, or what could be inside. That was a secret held on so tightly, that even the residents could only harbor speculation.

In truth, The Hospital was an illusion. One so thorough that in the unlikely event that the entire building seen above the ground were to disappear, there would still be reason to pay the guards. This was a facility contained completely underground. The hill served only as the upper level. The manmade cave that was referred to under a different title stretched underneath the city in all directions, serving not as a hospital, but as the largest and most secure laboratory the Arcane Revolution had ever funded. Its purpose was not medicine, but specialized research. But even a child could tell that a research facility would not need such high measures of security. At best, that sort of place would only require one underpaid human guarding a hut with a wood stick hanging in front of the road. This massive lab was protected by a force that could stand up against and easily repel an S.W.A.T. Team, and perhaps even a small army. What wasn’t apparent on the outside became very real on the inside.

A web of corridors streaked out from the main entrance – a large lift resting inside a room marked “RADIOLOGY” somewhere deep inside The Hospital – and for every corridor were at least fifty doors. While the doors in The Hospital were only a precaution to fool anyone who would see inside the building, each one underground inside the facility had its purpose. Guards stood watch in each hall with their rifles armed from muzzle to stock. Night vision scopes were fully adjusted on the body of the guns, along with an attachment that was designed for grenade rounds. But inside the facility, lethal force was not considered as an option. With the amount of sensitive equipment, foot traffic, and specimens, the guns were loaded with tranquilizers and tear gas. Tests had shown that everybody inside was vulnerable to the cocktails stored in those high-power rifles. In the center of the maze, directly under the asylum, was a constantly closed door painted red. It was the only other color than white in the sterile web work, and inside there was even more to be seen. The door contained a cavernous and separate laboratory that was different than all the others. While the hundreds of smaller labs were devoted to research and refinery, this main room served as the cornerstone of the Arcane Revolutions existence. The whitewash room sank more than ten stories deep and resembled a missile silo. On every level of this cylinder was a steel catwalk that clutched the walls. Each ten levels were connected by small stairwells, and two bisecting steel walks that cut the large circles into fourths. Exactly twenty people roamed this cylinder, two to each level. One to each half. Half of what?

The walls of the cylinder were not quite walls as they were stacks, Stacks of smaller cylinders. Two hundred of them lined the outer borders of the lab like cans on a store shelf, only that this store didn’t sell produce. When you worked in a subterranean, secretly funded laboratory that was guarded by the militia, you didn’t sell things. You made them, and you made them in bulk.

The Cylinder buzzed with electricity as the twenty scientists moderated the conditions of the stock-tubes. A few of them made their partner on the other side of the catwalks aware of any situations or improvements.

“D-24 is almost finished with his final development stage,” stated a 4th Floor employee.

“Keep an eye on him if he’s canine. You know as well as I do that they don’t respond to control if they get too far along,” the partner replied.

“No, he’s feline. 84% finished. I’ll release him when he reaches 95% so they have enough time to chip him.”

Each stock-tube held one specimen, one body. They contained the genes of not one species, but two - or even three. D-24 was a cross between human and jaguar; a breed that was known to be tactical and stealthy, but reckless if left to itself for a prolonged amount of time. Inside the facility, they were creating a new line of species – an army of them.

“E-08 is ready to be released,” a worker one level down stated, and a sharp click was heard. Within seconds, the mentioned tube was gone, and an empty one took its place, “E-08 released. E-09 beginning initial development stages, Hybrid element: coyote.”

These were the primary sounds of the Cylinder. One specimen finished, click, new specimen in development. Yet another one complete, click, yet another one started. For those who weren’t used to the eerie stock of part-human part-animal bodies, it was a sight to behold. But most were numb to the green-white afterglow of the Cylinder as if it was another day of the week.

“D-24 is at 95%,” click, “Released, D-25 beginning.”

The tube containing the jaguar hybrid slipped into a pitch-black, perfectly-sized chute as it was released, and was drawn upwards and out of the Cylinder in an unknown direction for what seemed only a moment. Then, it slowly decelerated and light once again greeted the specimen as it stopped inside another large room. This time, though, the room was long and narrow, holding a river of white beds that were connected to their own stack of monitors and wires. If the normally quiet beeping of the heart monitors weren’t muted, they would have easily driven the most level-headed soul completely insane and even more likely would have deafened them.

Bubbles began to rise against the jaguar’s fur as the liquid surrounding him was drained away. Once it was completely empty, a machine turned the tube carefully on its side and two pairs of human hands helped the body out onto a stretcher. He was rolled to a corner of the room where the beds had been removed; the space was now cluttered with tools and trays that resembled a dentist’s office.

The two scientists quickly worked around the jaguar hybrid. Tubes were stuffed into its airways, oxygen was pumped in, and sedatives were simultaneously added to keep him from gaining consciousness. Finally, for the first time, the chest began to rise and fall, and the rhythmic beat of the heart began.

“Inserting control chip for D-24…” an equally monotonous voice droned.

An abrupt snap echoed in the lab, and the sound of wheels began to replace the noise. The jaguar was quietly placed onto its designated bed, fixed with all of its sensors and needles, and left there as the process began with another specimen.

“Inserting control chip for B-45…”

Red lights began to flash and sirens began to screech through the halls of the facility. This was soon followed by gun fire and minor explosions. Screams could be heard in the distance as the sounds of battle continued for several minutes. The Sirens and lights soon came to an end as the workers waited for an announcement.

“R-52 Neutralized… Termination to commence.” The voice over the speaker system announced.

On the lowest level of the facility R-52 was taken to a room where it was strapped to a steel bed and steel cuffs were welded to the bed so the creature could not escape from its termination. A tall man wearing the usual scientist clothing entered the room. His face was horribly burnt on the left side. He walked over to the hybrid that lay on the table.

“Why is it always the Wolf and the Bear Hybrids we always have to put down?”

“I believe it is the natural predatory instinct and the pure power of these animals Dr. Alexander.” The man adjusting the last strap announced.

“When exactly did you become a scientist?” Dr. Thomas Alexander retorted at the security officer.

The officer hung his head slightly and pulled the strap tight and buckled it in place. He turned away from the table and headed out of the room. Dr. Alexander pulled the vial from his jacket pocket and placed the needle deep into the end of it. He tipped the vial up and pulled the syringe back drawing the fluid through the needle. Small bubbles rolled up the side of the vial until there was no longer any liquid left. Dr. Alexander put the vial down on the tray then inserted the needle into the Hybrids arm. The fluid entered the arm as he pushed the syringe forward. A low guttural growl escaped the Hybrids lips as every muscle tensed up. The Body began to shake and the creature fought to escape the bondage that he was in. A loud roar echoed through the room and then the Hybrid fell limp on the table. Two men rolled the table out of the room as Dr. Alexander and another Dr. stood watching.

“It is a terrible waste. Let’s try mixing the Wolf and the Bear together with a human specimen.” Alexander never looked at the other doctor as he gave the order

“Yes sir, we have a new human specimen from the asylum above.”

“Very well he shall be Z-01 Hybrid mix Wolf and Bear.”

“We shall get him prepared right away.”

“If there are any other problems I will be in my office.”

“Yes sir.”

The doctor left the room and headed down a long corridor where Eric had been placed after his outburst. He had been stripped of his clothing and all his hair had been shaved off. He was struggling to get free of the straps that held him to the table. The doctor walked over to the table and gave Eric a sedative. After Eric had become relaxed, but still very conscious, the doctor began to insert tubes and I.V’s into him. Once this was done a thick fluid began to flow through one of the tubes that entered his mouth. Shortly after Eric lost consciousness. Eric was then placed into a tube and the tube filled with a green fluid. The Cylinder was then placed on a transporting device and the cylinder shot up through a tube and soon settled on one of the upper levels of the facility.

“Inserting the Wolf and Bear Mixture into specimen Z-01” A monotone voice alerted.

“Vital signs stable.” The Voice again announced.

There was not much conversation on the working levels of the facility. However in the cafeteria and the employee living quarters there was always conversations. The Cafeteria was a buzz as usual when Silas entered the line. He was the head of security a rather young man who had only become apart of the Arcane revolution because his family was killed after being accused of being associated to the Arcane Revolution. He had no love for the governing powers of society and he knew as well as everyone else that these new Hybrids would be mistaken for Were Beasts and the governing powers would soon forget about the Arcane Revolution and would focus their efforts on eliminating the newest threat. He grabbed his tray from the counter and took it to a table where there were other security members. He sat down with them only nodding to the others.

“Silas, when am I going to get some of that above ground patrol?”

“When you can handle the work you have below ground Dave.”

“Oh that was cold, I work twice as hard as any of these other clowns.”

“Work smarter not harder Dave. Isn’t that what I told you when you joined the team?”

“Yeah it is what you said. So what do you think of this newest Hybrid they are making?”

“What does it matter what I think?”

“Well I was just curious what your opinion was on it.”

“We are not paid to think, we are paid to do as we are told.”

“Still you must have an opinion.”

“Yeah I do, one no one wants to hear.”

“Silas, I want to hear it or I would not have asked.”

“Well Dave, it’s like this you can not take the animal instincts and just suppress them. The Wolf and the Bear have not been a success controlling on their own, so Dr. Alexander decides to place them together hoping that one will suppress the other. In my opinion I have a doubt that this will work instead it will only increase the animal instinct in the Hybrid. Sure they have managed to control the feline species. But I have to wonder how long that will last after all the Feline is a tamer beast then the K-9 or the Bear. Yet a tiger can be as viscous a monster as any animal if the time arises that they should need to be. I believe the Feline species has a plan of their own and is waiting for its numbers to9 be large enough to escape from this prison we hold them in.”

“Damn and you’re not working next to Dr. Alexander for what reason?”

“Politics, that’s all it is, politics.”

The Security team continued their meal without another word being said. One by one they each finished their meal and headed back to their assignments leaving Silas sitting at the table by himself. He was nearly finished when Dr. Thomas Alexander sat in front of him.

“You know Silas you could be right but you will need to learn your place or you will become one of the Hybrids yourself.”

“Well Dr. if it comes down to that do me a favor and make sure you mix me with your new Hybrid so when I come for you I will have the cunning, speed, and strength to get to you before the rest of the security team is able to stop me.”

“Silas I know your parents were not part of the Arcane Revolution and that they were killed and that is the reason you are here. Just follow and learn and soon you will be as important as myself to this cause. After all you have the spirit and the drive to be a great leader in this operation.”

“I am glad you think so sir but that is not going to stop me from thinking for myself.”

“No ones said you had to just keep it to yourself unless asked directly.”

“Yes SIR!”

With that Silas got up from the table and dumped what was left of his meal into the trash receptacle. He returned to his quarters and lay down on the bed with a murderous thought on his mind and hate in his heart.