Hour 21
What an exhausting day. The start seems like it was weeks ago.
I was up before the sun in hopes of being properly prepared for the reanimation of the subject. When the reanimation started, I was already on top of it. Collecting the subject out of his cell for initial daily inspection. SUCCESS! The subject was not yet moist or soiled with any nocturnal excretions. I removed all bonding and delivered him to the waste disposal unit for any excretions that might be waiting on full consciousness to release. Once again, I was met with success. Elimination of fluids occurred within minutes. Celebration ensued.
Morning nourishment proved to the subject and retuned him to the disposal unit and again was met with instantaneous results.
I contained the subject into his carriage, and we escorted Churchill around the perimeter for our morning rotation when a communication came through from the woman who raised me after I had been abandoned on the steps of the parish at the corner of her Argo. She is a sweet woman who has gone a bit senile in her aged state, but a loving soul none-the-less she was actually look for a man named Scott. I told her that I was unaware of the gentleman for whom she was inquiring and left it at that. The sweep was unremarkable with the exception of the intolerable heat and the unusual stillness of everything. We encountered not one moving being on the entire circle.
Upon return to the compound, beverages were dispensed to each of use to our own liking, Bovine mammary extract for the subject, caffeinated nut cream for me, and for Churchill, water.
Learning from the lessons that I had on day 1, I was keeping the subject under constant visual surveillance. At one point I left him for mere moments to fetch myself a nibble to eat, and I found him eliminating on the hide covered furnishing in the library. I sealed off the living and entertaining quarters of the facilities to make sure that the subject would no long have such a selection of places to hide from me.
I entertained him as much as was possible with the tools that were available and kept him contained to the disposal unit, even placing him upon it, on regulated intervals with excretions.
Midday was approaching so I need to provide nourishment for the subject. I entered the galley and opened the coolant box to retrieve a container grain bases morsels to mix with pureed vegetables, a favorite of the subject. “Apparently” when I close the door on the coolant box, I awoke the sleeping Churchill, who in his half awaked state thought there was an intruder at the front gate. He went flying past me, alarms sounding, followed by a loud crashing sound. I gave chase only to find the pathetic Churchill struggling to gain his balance and limping off towards the front, after smashing through the barrier I constructed to contain the subject within the working wing of the facility.
In the mist of the distraction the subject had managed to elude my attention long enough to find a new corning by the supply closet in order to relieve himself once again without using the newly purposed protocols of using the disposal unit. What had started out as such a victorious day was in peril of slipping into defeat.
I did what I could to clean up the mess and provide the subject with some nourishment.
I consulted via the audio comm with the wise doctor, who informed me of her return tomorrow, suggested a period of N.A.P. for the subject and resume protocols with providing a thin layer of cotton over the areas of excretion once the subject reanimated. With this guidance in placed the subject securely into his cell.
The facility was a complete disaster. Refuse has been piling up for days. I was unclean and the galley sink was overflowing with containers one food preparation equipment. Churchill, seemingly un-embarrassed by his own incompetence, limped back and forth through the facility and I was absolutely exhausted.
At that moment I recalled a lesson that I had learned from Sage of the North, St. Frances. “You can never have a clear mind when you have a sink full of filth”, or something like that. So, I started in the galley cleaning and scrubbing. I cleaned out the refuse bin and changed the linens. I followed that with a nice long shower. I was feeling so much better already.
I was almost done clearing the debris for the destroyed barricade that Churchill had so gracefully dismantled, when I heard the subject reanimating. When I went in to retrieve him, he was visibly upset and hold his small bovine idol up towards the opening of his cell. The subject seemed to have had a liquid containment failure and excreted on what can only be assumed as a religious comfort. I don’t know if this was accidental or intentional, but it was clear at this point that the young biped was not pleased with the circumstances he now found himself in.
I removed the subject, separating him from the bovine idol, which in reality appears to be a simple piece of cloth with a head sown on it with apparent supernatural powers at all, placed the subject onto the disposal unit and quietly placed his idol to be laundered. More excretion flowed from the subject. (On a side note, I am not sure that this creature expels twice the liquid that it ingests.) I placed the thin cotton on the subject and started scheduled timed trips back to the disposal unit at the top and bottom of every hour. This seemed to do little good. Two trips to the disposal with no results followed five minutes later with a cotton soaked with excretion subject nowhere near the disposal unit.
I am beginning to think that the research documents that I read on a three-day operation, that this experiment was based on, was using a different species or maybe one of greater mental development.
That is, after all, what this is all about. Finding the best practices by way of research and documentation. I am not sure that this subject will meet the minimum requirements to call this trail a success after 3 days. He may simply still be too underdeveloped.
Just as this thought was going through my mind the subject came running in from around the corning making a B-line for the disposal unit. Interesting. I followed him into the room and helped him onto the unit. He discharged fluid. Very interesting. Celebrations and congratulations were given.
Churchill and I with the subject in tow when out for the evening security scan and found it very interesting that there was a large amount of government emergency vehicles out, moving very deliberately with all of their visual alarms blazing, but no audio alarms. They passed us without saying anything. I’m not sure why I am even mentioning it, except to say that I found it very peculiar.
Once we returned to the facility, I continued the new protocols with the subject with nothing of note for the first 45 minutes.
As I was preparing the evening nourishment. The subject once again came running in, this time frantic and holding his hands down the back of cotton coverings. I secured him quickly and placed him on the disposal unit. I had noticed earlier that the subject had not had any solid excretions since the prior day. I was hoping that the new protocols had cured him of this ailment, but this display by him revealed that he was experiencing something terrifying. He demanded to be entertained with the reading a book on anatomy and concentrated with such focus that I had never seen from him before. After the third reading I decided to consult the brilliant doctor for further guidance.
I activated the Holcom so that she could instruct both the subject and me. The instant her radiant being materialized in front of the two of us, something very strange happened. The subject became completely unhinged. Throwing himself towards the projection in an attempt to embrace the wise doctor. I had always known that they shared a strong bond due to their initial relationship of host and parasite, but I was taken by just how strong it was. It was a complete disaster. The subject lost all sense of decorum and wailed so loudly that the audio portion of the transmission could not be heard. I receive no insight to achieving operational goals and the subject was now completely out of control.
I terminated the transmission and tried consoling the subject by way of food. This did not seem to help. The subject seems to have instituted a hunger strike at my taunting him with the image of his ex-host.
I cleaned him and bonded him and placed him in his cell for his extended nocturnal Non-Animation Period. There was no solid excretion for the day. There may be one in the middle of the night who knows…. One thing is for sure. I am no doctor, and I am very much anticipating her return in the evening of tomorrow.
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