March 3, 2082– It’s been 5 months since I sent a detailed list of my co-workers infractions to the corporate office. Their unprofessional attitude and lack of drive continue despite my best efforts. They routinely verbally abuse me and deride my continued dedication to our work. They continue to operate the lounge they created and are more interested in drinking the foul liquor produced from their still. I worry that the main office is swamped with problems from other facilities and don’t fully appreciate how bad the work environment here has become. At least the remaining maintenance crew still make a half-hearted effort to keep the place clean before leaving for the day to collect coconuts.
March 4, 2082– Everyone has their own way of passing time here. I prefer to immerse myself in my work, while my co-workers drink themselves into oblivion and devise new ways to torment me. The facilities staff on the other hand go on extended coconut hunts. They spend at least 8 hours a day putting coconuts in their maintenance bags. While I appreciate the contribution to the food stores, their trips have become quite wide ranging. I’ve expressed concerns about their safety but Reynolds has assured me it’s good for their morale. Whoever collects the biggest coconut gets the day off. Perhaps my co-workers would be more motivated if I could turn their work into a contest.
March 6, 2082– The maintenance guys had a big surprise for me today. They were finally able to open the security doors to the rear labs. A combination of fried electronics and rubble have kept us from accessing these areas since the fracture. I ask them not to mention it to anyone else. If the labs are operational I might finally have a sanctuary free from distractions. The crew begins to go through systems and make a list of what needs repair. Reynolds pitches in as well even though it’s his day off. For the first time in quite a while I feel good about my future here.
March 11, 2082– It took me a while to figure out what had infected the crew, and my findings are startling. They were exposed to a cloud of brownish particulates with a strong smell when restarting the biofilters in one of the newly available labs. It appears someone had put a large piece of SSHAM where the filter cartridge is supposed to go. Although I am still unsure of how exactly it happened, it appears that a virulent strain of bacteria had been growing inside the canned meat filter for the past 30 years unabated. The extent to which the radiation produced by the fracture shaped the bacteria’s growth is anyone’s guess. The effects on the crew were rapid and resembled some of the same physical changes that were common in others a few months after the fracture. I decided it was best to keep them locked in the contaminated room.
March 28, 2082– It’s been over two weeks since I locked the facilities crew in their lab. Their physical and mental changes continue. Their teeth have become much more robust and their arms and legs have grown. They have taken a hunched over posture and have a shuffling gait. They are no longer capable of complex communication, resorting to occasional grunts and hand gestures. My co-workers are oblivious and completely focused on their diversions, allowing me time to study the crew’s transformation.
March 30, 2082– There have been no further physical changes in the crew. It appears that some rudimentary memories remain in the subjects. If provided with their collection bags and coconuts, they will fight over the largest with the winner going to sleep in a corner while the rest shuffle around the room. They will pantomime certain everyday grooming activities when provided tools ie. brushing teeth, combing hair. They can be made to follow simple commands if I reward them with meat. I wonder if their cognitive functions will continue to erode?
March 31, 2082– My co-workers have crossed a serious line today. Still ignorant of the fate of the facilities crew and my studies, they raided my office again. They claim that they thought I had left since they “hadn’t heard me complain in a few days”. They spilled some sort of liquid over much of my equipment, ruining it. They took my furniture to replace the disgusting lounge furnishings. However, it was the stealing of my ration of coffee for use in their quest to make coffee moonshine that is the last straw. I realize now that I would be better off without them.
April 7, 2082– Even though their training had only lasted a week I believed the subjects were ready. I had been showing them my co-workers badges, saying “coconuts” loudly and rewarding them with meat once they reached an appropriate level of excitement. I will admit that I was still unsure what they would do once I gave them their bags and let them loose. They exceeded all my expectations. From the safety of the control room, I unlocked the doors and said, “coconuts” over the intercom. I watched them put the bags over their shoulders and shuffle down the hall to the stairs leading to the upper levels. The cameras no longer work in that area of the building, so I could only hear the conflict upstairs. Even though the attack was quite loud with ample screaming, it was over much more quickly than I imagined, no doubt due to my co-workers intoxication. All but one of the subjects returned to their room soon after with their gory trophies. By the way Reynolds curled up in the corner, it appears Dr. Reemer had the biggest head. I will have to measure for myself once the subjects have been sedated. The trail leading from the stairs to their room is quite distinct, so the upper levels must be a mess. I wonder if I can train them to mop up blood?
