[Fiction] The Facility: a getDare Sci-Fi

[kmacroxs]

This.is.so.awesome.please.continue

[Silvercola]

That is a interesting update will say unique

[pm90]

The Red Rover Project
Chapter 17: Daytime, Part 4



“Four, Five… Six,” James exhaled and handed the dumbbells off to Dmitri, sitting on the next bench over.

“James,” Dmitri said, getting into position, “Have… have you felt the same recently?” He pressed the dumbbells together and lifted them over his head.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… Two, you know, Three, since, Four… Five… Six.” He rested the dumbbells on his thighs. “Since that night?”

James thought for a moment. He knew exactly what Dmitri was talking about. Life seemed a little… different. Dmitri started another set. “I guess I’m still not sure what you mean,” James lied.

Dmitri counted out his set and handed the dumbbells back to James.

“I guess I’ve just been a little more anxious recently,” Dmitri mused. “I can’t stop thinking about it, either. It’s strange, but I desperately want to do something like that again. It’s like … like an itch, I guess. I have this unconscious need to do something, a need that isn’t usually there. But once I figure out what it is, I can’t ignore it, and it drives me crazy.”

“I think that’s referred to as your ‘Sex Drive,’” James laughed. “But I know what you mean. I’ve been having the same problem. … I don’t think I was paying very close attention to Facilitator Jackson during any of our lessons today.”

“Me neither!” Dmitri whisper-shouted. “I think I had an erection the entire time, too!”

James laughed. He could relate. He started another set.

“You’ve been going out at night, haven’t you?” Dmitri asked quietly after a few more sets.

James didn’t say anything.

“I heard you come back last night.”

“Hannah came and woke me up,” James said. “… And then we found three kids awake in group 15B. They insisted that we show them the water tank, so we did.”

Dmitri looked dumbfounded. “You showed another group? 15B?! You know they’re not gonna keep it a secret, right?!?”

“…It wasn’t my choice, really…” James muttered. “It was Taylor’s stupid idea.” He bit his lip. He probably shouldn’t have mentioned that.

“…Taylor was with you guys?”

“Yeah,” James sighed. “She kind of snuck up on us, actually.”

“Oh…” He looked a little downcast. James didn’t really know what to say. He put the weights back on the rack, and they hopped onto a pair of treadmills next to each other, bumping the speed up to a brisk walk.

“Wake me up, next time,” Dmitri said after a bit.

“Yeah, okay,” James agreed. They bumped the speed up to a jog, and James continued to think about that … itch. To do more, to experience more. To experience that which was new and different and exciting.


… … … … … … …


“Jeffrey. Welcome back. How’d it go?”

“Well, Mr. Finch. It went well. Your friend in Protective Services has five kids to get rid of, and between them and the ten foster kids we already have lined up, we have a good crop already. I also checked in at the manufacturing plant. The foreman tells me that they fixed the air filter and can resume production late this evening.”

“You were persuasive, I take it?”

“They won’t be taking a lunch break, sir. I don’t think the foreman likes me too well, though. I also dropped by the bank to authorize the paychecks from your private account.”

“Is that young clerk still trying to get in your pants?”

“Yes sir, very much so. The way she looked at me today, you’d have thought she’s expecting me to whip out twelve thick inches or something.”

“Hah! Poor girl can only imagine. Perhaps you can invite her to dinner one of these days.”

“I doubt that would be wise.”

“Well I certainly didn’t suggest it because it would be wise, did I? Anyway, what else?”

“The maintenance tech at the Facility left a message – They got the dishwasher fixed again. He thinks it’s time to replace it, though, and I tend to agree. He also mentioned that apparently there’s been some problems with the water reclamation process, but he assured me that he’d have it figured out soon. Oh, and I picked up the groceries. And I grabbed lunch as well.”

“Lunch? Excellent. What’d you get?”

“A spinach salad with peanut sauce, a couple sushi rolls, and mango rice pudding, sir.”

“Jeffrey, you’re amazing. Thank you. Let’s eat right away.”

“I’ll set the table, sir.”

“Oh, by the way, how’s your ass?” Finch asked, standing up in his sweatpants, and grabbing his cold, half-empty coffee cup. They’d played pretty rough last night.

“Still hurts, sir,” Jeffrey grinned over his shoulder.


… … … … … … …


James was barely inside the door to their suite before he stripped his shirt over his head and threw it at the hopper in the corner, where sweaty clothing was falling from all directions. None of the groupmates ever placed anything in the hopper. Everything was thrown from a distance.

Halfway across the lounge, James stepped out of his pants and tossed them, too. He slid his underwear to the ground and flicked his ankle, flinging the garment into the corner as well. He grabbed a shower and soaped up.

It had been a tough workout. He would be sore tomorrow, he knew. He ended his shower with a quick blast of cold water to stifle the sweat. They toweled off, and tossed the towels in the corner with the sweaty clothing. They grabbed clean boxers, pants, and t-shirts from stacks just inside the bunk room door, and passed around sticks of deodorant.


… … … … … … …


“This could be the end of the Red Rover Project,” Finch mused, over a piece of sushi with a thick layer of green paste spread on top.

“Or it could just be the beginning,” Jeffrey said. “I mean, what have we really learned up until now?”

“That’s true,” Finch agreed, around the spicy mouthful of rice and raw fish. “Mmm… *gulp* We didn’t really learn much. I guess we can’t truly see their … true human nature. Not when we restrict them so much.”

“Regardless,” Jeffrey concluded, “you’re right. It will be impossible to maintain the same standard procedure now.”

Finch took a large swig of warm vanilla sake. “So… do we let the Project evolve? The Facilitators won’t have a clue what to do, in that case. Things could end up spiraling out of control. But we could get a really good look at how individuals grow and social interactions evolve without outside influence, like we haven’t been able to see yet. Or do we scrap the Project and start over in a less structured way?”

“I’m fascinated by what’s happening,” Jeffrey replied. They were looking at the personal files of each of the subjects who had escaped from their rooms during the night. “And we can always change our minds later and scrap it all. But I want to see how this plays out. I mean, look at his hormone levels,” He pointed to Dmitri’s chart analysis, “Testosterone especially. I mean… it seems like such a simple change. But to have such an impact that it measurably changes his hormones? Imagine how that’s effecting his thoughts and emotions.”

“It interesting, though,” Finch said, preparing another piece of sushi by spreading the wasabi on like butter and piling the ginger on top. “James and Hannah have displayed the most drastic changes in behavior, out of them all, but their medical scans this afternoon don’t reflect that at all. James, yes his testosterone jumped a little, but not outside the standard deviation from one scan to the next. If anything it was his dopamine levels that raised most. And Hannah, same thing. A little more dopamine, but nothing else terribly significant. Whereas Taylor there’s estradiol levels have… almost doubled.”

“I don’t think that’s surprising, though,” Jeffrey said. “Psychologically, everybody is going to react differently to a change in their lives, and how they react mentally with be reflected in their hormone levels.”

“You know, I should have seen this coming,” Finch mused. “Of all the children who would find a flaw in the Facility’s design, James would be the one.”

Jeffrey frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean, sir.”

“Oh, don’t you remember him?” Finch asked. “No? Well I chose him carefully. He was a foster kid. Sort of. He kept running away from his foster families, though, and ended up living on the streets most of the time. Preferred it that way, I think.

“He got picked up by the cops a few times. The last time they found him upside down, trapped in an air vent in an electronics store. He was lacerated in several places, and all bruised up, but when they got him out, he stubbornly wouldn’t say why he was there. The officers thought he was probably being paid to break in – to open the doors from the inside so burglars could raid the place.”

“They thought he was a snakesman? I thought snakesmen fell out of fashion centuries ago!”

“They did. But it seems to fit. Why else would he be in the air vent of an electronics store? There are much warmer, comfier, and more easily accessed places for a homeless boy to sleep.”

“I suppose so.”

“But when they tried sending him back in to foster care, my system flagged him, and I took a look at his file. After an interview with him his most recent foster family, I decided Red Rover could offer him much more than the outside world would be able to. I couldn’t risk losing him waiting, though, so you remember I had to bring him home, and immediately wipe his memory so he wouldn’t run away immediately.”

“Hmm… Yes, I might remember him.” It wasn’t common for Finch to bring the children home; logistically, it was best if they stayed outside the Project until they could all be brought together on the same day. Every year, however, it seemed like two or three of the kids needed to stay with them for a week or two here or there while other arrangements were made. James had stayed a little longer than most, living quietly in the guest house and performing basic household chores, and taking care of the grounds. “He’s grown up quite a bit since then.”

“Well yes, of course,” Finch chuckled, spinning the photorealistic rendering of James’ full-body medical scan around on the viewscreen. “You don’t remember him with pubic hair, I expect.”

“You said it, not me, sir.”


… … … … … … …


The dishes were scraped, and loaded in the rickety old washing machine. The counters were being scrubbed, the floors mopped, the tables wiped, and the cooking pots and serving trays were done being scoured and were being rinsed and dried.

When everything was just as clean and sparkly as ever, Facilitator Ed and two other Facilitators reentered the kitchen/dining hall, and escorted the three groups back to their respective rooms. The boys in James’ group were unanimously tired, and conversation was quiet as toothbrushes were passed out from the supply cart, and the toothpaste handed around. They took turns spitting into the sinks and rinsing their toothbrushes, and spent brushes were deposited in the waiting peroxide bucket.

Clothing was shed and thrown in the traditional fashion towards the hamper in the corner, and about half the boys chose to grab one or more sleeping garments from the cart before they all climbed in to bed. James fell asleep quickly, before the raucous snoring began.

[pm90]

I'm so sorry for the massive delay, guys. It was a long semester for me. I know it's a couple days late, but Merry Christmas.

I promised you I wouldn't abandon you, and that promise holds true. But you'll have to trust that even if I've been silent for months, I'll still come back eventually.

I love you all, and I hope you enjoy the update! I'm working on chapter 18 now, and it should definitely be a good one!

Clear Skies,
~pm

[kmacroxs]

FINALLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I thought you'd abandoned this because it was left for so long.

[daremaster 1]

I never forgot this story, but I thought you left it.

Anyways, great chapter!

[Doctor Octogonapus]

Awesome chapter, Happy New Year, and dont worry. Nobody forgot about your story either. WAY to cool for that to happen.

[1101]

I'm so glad this story wasn't abandoned!

[pm90]

The Red Rover Project
Chapter 18: Changing It Up a Bit, Part 1


Earl settled in to his chair and sipped his coffee as the facility was falling to sleep. He entered his assigned username and thoroughly complex password to log in to the security system.

The array of mobbing images materialized on the screen, and everything was bedtime as usual.

The viewscreen grayed out, however, and a message popped up.


… … … … … … …


Rita nearly jumped out of her skin when her viewscreen changed in a way that it never had before. At first she was afraid something was broken, then the message popped up, and she read through it carefully three times.


… … … … … … …


Paco Alvarez,

The Red Rover Project, of which you’ve been an employee for several years, will be experiencing some changes in the coming days.

As a result, your current position at Finch Industries will be terminated after your current shift ends. Please note that your service has been appreciated and you’re not being “fired.” You are invited to apply for any other current employment openings that the company has for which you are qualified, and a an employee in good standing your application will be given special consideration, and you will be guaranteed an initial interview.

Should you seek employment elsewhere, please remember that your official job title is “Advances Security Systems Technician and Analyst,” and that your duties included “Secure research monitoring, Security risk analysis, System problem identification and resolution, and Data synthesis management,” and a personalized letter of recommendation from Company Director, Mr. Tobias Finch can be provided upon request.

Please also remember that the terms of your Nondisclosure Agreement state that you are forbidden from discussion via any means of communication, verbal, print, electronic, or otherwise, the specific details of the Project in any way, or even its existence, except as provided for in the description of your official job description, and that in signing the agreement you authorized the Company to take any actions it deems necessary to maintain your agreement of nondisclosure, without limitation. This agreement is binding even in death, and can be terminated by no means.

We hope you enjoy your final shift, and don’t forget to collect any personal belongings before you leave, as your access to the work station will expire within the next 12 hours.

Best of Luck,
Jeffrey Bridges,
Personal Assistant to the Director

P.S.: An altered version of this letter will arrive in your personal email shortly, to keep for your records.


… … … … … … …


“Well fuck,” Earl breathed.

He was now looking at a much larger viewscreen, with added views that he hadn’t seen before. A dozen new security focal points had materialized, and he was looking at live feeds of eleven other people, sitting at security monitoring stations exactly like his own. The twelfth feed was a live view of himself.

The letter that had presented itself to him was unusual and astounding. It told him that nine other Monitors such as himself were being terminated, and that he would becore a member of a group of three who would remain on staff with an altered directive. Together, they would monitor the changes occurring in the project, and catalog them. They would be expected to me consistent and thorough in the cataloging process, and would only engage the Emergency Alert system in they anticipated or witnessed a problem that would cause “significant physical harm to any of the subjects,” or had potential to “compromise the secrecy with which the project is conducted.”

“Well… Fuck,” he said again. He hadn’t been the only one. And he took another sip of coffee.


… … … … … … …


James sat up in bed, careful not to hit his head on the ceiling. He hadn’t been able to sleep well in several days. With a sigh of resignation, he threw off the sheets and climbed out of bed, wearing only his pajama bottoms, having foregone the t-shirt and underwear that night.

The familiar bathroom was quieter, but he could still hear the boys snoring. Alas, it couldn’t be helped. He stepped up to one of the floor-length urinals and pulled down the front of his pajamas. Sliding back his foreskins and relaxing the muscles in his lower abdomen, he felt the immediate mild relief and warm glow as his bladder emptied its contents into the porcelain. He squeezed the last few drops out, and pulled his foreskin back in to place, and returned the waistband of his bottoms back to his waist.


… … … … … … …


“Wait, this is where you live?” Jesse asked. “This place is huge!”

“Mr. Finch likes having room to spread out,” Jeffrey explained.

“It’ll be cool to meet him. I’m glad you guys invited me to dinner. So you’re like his assistant or something?”

“Something like that, yes.” Jeffrey smiled wryly as they pulled up the long drive and into the detached garage. “My official title is Personal Assistant, but I’m often more than just an assistant. Now I should tell you up front that part of my job includes thoroughly ensuring his safety and security.”

“Oh, so you’re gonna have to pat me down, then?” Jesse grinned. “You can frisk me as thoroughly as you want, you know.”

“Well there’s a little more to it than just that,” Jeffrey smiled at the kid, cutting the engine, “but I’m glad you’re compliant. I wouldn’t want to have to take you back home so soon, you’d miss a fantastic dinner, and I know you’re excited to meet him.”

“And I wanna get to know you better, too,” Jesse added conspicuously as they both climbed out of the car in the spacious and immaculate garage.

Jeffrey’s thumbprint opened the door into the house, and the young Associate Manager followed him inside.


… … … … … … …


James stepped out into the orange light of the mechanical floor. It was starting to look pretty familiar, and the noise was comforting in a way. Plus, he figured, if I can’t sleep, at least Hannah can suffer with me. She seems to enjoy it, though.

He’d already taken the two steps over to the next hole, where Hannah and the girls slept, and he was about to climb down when he heard whispering nearby, and stopped dead.


… … … … … … …


I can’t believe this. This gorgeous man … and the founder of the Finch Industries empire, both inviting me to dinner with them. Gods, and he can cook, too! Jesse thought to himself, as Jeffrey delivered three steaming plates of very gourmet-looking food.

“Jeffrey,” he said, “This looks magnificent!”

“Filet Mignon marinated and wrapped in bacon with a cognac cream sauce, served with honey wheat jalapeño dinner rolls, and an onion, carrot, bell pepper and sweet potato hash.”

“He’s always an excellent cook,” Mr. Finch told the boy, as Jeffrey poured the wine, “But he puts extra effort in when we have guests. Jeffrey, I agree, dinner looks amazing.”

“Thank you, I hope you’ll enjoy it,” The man smiled, filling Jesse’s glass. Jesse almost stopped him – he’d only had his 20th birthday a few weeks ago, and didn’t normally drink anyway. But instead he accepted the wine, not wanting to make it awkward and remind them of his age.

They’d chosen to eat at the small round table in the kitchen, where they could converse more comfortably than at the long dining table in the next room. The table was still lavishly set in rich, layered table clothes and dinner ware of such elegance that Jesse almost felt intimidated. But Mr. Finch and Jeffrey picked up their utensils without pretense, and began slicing their meat, so he followed suit.

“So Jeffrey tells me you’re an Associate Manager. I don’t usually think of bankers as being so… happy and youthful. I imagine them either as cranky old men or middle aged brown-noser salesmen, of which you seem to be neither. So what’s the story, then? How’d you become a banker?”

“Mmm,” Jesse grunted passionately around a delectable bite of juicy red meat. He swallowed, and continued. “My dad’s a branch manager for a credit union in the suburbs. Brown-noser salesman. So I started working as a teller when I was sixteen. Easy first job. As soon as I turned eighteen, though, I moved out, into an apartment in the city, and became a teller at the bank down the block. After about six months they promoted me to Personal Banker, gave me a desk, and had me setting up checking accounts for people. I was quite good at it, actually, and when one of the other Assistant Managers transferred to a different location, they promoted me again, passing over a couple others with more experience.”

“Well that’s quite an accomplishment, congratulations,” the Director said, and Jesse felt the man’s stocking feet find his own under the table. He made no move to break the contact. “Do you live on your own now?”

“Yes, I never had roommates actually, since I was so ready to leave the house and be alone. But I have been able to move into a nicer apartment, and I adopted a cat. It’s actually a pretty good setup.” He took another bite of the tenderloin steak, and moaned again. “Jeffrey, this is even better than it looks.” He washed it down with a sip of wine, which was surprisingly tasty. Mr. Finch’s foot creeped up the inside of his pant leg. So that really is what this is about...

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” Jeffrey smiled, patting and squeezing the boy’s knee in thanks under the table. He kept his hand there. “Don’t eat too much though; I made dessert, too.”





Faithful followers, I present the first installment of chapter 18. As you can see, things are about to change. I've got my ideas and plans, but I want to hear yours too! Shoot me a PM all about it.

Stay sexy, my beasts!
~pm

[kmacroxs]

Is Mr. Finch gay??
Also, why were Earl and the others "terminated?"

[Madame_paradox]

It's pretty obvious that Finch definitely likes males......

Interesting turn of events. One of the fired people has copied videos of footage....
I wonder how that plays into things. I think those guards got fired because of their naughty behavior, but thats a pure guess.

[pymani96]

THIS STORY IS JUST SO FUCKING AMAZING!!!!! After being away from getdare for some time, I just caught up with the last 13 and a bit chapters, and I can thoroughly say that I LOVE IT! Please, despite the fact you haven't been online for over a month now, and the story is changing tact, continue. If you dont, then I wil be forced to commit suicide, live on blogtv. Now, go forth, be strong, and keep the writing superb.
Returning follower, Pymani

[Doctor Octogonapus]

This story needs a 1-Up or something, cause somewhere it seems to have died despite its total awesomeness. Any chance of resurrecting the story oh mighty Author?

[pymani96]

Originally Posted by Doctor Octogonapus

This story needs a 1-Up or something, cause somewhere it seems to have died despite its total awesomeness. Any chance of resurrecting the story oh mighty Author?

You, are so right.
Pymani

[slutjuice]

I hope this story will be continued?
It has a great idea and foundation.
I love all the new things that come up to keep it interesting- Thanks!!!