"Come on, you dick!"
Finally, with much pulling and huffing, the blade slid through the flesh, the loose piece falling into the bucket with a wet thud. Even though he had the muscles of an ox, Ozz waited a second to catch his breath. This latest delivery of horse was very sinewy.
Ozz was a distinctive man, even among Foundation employees. A shaved head and a heavy face, much of his body sported interesting scars and burns, with the most distinctive being a curved black one on his back. He stank, too. And even after numerous baths and showers, it never shifted. It merely accumulated, producing a stench with strong tones of wet dog, earth, straw and damp towels. Those at 44 believed this was due to some anomalous curse he'd gained in childhood or something equally mysterious. In truth, he just stank.
His breath returning, Ozz picked up the barrel of horse meat and lumbered it onto the cart. At least the most tiring part of the job was over. Giving his hands a quick wash, he climbed up onto the small tractor. With a turn of the key and loud, smoky rat-a-tat-tat, the old machine roared into life.
As he buckled up, one of the containment specialists rushed up and handed Ozz a clipboard of charts. "Ozzy. Ozzy!"
"Mornin' Jacko. Got today's schedule."
"Emma and Jared say there's been a problem with the power in Sector 4. Something about issues in the foundation. You'll have to start at the west side today."
Ozz flipped through the pages, nodding occasionally. "How's our Irish guest?"
"Recovering. The operation went well, apparently. It'll need some meloxicam for the next fortnight."
"I'll check on him later. Can't be too careful." Handing the charts back, he expected Jacko to nod and walk away. But he didn't. He stood there awkwardly, appearing to be preparing to say something. "What is it?" Ozz asked, eager to be off.
"Does Carter know you're doing this? The feeding and stuff?"
Ozz snorted and licked his teeth, his lips and clef bunging as he did so. "You going to tell him?" Jacko shook his head. "Good. Was there anything else?" Jacko said nothing, signed the papers and walked away. "OK, Rusty, let's get rolling." And pulling the stiff gear-stick, Ozz manoeuvred the tractor and its unusual meals-on-wheels out into the courtyard.
"Come on, Nemo! Come on! Daddy's got some goodies for you!"
It was nearly 9 and he'd only done a third of the feeding. Not willing to wait any longer, Ozz tapped the canister loudly, scanning the surface of the pond.
"Nemo, if you don't come out, I'll have to give this to the other - Ahh, good boy!"
From beneath the water, a cuddly, wet, reptilian face peered out and made a low grunt. Nemo was only a few months old and had developed a bit of an attitude. Though this was common in 3934 instances, he was especially bratty, preferring to snack on the fine lunches of emotionally vulnerable agents and researchers that visited his pond during lunch hours rather than common fish and seaweed. As his neck and back hump rose out, he glanced down at the barrel. He huffed a breath of pond water in distaste.
"Come on, Nemo. It's the good stuff. The finest fish from all of Southend-on-Sea. Bass and Black Beam and - No! No, you can't have that! No!" Nemo, unimpressed with the 'finest fish', was now nuzzling Ozz's backpack. "You are not having that!" Nemo continued to nuzzle, even as Ozz tried to tug his neck back to the barrel. Finally, seeing the aquatic brat wasn't going to submit, Ozz unzipped the bag and revealed three sandwiches of soggy chips soaked in vinegar.
"Right," he said, holding up a handful of the chips, "You can have this, but you'd better start on this straight after." Nemo, his eyes focused on the chips, snorted another spray of water into Ozz's face. Taking this as a yes, Ozz placed the chips on top of the fish and seaweed and pointed at it. In an instant, the fussy eater began munching away at the barrel's contents. "They really should put a 'no feeding' sign around here. They're spoiling you."
"Morning, Karen!"
From within the centre of the aviary, the researcher replied in a melancholy tone, "Hello." Picking up the container of seeds and water, Ozz moved cautiously down the spherical walls. Another one had died.
Aviary #4 was not like the other aviaries, though that wasn't saying much given how unique all of them were. What made #4 unique was the strange way its residents were fed. At the flick of a switch, all the perches would fold away, and the floor would fold downward into a bowl shape, forcing the birds to cease their dedicated scribblings and consume something.
"Which one was it?"
Putting the seeds and water to one side, Ozz looked over Karen's shoulder. A small black and white bird lay in her hand, curled up, dead.
"Choked," said Karen, putting the little bird's body in a box and marking the label with the words 'Specimen 1468-19 - To be dissected for study of biological anomalies.' "Choked on a sunflower seed. Stupid thing was probably in a rush to get back to work."
"What were they copying?" Collecting the last of her things, Karen held up a large slab of plasticine, used in the aviary to allow the birds to carve out the words and sentences of their stories. Reading a few lines, Ozz sighed. "Oh, Brave New World is such a good story, too."
"Yeah, well, this is the fifth death now. I've got a meeting with the containment team this afternoon. Gonna see if we can change some of the procedures. Not one of these silly birds has finished their story. We need to know what happens next."
"Bet you they'll just start on another one, or something stupid like that."
"If that happens, I'm gonna be so miffed." She looked down at the seeds. "Mash those up, will you. Clearly, we need to baby these Stephen King wannabes." As she pocketed the box, her nose wrinkled. "Have you showered recently?"
"Did so before I came in."
Karen grimaced. "I think you're going to have to start using drain cleaner. You reek."
"And a good morning to you." As she made her way to the exit, Ozz called out, "Hey, you still up for drinks at the Caterpillar on Friday with the Canadian?" Karen said nothing but waved a thumbs-up behind her as she shut the door. "Right then, my little chickadee, let's get you fed." And pouring out the contents of the bag, Ozz began to mash with rapid vigour.
"Just - open it up and pop it in."
It had been five minutes. The frozen rat in the tongs had started to defrost. As he made to try again, 548 pressed its hairy legs against the glass, halting him once more. Ozz, quite the animal lover, had one exception.
"OK. Come on, Ozzy. It won't harm you."
Fumbling at the lid, he gently lifted the lid and tried to place the rat carcass in. 548, disturbed by the sudden movement, scuttled across the tank. Gagging in disgust, Ozz slammed the lid down and backed away, dusting off his clothes as if he'd just handled something dirty. It took him a second to realise he'd left the tongs in the enclosure with the thing.
"Shit."
After another three minutes, he approached again, prying open the lid as gently as possible. 548 was now busying itself with the rat, which was rapidly refreezing in its pincers. Unfortunately for Ozz, this freezing was spreading into the still-attached tongs. If he wasn't quick, they'd be frozen stuck, and he'd have to wait a full hour before he could move in again. It was now or never. Pushing the lid over halfway, Ozz peeped in. Though disgusting, the creature was rather beautiful too. Its blue fur and exoskeleton stood out against the dirt floor, making it look like a lapis crystal. Well, a fuzzy lapis crystal with eight gross legs and eyes.
Taking a gamble, Ozz made a quick 'woof' and tapped the container. 548 remained unbothered. In an act of desperate courage, Ozz made another loud 'woof' and rattled the box. 548 scampered off into a corner, a bit of rat still in its maxillae. With the speed of a bullet, Ozz reached into the box, picked up the tongs, pushed the rest of the dead meat out with his finger, flicked it at 548 and shut the lid, all while gagging.
"Oh, god - I hate - Uhhhgggnggg!"
"Ah, welcome, brave soul!"
"Uh huh."
"I have awaited your fated arrival for many years!"
"I bet you have."
"Please, brave soul, enter the archway! Your adventure awaits!"
"Sounds lovely."
"Do not fear the road ahead. Every hero begins with trembling steps, but courage grows with each challenge faced."
Ozz rolled his eyes and placed the last of the piglets into the enclosure. The 'wizard', eyes devoid of any signs of life, paused, flopped a bit, and spoke once more.
"Ah, welcome, brave soul! I have awaited your fated arrival for many years!"
"Oh, give me strength," groaned Ozz as he made for the exit. As he did so, the 'wizard' crumbled and collapsed into the soft earth, and the archway that had stood erect next to him rotated, a number of wiggly legs popping out from its ornate surface. Looking back, Ozz saw the centipede's head pop out of the ground, shooting him a look that he assumed was vexation. It then dug into the ground and was gone, its tail saying, "Every hero begins with trembling steps" in a weak voice as it slid under the earth.
"God know how kids are fooled by these things," said Ozz with a shake of the head, closing the door to 4310's enclosure.
"Hey, Wizard!"
Turning around, Ozz finally spotted Benjamin. He stood near the climbing frame and was currently busying himself with a small creature.
"How are the little things?"
Coming closer, Ozz could now see what the creature was that Benjamin had in his arms. Suckling on a bottle of warm milk and purring calmly was an adorable clouded leopard. Nearby, its sibling floated in the air, having already finished their dinner. All of them shared the same black sigil on their temples, which glowed a ghostly green every now and again.
"This one's just finishing her meal. She's an active one, be warned. Won't be surprised if she asks you to -"
No sooner had Benjamin finished speaking did the big cat lick the last drops of milk from her muzzle and wiggle free, bolting straight to Ozz.
"I think," sighed Ozz, bending down to stroke the cat's head and chin, "this place is going to become the new lunch spot". It opened its mouth and let out a relaxed 'mreow'. It was very precious.
"CRACK!!!"
A loud, crumbling sound came from behind the two. The ground shook briefly, followed by another, more distant crumbling sound. Both men steadied themselves, the leopards wavering slightly in the air.
"What was that! Is that -"
"Hush!"
From the entrance way, the site's tannoy could be heard blasting an alarm. A female voice shouted out:
Warning! Containment breach detected in Sector 4. All personnel report to the nearest safe room. Please secure your specimens before exiting to avoid multiple breaches.
"Shit! Stay here. Get the leopards to their pens and head to the safe room at the end of the facility. Do not let anyone in or let anything out!"
"But Ozz, what about -"
But before Benjamin could finish, Ozz had jumped over the fences and run out the door. The female voice sounded again:
Warning! Multiple containment breaches detected. All personnel report to the nearest safe room. Warning! SCP-6884 within the facility. Warning! SCP-6448 within the facility. Warning! SCP-023 within the facility. Warning! SCP-
Being as quiet as possible, Ozz moved along the corridor, eyes darting. Around him, things were rumbling and tumbling, with the floor occasionally shaking slightly. He remained steady, however. Months on a boat, helping with the 4778 pods, had given him great sea legs. Hearing heavy footsteps, he pressed himself against the wall. Several Green Stags ran past.
"Right, next left, then second right, another left, then three doors down", murmured Ozz, resuming his march.
Taking the left, he reduced his pace when he heard something scuffle and sniff. Edging slowly, he tilted his head and peeped out around the corner. In the crossroad, a single black entity sat, licking one of its paws. At first, Ozz thought it was one of the 6884s, but looking closer, he noticed its fur was shaggier, its tail not sleek enough. He leant, trying to make out its face.
"Don't!"
Someone pulled him back violently and pressed a hand to his mouth. Ozz was about to protest, but remained silent when he saw who it was. Green held his finger to his lips, shaking his head. Very gently, he pulled out a mirror from his pocket and angled it around the corner, reflecting the lower section of the black creature. Glancing at it, Ozz gulped and breathed a heavy sigh of relief and fear. That was not 6884. That was 023.
"If it had caught you - you'd be -" Green made a grave shake of the head. "What are you doing here anyway? It's a breach. You should be in the safe room."
"The Glas Gaibhnenn," whispered Ozz, "It's here for treatment. If it gets killed or hurt, we're fucked."
Green thought. "OK, but we can't go this way. That dog will not move now that it has found a crossing. Is there another way?"
"If we go straight here and turn right, we can take the eastern route."
"OK. I'm coming with you."
"How are we going to get passed?" asked Ozz, jerking his head at the corner.
Green angled the mirror in his hand and gripped Ozz tightly. He held up a hand and motioned slowly and rhythmically. Then, ducking down, he zoomed to the other corner, covering his eyes, dragging Ozz along with him.
"A warning would've been nice."
The calf wasn't having a very nice time. The night before, a bunch of people all in white had tied him down and given him something that made him sleepy. This morning, he'd woken up all groggy, and his stomach wouldn't stop hurting. Then the floor had started shaking, and the wall collapsed, and something underneath, in the floor, hissed. The kind of hiss the geese would make back home, but louder and more guttural. Now, it was trying to avoid the other creatures.
The court of Hy-Brasil had many pets. Dogs, horses, a number of birds, and, of course, deer. But these things were not like the 'fairy cattle', with soft, white fur and golden antlers. These were unnatural and sickly. They moved as if ill or weakened, lolling their heads and moving their jaws as if unsure what they did. Their eyes moved independently and were devoid of pupils. And they smelt. A dirty, abhorrent smell that made the sick calf feel even iller.
The two deer-things lumbered towards the calf, their lazy eyes scanning the creature. As they moved, they spoke, mashing their jaws, gurgling, "Hello. Hello. Can you? Can you see?" The calf mooed as one of the deer-things' mouths dribbled a black liquid which hung like thick honey. "Can you see? Can you see me?"
"6448!"
Both deer-things flipped their heads upside down, their necks cracking as they did. In the wrecked entrance, Ozz and Green stood, both glaring at the creatures. As they swivelled round to move towards them, Green held up his rifle. But Ozz held out a hand.
"That's not going to work."
"It's a tranq, Ozzy. We need to -"
"They're alert and threatened. It won't work unless they've calmed down a bit. Believe me. I've studied these things for a good few months."
The deer-things moved backwards on their legs, their upside-down head focusing on the barrel of Green's gun. Something black and gooey moved across one of their eyes. "Hello. It's me. Hello. Can you feel me?"
"Ozzy," whispered Green, as the creature's mouths opened again, showing a mishmash of pointed yellowing teeth, "Do something."
Moving slowly, Ozz reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. One of the creatures turned an eye to look at Ozz, hunching a little, preparing to pounce. Ozz waited before pressing a button and throwing the phone on the ground. "Don't judge me," he said, giving Green a pained look of embarrassment. He then walked forward towards the deer-things, keeping his eye on the calf.
"Yeehaw!"
Green had known Ozz for a good number of years. They'd worked on several projects and had seen many stranger, horrible, and beautiful things. Things from myths and legends, cryptic science projects, outer space wonders and the mad workings of crazed people. He'd seen Ozz argue for 6 hours straight during the debacle with Wilson's Wildlife Solutions. He'd been there when Ozz had managed to convince the famed Jeremiah Cimmerian to allow Site-44 to have a humanoid section, with the help of some bonfire toffee, which Jeremiah had taken a liking to.
Green had never seen Ozz do this.
A few paces away from the phone, which was currently playing 'Popcorn' by the Crazy Frog, Ozz was dancing, or what Green assumed was his attempt at dancing. A kind of clumsy mixture of break dancing, Hyrox training and flag waving. Despite this, the deer-things could not take their eyes off of him. And after a few seconds into the song, to Green's amazement, they joined in. He watched as Ozz and the creatures moved in jerky synchronicity to the beat of the annoying music, the creatures appearing transfixed. In the background, Green noticed the calf, who seemed to be as confused as Green.
"You - can - shoot - now," said Ozz between grunts, as he shook his butt in what appeared to be a grinding movement. The deer-things mimicked, their lumpy bums jiggling like unset jelly. Green, transfixed by the strange display before him, didn't appear to hear. "Green - shoot - them - now!"
Snapping back, Green held up the rifle and shot several rounds of darts into the deer-things. The things paused, looked at Ozz, then at Green, made a strange gagging sound, and crumpled to the ground, their bodies twitching occasionally.
"Are we OK? That much tranq would've taken out an elephant. These guys still seem to be awake."
Ozz wasn't listening. Picking up his phone and pressing pause, he ran over to the calf and held it, stroking its fuzzy neck. The calf fought a bit but quickly relaxed as Ozz pressed his head against the animal's forehead, murmuring comforting words.
"Is it alright?"
Ozz nodded, continuing to stroke the calf's head. "He's just a bit spooked. Have a look at the bandages, will you?" From outside the room, the alarms which both men had tuned out suddenly turned off, followed by a female voice saying:
Attention! Attention! Containment breach under control. All personnel remain in the safe room until further notice. Attention! Attention! All members of MTF Gamma-4 are to report to your commanding officer for immediate assistance in recontaining.
"Oh, thank god for that," said Ozz, as Green shot a few more darts into the deer-things' chests, "Though we were going to have another code red then. Green, help me!" Unsure of what to do, Green gave the calf a once-over. Given its fur was bright green and covered in patches of moss and lichen, it was difficult to know what was wrong and what was right. "Check the bandages. Are they wet? Is there blood?"
Green shook his head. Relaxing, Ozz let the calf go and reached for a nearby bucket. "Keep an eye on him. Comfort him or something. I need to get some water."
"But -"
"He's a cow, Green. He's not going to hurt you."
Green did what he was told and tried his best to comfort the walking mossy lump. "High King Delbáeth II must really love his cows if you're willing to risk your life for it. What can it do? Make milkshakes?"
"Oh, its milk is marvellous." Ozz waddled back, the bucket now full of cold water. "Nah. We can't afford for this little one to die on our watch."
"It's one cow. Could they just breed another?"
Placing the bucket before the calf, Ozz kneelt down to check the bandages on its belly. "If this thing dies on our watch, all hell would've broken loose." He looked back at Green. "In the 19th century, MC&D took one of these beauties and auctioned it off as prime cut beef. Twelve hours later, a mutagenic blight began to spread through Ireland, leading to mass famine and emigration. History remembers it as the Irish Potato Famine. Kill one of these, accident or not, and you unleash a curse on you and your kingdom. Took Her Majesty's five years to reverse it."
Green's mouth opened slightly. "What? All that! From one cow?"
"Yeah. MC&D were banned from ever trading on the island after that. God know what would've happened if this little one had left us." Ozz grinned and stroked the calf's head, picking out a buttercut that was growing on its back. The two stood there for a few seconds, letting the calf drink.
"Are we going to talk about the dancing?"
"- and then I just shot the things, and that was that."
Karen snorted and shook her head. "Trust the Wizard to do something like that," she said, drinking the last dregs of her beer. She cranked her neck and looked over the top of the booth seat, trying to make out Ozz from the rest of the crowd. "Where is he? I thought he was getting another round with Benjamin?"
"He's probably bragging or something. You know Benji's his number one fan. I'll be surprised if we get our second pint before closing." No sooner had Green said those words did Ozz came charging towards them, pushing past the sea of chatting researchers and managers, followed closely by Benjamin and Amelia. In his hands, he held three overfilled glasses of brown and russet liquid.
"Here you go. Sorry, Green, they'd run out of the raspberry-flavoured piss you drink. You'll have to drink normal cider like the rest of us."
"That 'piss' is delicious, thank you!"
"No, it isn't," interjected Karen, promptly taking a large swig of her beer like it was the nectar of the gods, "It's Ribena pretending to be cider. Anyhow, what took you so long?"
"Met a few people. Amelia kept getting stopped and asked about her beaver research."
Ameila, a Canadian visitor from Site-43, had arrived the night before and was not used to British humour yet. She blushed and quietly sipped her G&T.
"I was just telling Karen about your sick moves with 6448," said Green, having decided to drink the normal cider much to his repulsion, "Are we expecting a call from Strictly any time soon?" Ozz narrowed his eyes.
"How did you even figure that out?" asked Benjamin, "The dancing?"
"Oh, that's not a story I want to say in front of him." Ozz gestured his glass towards Green, who answered by raising his middle finger. "Let's just say that scar on the back of my neck isn't from a mishap at the barber."
"Still, hats off to you, Wizard. Not only did you handle a dangerous anomaly during a containment breach, but you also saved a valuable visiting anomaly's life. Not many people can say they've done that on their days off."
Amelia, who hadn't really been listening, turned to look at Ozz, a look of confused surprise on her face. "You're on vacation?"
"Yeah."
"And you chose to work instead?" She looked around agast, hoping to see her shock shared. But everyone at the table just smiled, with Karen answering Amelia with a shrug of accepted perplexment. "Are you guys short-staffed or something?"
"Nah, I just wanted to remember the good days." Ozz leant back in his chair and smiled nostalgically. "With all this management and research I've had to do since my promotion, I never have time to work with the animals anymore. Anyhow, the containment specialists don't mind. They're always looking for someone to lend a hand. At least I know what I'm doing."
"And it pisses Carter off," added Green.
"That too."
Amelia, still baffled, stared into her drink and shook her head.
"You know Carter is going to find out at some point, Ozz," said Karen, finishing her second glass, "And he already doesn't like you. I'm not sure if your mating dance with the not-deer is going to save you from punishment this time."
"Karen, I've just saved the life of a magical cow that belongs to the king of the leprechauns. If Carter so much as demotes me, he'll have an extradimensional scandal on his hands." Ozz chuckled and sipped his drink. "I think I'm gonna be fine."