2018-11-21 - spike - The New Shop 87

Author: spike
Title: The New Shop 87
Date: 21 November 2018

Chapter 87
I wasn’t interested in seeing my master bound and forced to drink piss whenever one of his slaves required it, so the next day, I rolled around the place getting my bearings. Learning the layout.

Well, that was when I wasn’t working with Two, swimming or lying in the scanner at least.

That’s pretty much how it went for the rest of the week.

New Year’s Eve had a little more celebration to it, some of those human slaves even got totally wasted but me? I chose to abstain. I wasn’t a human slave anymore, even though I looked like one and quite frankly, I could do without a hangover in the morning anyway.

I knew no more alcohol would pass my mouth tube once it was back in place, so decided, why not start as I meant to go on? This was one New Year’s resolution I wouldn’t even be able to break, probably the first in human history that lasted the rest of a person’s life. What’s more, god… The more time I spent frustrated in the wheelchair, the more desperate for it I was.

It was Monday, January third, 2022. A new year. A new outlook. I knew now, I belonged to Q in ways I never would’ve imagined possible at the same time last year.

I sat beside him again as we watched the CCTV. A buff and in-shape man wheeled another one in, this one with no arms or legs below his elbow and knee joints.

The sarge nodded and led them through into the back room and the slave wheeled his master to the desk facing the laptop.

Q tapped on his keyboard and a Skype session began.

“Good day. As you’ve probably guessed, I am master Q.”

The amputee smiled and nodded. “Yes, my boy’s informed me of your offer. The very idea, oh my god is it a good one. I’m still a little confused about what’s involved though.”

“The first part, simplicity itself. Sarge. Have the suits arrived?”

Sarge snapped to attention behind the wheelchair. “Yes, sir. The package arrived this morning, sir.”

“Well, then. First, we put you into a suit similar to the temp one your boy wore. Yours is special, made to measure as is the dog suit.”

“And I’ll be utterly incapable of communication within it?”

“The inner suit, yes. All the slaves know how to talk using their fingers. Alas, as you lack them, you’ll be incapable of expressing yourself. Within the dog however, you will be able to express basic emotions, as I’m sure you’re aware by observing your own dog.”

“I think being out of this chair and mobile under my own power again, it’ll be worth it. Now, how will the extras work?”

“The hood of the dog contains a mesh of sensors for taking your electroencephalogram. That’s how it reads your emotions. We believe with a lot of work on our computers, pattern matching your brain waves, you should be able to transfer your surface thoughts or perhaps your mind’s eye to a tag on your collar. That will, once we’ve identified the relevant patterns, vocalise those thoughts or images. That’s how we hope it might work anyway. Emotions are one thing. Such complex patterns however… Only one way to find out and that’s to try. It may take some time.”

He nodded.

Q smiled. “This idea was originally proposed by M, behind you. I do have a question however.”

“Go on.”

“The human mind is an extremely complex and varied thing. No two people are alike. I for example, have an inner voice. A voice I actually hear speaking the words I’m thinking. I have heard some have a more… image based mind. They don’t think their thoughts in the same way I do. Can you tell me how it is with you? It could be important.”

“Interesting. Yes, I think I’m of the inner voice type too. I can imagine pictures of course but when pondering something, my mind does speak. Do I want pickle or peanut butter… I think pickle, for example.”

“We’ll have to try different things and see which gets the best results of course. It may be that your inner voice is too ingrained, too… embedded to distinguish, for example, but imagining a picture may trigger something in a different part of the brain we can use. How long are you willing to remain a dog this time?”

“I have no need to work. When I was retired from the military I was provided with a more than adequate pension. My boy helps immensely in that respect too, not having to pay for external care. As long as it takes.”

“In most cases, our slaves are allowed out of the dog to get exercise once a week, but in your case, I think it may be beneficial for you to remain in it for as long as you remain there.”

“If I’m capable of walking, even running… What the hell. I agree.”

“And your boy?”

“He can either train me if you can’t spare an experienced dog trainer yourself, he has the experience after all… Or if you wish, he could become Buster again. Entirely up to you. I place myself and my boy entirely at your disposal until this experiment is done.”

“Excellent. You understand, once you’ve been tubed up, you will have only paw taps as a method of communication until we’ve perfected the technique? You may not be free of it for several months?”

He sat bolt upright in the chair, looked in alarm at his boy.

The boy nodded with a grin. “It hurts, sir. For us. When we’re removed from the dog. Our knees and elbows, our arms and legs bent back on themselves for all that time. You don’t have that, sir. I think you should do it. If you want my opinion anyway.”

“Jesus, I never expected it to take months!”

“Look on the bright side. As long as you’re a dog, we can enter you into the races. You’ll be treated as one of mine however, no monetary prizes, but prizes of pleasure and free time instead.”

“I’ll… I’ll get to race?”

“Yes.”

“Do it. Boy, help me out of these clothes.”

Buster chuckled. “Yes, sir.”

As Buster undressed his master, I looked at Q and nodded at the screen.

He hit mute. “You want to speak?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very well. Patching you in.” He tapped away for a few seconds. “You’re good to go.”

“Sir. I may have some advice. The name’s Number Eleven, sir. You may be more familiar with me as Tyson.”

“Tyson? The hunter?”

“Yes, sir. I’ve got the most experience as a dog. I was the first.”

He nodded. “An honor. God, what I’ve seen of your performance… Go on.”

“Even if this experiment fails, sir, I think it’s worthwhile. Even if you lose the ability to communicate vocally, you can still tap out letters, two taps followed by six to indicate the desire to spell things out followed by letters using a similar format. It takes longer but it’s enough to get important messages across. I’ve often expressed my desire to permanently become Tyson and that was before this talk of vocalisation of thoughts emerged. I would’ve been permanently mute, only capable of tapping, not that I would’ve done that very often.”

“You… you wanted…”

“I found my inner dog, sir. I found I loved it, putting aside my human concerns. When I’m Tyson, my only care is where the next ball is coming from or when hunting, where the next prey is. The best times of my life have been when sealed into Tyson, sir.”

“You’re not going to do it though, surely?”

“Q won’t permit it, sir. I am his property and as such, I have other work to do. So no. It’s just a dream. One that’ll never leave me. I just have to satisfy myself with the fact that I will be Tyson in most races.”

“Not all?”

“Possibly not the next one, I’m not in a position to take part right now and believe me, that is incredibly depressing for me. I’m sitting beside my master now. I’m not in America. I will be back but it may not be for a while. We had important business to take care of here. Sitting here beside him though… That is a compensation that makes it worth missing one.”

He nodded.

“Sir, my advice… When training as a dog, try to find yours. Your inner dog. Forget human worries. If you can, just push everything to one side, even put your human mind to sleep. It may take some time but I found I can. It’s still there, in the background but I can ignore it, only allowing it to surface if something important needs to be told. During the first race for example, at the end, I realised my use of poison oak as a cover had contaminated me. I managed to warn the sarge there before he reached down to pet me.”

“Thank you. That… does sound intriguing.”

“I think you should spend the first week training as a dog before the experiment commences, sir. No voice. Just like all other dogs. Get used to it. Walking, running, chasing balls and most importantly when it comes to races, reading the sensations your tail produces. Those are important. Once all that becomes second nature, it’ll probably be a lot less for the computers to process. If we scanned you when you were still learning there could be all kinds of other things getting in the way.”

“Thank you, that does make sense. I agree.”

Q looked at me and grinned. “M, take him to the chair. Suit him up and seal him in. You may need the help of Buster to ensure the inner suit is properly cured in this case. Oh, and Buster...”

Buster jumped. He looked at the screen. “Yes, sir.”

“You will be suited too. I’ve not decided yet whether you’ll become Buster again straight away but you will for the races. I think it may benefit you to become a blank for the time being. You may not see your master again for a while but when you do, he will be a dog. As you’re likely to be in the suit a lot longer than your previous experiences, expect your first cleaning cycle to be painful. We need to remove a lot to prepare you for long term wear.”

“I get to spend months? As a blank?”

“Of course.”

”Yes, sir! Thank you, sir.”

“Get to it, M.”

With a nod, M led Buster and his master out of the room.

Q ended the skype session.

“Good job, Eleven. Damned good job. I may need your expertise again when it comes to the pattern recognition algorithms.”

“My pleasure, sir. If nothing else, it’ll be a distraction from this chair.”

So, something else to occupy my time. Good, cos god did I need it. A blank wheeled me back to IT as soon as I’d had my scan and swim and we began work on the program that should help identify key patterns to allow communication.