Working on possibly alien, inter-dimensional portals of flesh was surprisingly mundane. We all had our routines. Wake up, brush teeth, eat Wheaties, kidnap orphans, break for lunch, etc. The brain's plasticity was truly remarkable. You could get used to anything. That was why I noticed whenever something changed. One morning, there was a large white swathe over a section of the flesh interface.
"What's up with that?" I asked Ann. I liked Ann. She was my superior, but she didn't act like it. "Part of the interface was damaged during an accident last night. We're seeing if it heals like human flesh. Come on. It's time to break for lunch."
I followed Ann to the mess.
"What is it today?" I asked as we got in line behind Mark.
"Steak," he said, "or some casserole thing for the vegetarians."
I chuckled. It was a bit of a running joke that there were no vegetarians left at the facility. Moral superiority was hard to muster up when you were blackbagging orphans.
We collected our food and retired to our usual table.
"You know what the most fucked up thing about MKUltra was?" Mark asked around a mouthful of steak.
Mark was obsessed with MKUltra. I think he used it to deal with what were doing. Me, I used alcohol.
"What?" I asked.
"The way they dosed the agents too. An agent could be using hookers to lure people to a warehouse so they could load them up with LSD, and they would be bleeding, sweating, and peeing the stuff themselves. Fucking fucked up."
Something else had changed. It had taken me longer to notice it than the bandage on the flesh interface, but it finally registered in my remarkably plastic brain.
Ann had gotten the casserole.