Heh, and what hard apples have fallen from my tree. Right now I can hear Igor directing the interns in their wrangling of one of those hard apples. Too often the results of my labors can be said to be more nutty than fruitful as the kids struggle to get G-117 into the flame booth. This time they are all wearing plenty of proper protection. G-117 doesn't know it's going into the flame booth any more than it could be wracked with hunger sitting in front of a bathtub full of nutritional paste and would starve to death before the proper motor neurons sequenced the necessary nerve receptors to immerse it's own hideous maw in the paste. Even more remarkable would be if G-117 extended one of it's nine tentacles into the nutritional paste, swirled up a small mass of it then retracted the paste-coated tentacle into it's maw. At that point I would win the Nobel Prize even if G-117 managed to consume part of the tentacle along with the paste. Then swallowing would be the next miracle, and I think I even heard one of the interns make this very same remark (though I'm not sure if he was referring to lab work).
Do I have high hopes for G-118? I have charts and slides and this laptop. One of the interns is tasked with getting the content of the charts and slides into the server where I can access it, but I don't blame her if that stuff gets backed up. At the moment it's much more of a priority that G-117 goes into the flame booth, for even the newest intern learned what that iodine-sulfurish smell meant. There are always priorities like these popping up in this lab. The interns follow each other's lead, after only about one week they don't need any prodding from me or Igor to recognize it could mean their very lives are in considerable jeopardy if they don't move fast at the proper moment.
At this proper moment Igor flicks the switch and G-117 shows no reaction whatsoever as the flames consume to fine grit every kilogram of it’s smelly hideous writhing mass.
The interns trudge down the passage in their armor to the decontamination shed. By twos they clank through the acid spray, the armor has to lose an external layer of it’s titanium-silvered shelling no less than 6/10ths of a millimeter to be reusable.
