[receiving data..]

[transmission "Mutagen Supplement #4461" received]

[open file]

designation: #4461
chemical notation: [DATA EXPUNGED]
projected uses: dietary supplement and vault harmony booster
status: FAILED

[overseer's note; personal]

Molerats. They're almost a perfect comparison to those of us who dwell beneath the ground. Where they dig tunnels we built the Vaults and though both of us hide from the horrors of post-nuclear war they are able to thrive. We… are not.

The Geeks had me approve #4461 on the grounds that if it were successful it would mean our population went through one THIRD of the supplies that we do now. Given how some of our other dwellers seem to consume their body weight in food a day we knew it was only a matter of time before the supplies ran dry. Never was there a greater need for this supplement (and never have I been so failed before!). It was designed as an appetite suppressor. Enzymes taken from the resourceful molerats would capitalise on the creatures ability to go for months without food. It was estimated that it would reduce the eating requirement of the average fur to one meal a day, maybe less. All the Geeks had to do was find the right enzyme, the right chemical, introduce it to our subject and we could engineer the rest.

#4461 was the /wrong/ chemical. We introduced it to dweller #2041 (a.k.a Beth) in the standardised testing chamber, having instructed her that she had won one of the many vault lotteries and was offered the chance to participate in ground breaking research that could see her promoted several floors above where she was. The meek white and grey cat all but pranced into the room, eager to do her part for Vault 063. She was injected with #4461 and after two days of exhibiting no side-effects was released back into normal life. The first incident occurred roughly two hours after #2041 was released from the testing chamber.

I was notified by one of the techs first and quickly flicked through my cameras before I found the mid-level cafeteria. A circle of bewildered furs stood around a rapidly growing white, fluffy mess of a cat. Without regard for her clothing (her vault suit taut across her swelling middle) or the tables she knocked aside with her gut, #2041 was demolishing whatever food she came across, clearing out one aisle then another. She would pause to hold her stomach and whimper now and then before moving on, clearly possessed by a hunger without bounds. #2041 didn't stop until two whole cafeterias were cleared and she had been moved onto one of the dorm tables as a makeshift bed (as her huge gut had no chance of fitting in one of the standard cots). Later the Geeks came to me with the realisation that they had instead tapped into the more voracious aspects of the molerats, giving Beth the ability (and instinctive desire) to gorge herself until she was fat enough to survive a long, nuclear winter. This condition is now a permanent part of #2041 and one she is slowly coming to terms with, as I ponder what new job befits a growing balloon of fat such as her.

[transmission end]

A YCH won by  MLPburnie ^u^