EXODUS

— by Jeff Karamales

Chapter 18
Unveiled
 

Wyatt padded along the trail at a solid run. Like the other Furs that had undergone the forced genetic rewrite he felt the need for physical activities and running was one of the more satisfying exercises he could indulge in. Unlike the others at the former Olympic Village, the savannah cat ran around the private estate of Ásmundr Gustavsson, the thirty one year old Swede often joining him for an invigorating five mile jog before heading to the man’s personal gym in the lower level of his manor house. He glanced at the tall man as they paced each other, the only sound being the man’s running shoes on the packed earth of the trail and their clothes rustling in the morning air.

“So…are you ready…for tomorrow?” Ásmundr asked, the man keeping his breathing pace without slowing as he spoke.

“As ready…as I can be,” Wyatt replied. “What do you…think our chances…are?”

Ásmundr slowed to a trot, then a walk, his dropping out of the run causing Wyatt to slow as well. They continued in silence for a while before stretching to keep their muscles from tightening. “I think the chances of the court ruling in the favor of you and the other Furs is very good. We want even better odds, though, which is why you and Ramad will be making an appearance before the court tomorrow. It’s why the arrest of Andre Bolivar occurred four days ago, why the US Supreme Court has placed Senator Harold Bingham in holding. We have done everything we could, and now it is time to watch the results of all our hard work. It is time for justice to be served for all of the suffering that you and the others have endured.”

Ásmundr stood and placed his hands on the savannah cat’s shoulders and gave the Fur a smile full of confidence that Wyatt couldn’t help but mimic.

“If things go well all of you will be able to live free without hiding yourselves from the rest of the world, my friend. You will be able, as much as I can give any of you, to have a normal life, or the best that I can help with.”

“You have,” Wyatt agreed. “You don’t mind if I keep on being a little nervous until tomorrow’s over, though, right?”

Ásmundr laughed. “Not at all. Now then, I still have things to prepare. Don’t forget that our plane leaves at six tonight. We’ll need to start out for the airport by four thirty. If you don’t mind continuing the rest of your morning exercises without me, I need to make sure that the arrangements for our stay in Geneva are taken care of.” The man turned to head back to the manor house before pausing. “The kitchen staff has been told to get you or Ramad whatever you want whenever you may want it, so feel free to challenge them, Wyatt. My chef enjoys a good challenge and prides himself on never disappointing.”

The savannah cat nodded before dropping to the ground to begin a series of push-ups before something occurred to him and he called out after Gustavsson. “Halley’s meeting us in Geneva, right?”

Ásmundr laughed as he turned around. “Halley will definitely be there, my friend. She begins the testimony in the morning. If it’s any consolation I spoke to her last night and she’s just as nervous as you are. Of course, that was the reason that I booked the two of you in the same suite. She’ll be waiting for us at the hotel.”

Wyatt smiled as the man turned and jogged back towards his house, a feeling of anticipation filling the Fur as he thought about everything. It had been a month since he and Halley had been able to spend any time together and the promise of seeing her in a few short hours filled him with a thrill that was similar to the delicious anxiety that he felt before prom as a high schooler. With renewed vigor, the savannah cat decided to give Gustavsson a bit more of a head start before sprinting after the man, intent on beating him back to the manor house. Both laughed as Ásmundr finally made it to the stone steps that led up from the gardens to the veranda and a set of ornate stained glass double doors that let into the house itself. Wyatt had been leaning nonchalantly on a stone plinth that held a small pear tree looking as if he hadn’t just run full out for a little over two miles.

“I know you are faster than me,” the tall Swede said as he made the last step with perspiration darkening his clothing, “you don’t have to prove it to me every chance you get!”

Giving the other a chuffing laugh, Wyatt let the other precede him inside before turning and heading to his own suite.

Making sure the clothing that Frau Ginzler was turning out on a regular basis made it into the hamper before selecting a fresh set, the top looking more like a lounging robe than anything else in turquoise and shorts that were more along the lines of baggy Capri style pants in dark green, Wyatt dodged into the bathroom. The woman that had been making his clothes had located suitable fabrics that were durable, fairly wrinkle free and light enough with a breathability that Wyatt and the others had no problem wearing them in the summer heat. The experiment with underwear was a complete disaster and had been a lesson in pain and discomfort that Wyatt wouldn’t soon forget, though it had been nowhere nearly as bad as the females that lived in the former Olympic Village and their own trials with various bits of feminine wear that hadn’t panned out. This had given all of them their first lesson in the importance of maintaining good hygiene and the fact that they would no longer have the safety margin that other people did of underwear.

Setting his fresh clothing off to the side after turning on the water to let it warm up, Wyatt stepped into the shower, still enamored with the novelty of having several nozzles blasting him from all directions. No sooner was he able to work shampoo and soap into his fur and hair than one of the jets of water blasted it out leaving him feeling extremely clean. The best part, at least as far as the savannah cat was concerned, were the jets that had been specifically set at the bottom edge of the shower for feet. As torrents of hot water blasted his pads and between his toes, Wyatt’s eyes rolled back in his head in pure bliss, the only other thing that he could think of that even compared being the moments of passion shared with his Halley.

By the time he finally shut off the showers, wicked the residual water out of his fur with a sort of plastic blade and stepped to the area that had heated blowers mounted to the wall, the anthrocat’s spirits were climbing. The people that were helping to push various rights through for Wyatt and the others were all of the mind that a positive outcome was inevitable and it did much to salve his worries. As he slipped on the fresh clothing, Wyatt was almost looking forward to the next day in Geneva, though he knew that much of his anticipation was from the promise of being with Halley once more.

She’d been an unwitting accomplice of what had been done to him and the other prisoners, but had done everything she could along with a few others to lessen their pain. Halley had also filled Wyatt with hope, going so far as to put her own life in danger for him. There was no doubt in the savannah cat’s mind that she didn’t love him, not really seeing what had been done to him and the final efforts of Emily Lesko’s experiments, but saw the person he was inside, the man he still felt himself to be. All he knew was that Halley Kane made him believe that anything was possible and that with her in his life, things might just turn out all right. 

*** 

“Well, this is certainly an unpleasant surprise,” Ásmundr Gustavsson commented dryly as the executive limousine that had been hired for the trip from the hotel to the building the proceedings pulled slowly through a mob of reporters and journalists. “How did they find out?”

Amelie du Mournet stared out the window as camera flashes went off in rapid succession as photographers tried to get a glimpse of the individuals inside the car, their efforts thwarted by the privacy glass that was mirrored against spying of any kind, including electronically aided visuals. “I don’t know, though this may help us,” the woman said, dressed for the day in a simple business pantsuit of light blue with a ruffled blouse and neckerchief about her throat. “Then again, it may also hamper our efforts if the judges believe that we were responsible for this. Unfortunately in this ‘Age of Information’ anything that involves the World Court is grist for the rumor mill and brings out reporters like a rock thrown at a hornets’ nest.”

In the seat across from the tall Swede and young woman sat Wyatt, Halley and Ramad, both Furs looking out the windows with wide-eyed shock and no little fear. Each time one of the reporters bumped against the slow moving car both jerked, their claws involuntarily sliding out to grip the cushion of the seat.

“Don’t worry, monsieurs,” Amelie said gently. “We will be parking in the underground where there is plenty of security.”

The driver, Ásmundr’s own manservant Ulfi, turned his head while still keeping his eyes on the road and spoke through the open privacy screen and spoke in Swedish before switching to English for the rest of the passengers. “I’m sorry, Sir. I don’t think I’ll be able to make it to the underground. The crowd is far too dense for me to continue without harming someone.”

As the others all moved and turned so that they could look through the windscreen, each saw the man was correct. Reporters with cameras and microphones and video recorders packed the space in front of the car, some even going so far as to shimmy up onto the hood to get a look at inside the vehicle. To the right side of the limo were the steps that led into the building where the judges for the World Court waited and they saw that police and even a few military personnel trying their best to restrain the crowd and push them back behind barriers that had been knocked aside or trampled flat.

“I can’t even turn the car around or back up,” Ulfi told them with a brittle edge to his voice.

“Stop the car, then,” Ásmundr ordered as he craned his head around. “It certainly won’t help us if we injure anyone. The right side is somewhat clear. The police and soldiers have the crowd held at bay. Maybe we can make a run for the doors.” The man looked pointedly at Wyatt and Ramad. “It might be best if you go ahead and don the items I gave you at the hotel,” he suggested.

Without question both anthrocats unfolded the bundles of fabric that they’d been given, each of the items turning out to be something like cloaks with hoods that would help conceal the two Furs. Halley helped Wyatt with his while Amelie moved to assist the snow leopard, the large buttons made so that neither feline would have problems getting the fronts closed.

“Well, Mister Frodo, are you ready to face Mordor?” Ramad asked with a forced grin as he tugged the hood into place.

“Not funny,” Wyatt replied as he also slipped the hood of his own cloak over his head, his ears posing no problem as they were already folded flat against his head in anxiety. “To be honest I think I’d rather carry the One Ring to Mt. Doom than face that,” he said with jerk of his head to indicate the throng of journalists.

“There isn’t much of a choice left to us I’m afraid,” Ásmundr noted as the lines the police formed surged and ebbed as the crowd seemed to pulse with an odd sort of collective undulation. “Wyatt, Ramad, as soon as you exit the car head straight for the doors. Whatever you do, don’t stop, don’t even hesitate.” He looked pointedly at both Furs until each nodded.

With a swallow to quell his apprehension, Wyatt readied himself, pausing only long enough to accept a kiss from Halley for good luck. Taking a moment to gain his own equilibrium, Ásmundr nodded. “Go!”

Amelie was the one that tripped the door release and Wyatt followed Ramad out of the limousine and straight to the steps that led into the building. All around them was a sort of susurration as the voices from the crowd mixed with the electronic whirring sounds of cameras of every description. Then, as the two cloaked Furs emerged, an eruption of deafening noise hammered their ears as questions and calls for their attention was screamed and shouted from the mob. A renewed effort to push past the police to get at the two strangely dressed individuals. The noise doubled and trebled as Ásmundr exited the vehicle along with Halley and Amelie and the man hurried the two along with a hand placed at the lower backs of both women.

Ramad was already halfway up the shallow steps that led into the glass and stone structure, the architecture demonstrating quite clearly that the building had been designed not only for form, but also function and looked almost as imposing as the bunker where the two anthrocats had been created, when a new surge of activity from the crowd strained the line of police and soldiers. One particularly large bulge appeared in the line as journalists and camera operators shouted questions at Ásmundr. Overhead there was the incessant buzzing of small drones with cameras that sounded like a swarm of mosquitoes when the mob wasn’t drowning them out.

Finally the line broke, police and reporters alike sprawling on the marble stonework of the plaza in front of the building while even more rushed the Swede, recognizable as an international celebrity, and two women and others angled towards Wyatt and Ramad. Before he could duck clear someone grabbed the savannah cat’s cloak and yanked hard enough so that the hood was pulled away, revealing him to everyone.

There was a strange moment of silence as the people that made up the press mob tried to wrap their senses around what they were seeing, many of them staring wide-eyed and slack mouthed at the anthrocat. Then shutters started going off as photos were taken in rapid fire and video recorders came to life. Apart from the sounds of the various imaging devices, it was a standoff with reporters staring at the Fur and Wyatt staring at the men and women, both parties in complete shock and utter amazement. It was such an awkward moment that the people that surrounded Gustavsson and the two women turned to see what was happening, they, too, falling silent at what they saw.

Using the temporary break in the barrage of questions and microphones being stuck in his face, Ásmundr guided the two women towards the savannah cat, the larger man bulling his way through when he had no option until they were just feet apart. When one reporter moved to get a better picture of Wyatt, he accidently knocked Halley over, the young woman landing with a yelp on the hard marble as the heel for her shoe snapped off. Without even thinking Wyatt darted to her, offering her his paw-like hand and helping her up, his arm cinching about her waist to hold her close as he turned her for the steps.

“Are you okay?” Wyatt asked as they headed for the steps, unmindful of the look of horror that Ramad gave as he waited for the crowd to turn ugly, or Ásmundr as he awaited the same thing.

When Haley smiled and slipped her own arm around the savannah cat’s waist, they continued on, the silence broken by whispered exclamations in a multitude of languages, most of them saying the same thing.

“It spoke!”

Though there were images, video clips and even a few sound bites of what just happened, most of the reporters were simply too stunned at what they’d just seen and the small group entered the venue for the court without further incident, soldiers and police, despite their own surprise, falling back to block the doors. 

*** 

Amelie du Mournet was in her element, and the facts that she provided the Judges of the World Court were backed with recorded footage, medical scans, written or recorded testimony of lab technicians and, in some instances, the journals of the late Doctor Emily Alexandra Lesko, PhD, herself. Then she called upon a witness, Halley Kane, the woman identified as one of the lead technicians in the clandestine project that had transformed the former prisoners into a combination of human and animal, and identified that she was partly responsible for aiding in creating four new species of life forms.

Amelie gave the other young woman a surreptitious glance from where she stood at the table she’d been assigned, the French woman neither fitting in as prosecutor nor defendant. She lifted a paper to glance at and set it down before speaking. “Miss Kane, please tell us about the situation and conditions of the facility you were at with the subjects of this hearing. What were the conditions like, in your opinion?” The Judges prompted the woman to describe the events and the things that she witnessed and was a part of.

“I don’t know if the conditions that the human test subjects were held in were better or worse than the various prisons all of them were incarcerated at. I know that I found the cells to be…inadequate. At least in my opinion. It was what was done to them that was the most horrific, though.” Halley looked at Wyatt as she added the last her eyes large and sad. “None of the other technicians or myself really knew what was happening until it was already done.”

A judge with her nameplate stating that she was Charlene Luray from Great Britain took off her tortoise shell glass and leveled a stony glare at the young woman seated in the docket for a long moment before prompting Amelie du Mournet to continue.

“And what, precisely, was done to the prisoner test subjects, Miss Kane? Not what we’ve seen and listened to from the materials that have been presented to the Court, but in your own words,” the lawyer asked.

Halley shook her head slowly, her eyes once again finding the savannah cat. She batted away a tear before it had a chance to fall or to smudge her very basic makeup.

“Miss Kane?” the Judge said tersely. “I, and the rest of the Judges, am waiting for your response.”

The girl reluctantly tore her gaze away from her lover and leveled a somber look at the older woman. “The prisoners endured the most inhumane treatment I have ever seen or heard of, Madam Judge. When they weren’t being taken to different laboratories for medical evaluation or experimentation, they were housed in secluded chambers that had ten cells each, the cells barely measuring two meters by three meters. Their facilities for personal sanitation were shut off after a couple of weeks due to a man that committed suicide by drowning himself in his toilet because he didn’t want to be used for the test. The subjects had to deal with these conditions for almost half a year.

“Meals consisted of ration packets of the most minimal quality, not enough in volume to truly satiate hunger, and fortified with caloric and nutritional enhancements to prevent starvation, but little else. The prisoners were also given supplement shots on a regular basis with their blood work to prevent deterioration from simple afflictions such as scurvy or iron deficiency. While required to exercise on a daily basis, punishment was swift and brutal for anyone that didn’t do what they were told, the guards motivating reluctant individuals through the use of shock prods, beatings, detention in isolation chambers and sensory deprivation along with…other means.”

“What do you mean by that?” Amelie inquired.

The young woman shuddered. “I…I saw the guards that had been hired to provide security, a private military company called Janissaries, LTD, water board prisoners, use socks filled with bars of soap or small rocks to beat some of them without fear of breaking bones or doing more than cause extensive bruising, and I saw instances of electric shock appl…applied to sensitive areas such as genitals. I also treated one woman that had been burned by the application of lit cigarettes…” Halley closed her eyes and tried to swallow at the resultant nausea at the things she’d witnessed and had to revisit before grabbing the pitcher of water next to her and pouring a glass that she downed with an audible gulp. It was a moment before she could continue.

“I was forced to assist in the beginning stages of the fertility experiments that Doctor Lesko ordered. I wasn’t part of the first team that…obtained the…er, components, but I was in charge of the group that tested the validity of breeding potential in the prisoners once their genetic alterations passed the halfway point.”

“Before you tell us what that means,” Amelie interrupted, “tell us about the process that began the genetic alterations of the prisoners.”

Halley nodded and once more glanced at Wyatt, wondering if the man would still love her after she was done testifying.

“Before I, or any of the other medical technicians knew what was happening, Doctor Emily Lesko, the woman in charge of the experimental program, had already administered a solution of altered subject DNA that was combined with screened and altered animal DNA and the catalyst for the entire process. It wasn’t until those injections, given through the cervical juncture of the spine to saturate the menial fluids with the mixture, were complete that the rest of the technicians and myself were allowed to interact with the prisoners, though only in very controlled and limited periods.”

Judge Luray slipped the arm of her glasses from her red lipsticked mouth. “What was this catalyst? Mind you, you are under oath.”

Halley adjusted her posture as she spoke. “Goetazine, Madam Judge.”

“And what does this goetazine do?”

“It acts as a sort of ultra-effective cellular solvent, enabling the altered DNA to not only pass through the semi permeable membrane of cell, but to adhere chromosomes to very specific points and patterns within the DNA chain of the cell nucleus so that when cellular reproduction occurs, the new modified chain will continue in the new cell and spread. This is how the subject is changed over the course of time into what are now being dubbed furmankind.”

“Why inject it into the fluid of the spinal cord? Why not into the blood stream?” Luray inquired, actually interested in the answer.

Halley grew a thoughtful expression. “It wasn’t until we were all taken off the island that I was able to look at many of the records Doctor Lesko had in her personal computer, so I only learned about the reasons well after the fact. The reason that the injections were given at that point is that the human body replaces all of its blood cells too quickly for the solution to take hold. In a little over a week the genetic changing serum would have been flushed from the subject with only a few portions of the cell groups to be modified. The only other way this method might have worked is through continual saturation and for that to occur the cerebral-spinal fluid is the optimum choice as the altered DNA serum can conceivably reside in that portion of the body for several years, slowly releasing the serum in a continual course of months. When earlier attempts that I didn’t learn about until later were tried the subject often malformed, experiencing either a partial transformation of random areas, or rapid overdevelopment. Either way malformation is an agony beyond what the surviving subjects endured and was often fatal. By using the cerebral-spinal fluid as a subject’s own version of continuous release, debilitating and fatal malformations were reduced by nearly eighty percent.”

Amelie flipped through the papers on her table before consulting a personal data device before her next question. “And how many subjects were taken for the experiments?”

“Doctor Lesko was able to obtain a total of one hundred and sixty nine individuals.”

“And how many are left out of that original number?”

Halley muttered an answer that the microphone at the docket didn’t pick up. One of the other Judges, a man named Piter Van der Parr of Holland leaned forward. “Please be saying that again but louder,” he directed.

“There are fifty one subjects still alive.”

“One hundred and eighteen individuals died during the forced genetic changes?” Amelie asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes.”

“And what were the causes of death?” the French woman asked.

The young woman being questioned shivered slightly despite the output of the air conditioning system and the warmth that permeated the building and took another sip of water before answering. “Out of one hundred and eighteen subjects, nineteen were suicides, thirteen were lost through fights between the prisoners. Thirty seven subjects died because of internal trauma caused by medical implants that weren’t removed prior to the initialization of the mutation process, nine died from severe malformations,” Halley got to the last series of numbers and turned green as she’d learned what had happened to the last batch of fatalities. “Forty prisoners were forced through a different series of changes and…and eaten by other subjects.”

“Eaten?!?” Judge Van der Parr exclaimed. “You will be clarifying this!”

Halley nodded and steeled herself. “Doctor Lesko used other modified DNA and goetazine serums on the last group of forty. Instead…instead of basing their modifications on predatory animals, they were injected with the genetic materials of rabbits, deer and other prey animals. Doctor Lesko allowed subjects that had been separated from their primary groups to hunt them after prolonged solitary confinement and were near starved. With the changes that were being wrought on a cellular level, all of the subjects had higher than normal caloric requirements that were barely met. All…all of them were…were starving throughout their entire time as prisoners and test subjects.”

The court went silent, the Judges all looking a little ill at that revelation. It was several moments before Amelie resumed her questioning. “Returning to an earlier topic, what did you mean when you said that genetic materials were obtained for breeding experiments and how was this done?”

“Doctor Lesko ordered that the most barbaric methods of harvesting ova be used.” Halley described the method, one involving the most humiliating means possible accompanied by a large needle without the consideration of anesthetics. A similar procedure was used on males to obtain viable seminal fluids. Her descriptions were enough to cause every person in the room to wince with the pain that could only be imagined by those that hadn’t undergone the collection process while Wyatt and Ramad both sat in shame as what was done to them was related to the Judges. “When the…materials were brought to me I was ordered to determine if the different groups were capable of breeding. The tests I ran were positive as long as the parents were within the same species group, despite combinations that would never be seen in nature. A tiger subject could breed with one that was based on a domestic cat, or a cheetah and panther, polar bear and a European brown bear, any of the canine types, or a mix of any of the vulpine genus. Their shared human base genetics enabled the possibility of children between very different parents, but they had to be from the same group of the four types produced.”

“And did you fertilize any ova collected? Were there embryos?” Amelie asked flatly.

Halley nodded silently, her eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“What happened to those embryos, Miss Kane?”

“I…I destroyed them,” she husked as tears finally began to fall.

“Why?”

The young woman’s eyes snapped open and for the first time she exhibited a subdued fury. “I destroyed them so that Lesko wouldn’t be able to do to children what she’d done to the others! What she did was monstrous! I can’t begin to tell you how vile the things were that she made us do. A person can’t describe it! Things that we read about from history…the Nazi experiments on Jews and Slavs and the mentally handicapped, or the things the old Soviet Union did to try and breed super soldiers? Unless you saw it, unless you were there you can’t begin to understand!” She sobbed once and lifted her chin defiantly. “I couldn’t help the others as much as I wanted to, but I swore I wouldn’t let her have children!”

Two more hours passed with questions from the Court appointed investigator and Amelie du Mournet before they were done. Halley was an emotional wreck by the end and was ready to step down before one of the Judges stopped her. It was the woman from Great Britain and her calm demeanor had been shaken at the testimony of the young geneticist and the revelations that had been presented. “Miss Kane, did any of you try to help the prisoners at all?”

Halley nodded. “Some of us did, yes.”

“What happened?” the woman pressed.

Halley shrugged. “While we were there we didn’t know. I knew that some of the staff just disappeared. We thought that maybe they’d been reassigned to something else. It wasn’t until I was able to access the computer journals of Doctor Lesko that I learned they were killed. She had two of them shot. Two more were used to replace subjects that had died when Lesko tried to force a faster genetic change. My…my friend that was caught trying to help one of the prisoners that she…that she formed an emotional attachment to was given to one of the more violent subjects.”

“And her fate was?” Judge Luray prompted.

“She was raped to death and eaten, Madam Judge,” Halley told the woman flatly. “The same thing she was going to have done to me.”

“For helping one of the prisoners?” another Judge, one Rama Luzan from the Phillipines asked.

“Yes, Madam Judge.”

“What did you do?” the woman asked.

“Tried to give one of the subjects that I cared about and the others in his Group extra rations, anything to let them know that they weren’t alone…weren’t forgotten.”

Judge Luzan leaned forward. “This prisoner that you cared about, is he, or she, one of the survivors?”

“Yes, Madam Judge.”

Halley expected more questions about her motivations but found herself dismissed and led to the area reserved for witnesses. Before she was taken from the room she cast one more look at Wyatt, hoping that she hadn’t destroyed the bond they shared but passed through the doorway before she could ascertain his feelings.

A short recess was called for lunch, for Wyatt and Ramad their meal was brought to them while they sat in yet another room by themselves and ate silently while waiting to be called back in, not sure how the day was going to end and the savannah cat wondered what would happen to him and the others even if they received a favorable ruling. 

*** 

Wyatt was called to testify after the Court returned from lunch and followed Ramad. Once he verified who he was the opposing counsel, not really there to go against what he and Ásmundr were attempting, but to ensure the veracity of the testimony, waived his chance to question first and conceded to Amelie du Mournet.

“You are Wyatt Renner?” Amelie asked as the savannah cat sat in the docket, Ramad already having been questioned and wondered what more he could add.

“I am.”

“You were in prison in the State of Florida in the United States awaiting a death sentence for the murder of your mother and many other patients at a retirement home?” the woman continued, glancing up with a pair of small rectangular glasses perched on her nose that caught the overhead lights and blanked out her eyes, making her look less than human for a moment. Wyatt new that the glasses were an affectation, something Amelie readily admitted to as it made her look a little older, a little more studied and prevented others from underestimating her abilities despite her youth.

“That is correct.”

“You were taken to the chamber where you were to receive a lethal injection, thereby ending your life,” the Judge continued. “This is also correct?”

“It is.”

“Counsel, these are facts that are already acknowledged by the Court. You may begin the questioning of the individual known as Wyatt Renner,” Van der Parr instructed as he set down an electronic slate and clasped his hands on the surface in front of him.

“Yes, Sir Judge. I am simply validating what is already on file.”

Van der Parr nodded indulgently and leaned back in his chair to watch the proceedings and testimony.

Amelie nodded and returned her attention back to the savannah cat. “How long were you a captive of Doctor Lesko before she began the experiments?”

Wyatt shrugged. “I don’t know exactly. It felt like three or four days. We couldn’t be sure of how much time passed because we were in an underground bunker complex. The lights would come on when it was time to get up and exercise, guards would escort us to and from the different labs and also bring in food. It might have been more, though. It was hard to tell.”

Questions directed at the anthrocat had Wyatt again telling the Judges what life was like. He described often being strapped down for different examinations, most of them invasive and painful, of the complete lack of dignity he and the others were treated with. He spoke of understanding that all of the other prisoners were living on borrowed time and in talking with the others that they, too, had come to accept their death sentences, but at times the situations that they all faced were worse than death. One of the Judges on the panel asked for the Fur to elaborate.

Wyatt shook his head as he tried to answer. “We were in pain for months. Not just simple aches or discomfort, but real pain. When our bones started to change they had to soften first. It got so bad that trying to stand or even roll over in bed made them flex. It hurt worse than any broken bone I’ve ever had. It happened to every bone we had. Then there were ones that grew that we didn’t have before while others disappeared. Muscles changed. When my own began to shift to become what they are now I got a cramp along my entire spine that I thought was going to bend me in two. It got so bad that a medic actually had to sedate me.

“Our insides changed as well…”

Wyatt looked at the men and women that served as Judges and shook his head. “Imagine every single painful thing you have ever been through, muscle cramps, stomach cramps, migraines, toothaches. Now imagine having to live with that twenty four hours a day for what had to be over a month. Add the experiments that were done on us on top of all that. Needles, electric shocks, all of it while we were kept just this side of starving. It was hell.”

Several of the Judges looked disturbed by the things Wyatt went on to describe, the inability to maintain bodily functions for some, for a while a few couldn’t even keep down food. He told them of some of the guards tormenting him and some of the other prisoners when they were completely incapable of defending themselves or even protesting. Then one of the Judges asked the question that was perhaps the most important one of the entire hearing.

“Mister Renner,” Judge Yukio Imada of Japan began, the woman exhibiting that almost ageless beauty that oriental women often possessed, her physical age making her look like she was twenty five, but could have been as old as fifty. “What would you call yourself now?”

The blend of savanna cat and man stood after several silent moments and looked at the Judges, his feline eyes with their almost preternaturally bright yellow and brown flecked irises narrowed so that the vertical slit was clearly visible while his tail flicked to the side almost conspicuously. “I am still part human, but I am more. I am equal to a human in intelligence. I am aware, able to make decisions and choices. I have feelings…emotions. I have hopes and dreams. I love, I fear.”

Wyatt straightened even more, his posture almost prideful.

“As the one that has befriended us has called us, I am a Fur, or furman.” He smiled, the expression very much human-like, though no human alive ever had the fangs that shown whitely against his thin, dark skinned lips. “I am Furmankind.”

— NEXT CHAPTER —

Unless otherwise noted, all material © Ted R. Blasingame. All rights reserved.