Dependent Days

by Chris Sapp

  “What’s wrong?” Jedrek asked when she didn’t start to play.

  “I’m idiot. In addition to playing this song with a coin, Phaelan also tuned his guitar with an open G chord,” she said as she began to tune the guitar. Once that was done, she took a brief moment to think about anything else she might have forgotten. Confident that she was finally ready, she got a good grip on both the guitar and the coin and she began to play. Thankfully the intro to Guts over Glory was slow and fairly easily. Her fingers felt stiff and she didn’t know if it was from the freezing temperature less than half an inch from her skin or if it was from the lack of use. She honestly couldn’t remember how long it had been since she played. Before her father’s faked suicide she played every day. But that seemed like a lifetime ago. The song started to pick up and she hoped her fingers were ready. She closed her eyes and begin to sing along, not only to help herself keep track of where she was in the song but also as a distraction. A distraction against Jedrek, who was watching her play. A distraction from where she was and the whole reason she was playing. She knew that the best way to pass this audition was to pretend that it was just like any another audition. Which meant that all she had to do was relax and play. So, she did. She was barely aware of the speed and dexterity of her fingers as they flew up and down the guitar. She sang the chorus loud and meaningful as if she were performing on Spanky’s stage in front of a hundred people instead of standing inside an icebox with a Frostfang. There was a guitar solo about halfway through the song and when she got to that part, she wasn’t nervous or scared. She went right into it. Not with just her fingers, but her whole body was performing the song now. Her knees were bent and her head cocked back. She held the neck of the guitar up high by her face. The solo ended and she went back to singing and playing. Her lower back and fingers were starting to ache by the time she reached the last stretch. But she did her best to ignore the pain and keep playing. After striking the last chord Izabel released the guitar and let it hang by the strap. But she kept her eyes shut. She didn’t want to open them until she heard the unit doors unsealing. She started to panic when she didn’t hear anything but then she heard her father’s voice.

  “Well done, Izabel,” her father praised. She opened her eyes and the sight of his smiling face on the vidscreen brought tears to her eyes.

  “I know it’s you,” Phaelan continued. “Because by design, only my daughter could open this unit. Plus, I’ve instructed Jedrek to kill anyone that tried to open it that wasn’t you.”

  Izabel shot a glance at Jedrek. The wolf returned a wink.

  “Now, if you’re watching this without me then that means that despite my best efforts…I’m probably dead. I’m sorry Izabel. I’m sorry we weren’t reunited. If that had been my only goal then success would most assuredly be mine. As difficult as it may be for you to hear, I had another goal…a more important goal. It was the pursuit of this goal that most likely got me killed. If you’re here on Arktikus than that means that you’ve learned about the Harbinger-vid and once you watch it, I think you’ll understand why I did the things that I did. Because the events depicted on this disc reveal a shocking truth, a truth I believe that the Morphagen Order has been hiding for hundreds of years. I tried to reveal this truth to the galaxy but I failed…but I believe that you will succeed where I didn’t.”

  The sound of the doors unsealing and irising open, forced Izabel to break eye contact with the image of her deceased father. She reached up to wipe away her tears and was impeded by the glass visor on her helmet. The inside of the unit was filled over twenty-five years of The Phaes memorabilia and merchandise. She saw tee shirts, bath towels, ball caps, playing cards, posters. Anything and everything that The Phaes could be printed on and sold was in the storage unit.

  “You’ll find what you’re looking on the guitar wall. It’s in the belly of the third guitar from the right,” Phaelan instructed. Izabel entered the unit and found her way to the guitar wall. It was a wall decorated with guitars. Each one was hand crafted. Izabel found the third guitar from the right and gently took it down from the wall. It had a hand painted mural of Phaelan and Phaedra on it. The artist had really captured their likeness.

  “How are you supposed to get it out?” Jedrek asked.

  Izabel smiled at him through her visor and then she lifted the guitar above her head with both hands and smashed the instrument on the floor, repeatedly. Strings popped and plastic cracked. Izabel tossed the now trashed guitar aside and retrieved a small steel briefcase from the ruin. There was a leather recliner that used in the music video of the song Throne. Izabel sat in it and opened the case. Inside was the oldest datapad Izabel had ever seen. The design was square and clunky compared to the slim and sleek cases of the current models. With fingers shaking so violently they would register on a richter scale, Izabel pressed play on the datapad.

  TWO CREATURES OF the like Izabel had never seen came into view. They both appeared to be male. One was tall with broad shoulders, a thick neck, and smoking a brown cigarette like thingy. He also had a green jacket with lots of shiny squared shaped buttons covering one side of his chest. The other creature was short and pudgy and he wore a white lab coat. Both creatures had two arms and two legs just like her, but they were no elves. They didn’t look like any two-legger species that she had ever seen. In fact, from the waist up they looked more like Centaurs or even Merfolk. But neither one’s facial features weren’t quite right for those either.

  “Hello, I’m doctor Philip Harbinger,” said the short fat one, “and this is General Warren Pax.” Well, at least she could understand what these strange dudes were saying. They were standing in front of nine well-lit chambers enclosed behind plate glass. Inside each chamber was an operating table and strapped to each table was a test subject; four males and five females. Each one was naked, physically fit, and had a roman numeral tattooed on their right shoulder. The nine test subjects appeared to be the same species as Harbinger and the General.

  “Today, I’m going to be administering the galaxy’s first morphagen tests on these human subjects behind us,” Harbinger explained.

  Wait! What did Harbinger called them? Human? Is what these weird looking creatures were called, thought Izabel.

  “In an effort to minimize emotional attachment the patients have been assigned a roman numeral,” said Harbinger.

  "To hell with names. What's three's phone number? Those tits are outstanding,” said General Pax, laughing heartily at his own joke.

  "Did you hear me?” Pax elbowed Harbinger, “I said three's tits are outstanding!”

  "They better be,” responded Harbinger. “She was Miss July."

  The General laughed and then he took another pull on his brown cigarette thingy.

  "As you were, Doc,” said General Pax.

  Harbinger nodded, wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve, and typed a sequence into the control pad he held in his hands. Izabel watched as nine robotic arms extended from the ceiling down to each patient. A syringe was attached to the end of each arm like the stinger of some giant insect.

  "What's happening General, is that each patient is being injected with a different type of morphagen,” Harbinger explained. Izabel watched as Patient III, who’s skin was naturally tan, lost ninety percent of its pigmentation. Then her limbs were stripped of any excess fat and her curvaceous buttocks was reduced to thin slabs of muscle. Her hips shrank towards each other, taking her from a size 6 to a size 2. Her breasts went from an overfilling C cup to a healthy B. Her ears tilted backwards and the tips grew into points. Her fingers and toes elongated to inhumanly proportions. Her nose became angular instead of round.

  “Oh my God,” gasped Izabel. She gripped the datapad with both hands.

  Patients I and II had opposite reactions to the drug coursing through their veins. I's entire body began to shrink while patient II's began to grow. Black hair sprouted all over patient IV's body and his eyes went from a hazel color to a blazing yellow. Patient V glar
ed at them with dilated eyes and then snarled, revealing her enlarged incisors. Patients VI and VII transformations were similar in that most of their changes occurred below their waists. VI's legs merged into one fleshy clump and then began to grow shiny emerald scales. VII's buttocks grew a long black tail made of thin wiry hair and then shot backwards about five from his body, elongating his spine. Then a second set of legs developed below the new placement of his buttocks. He looked down, mesmerized, as all four of his feet morphed into hooves. Patient VIII's skin turned tough and green and her muscles began to swell. Two powerful tusks emerged on either side of her nose, which had elongated into a snout. Two bull-like horns protruded out of patient IX's skull and black fur covered his body. His eyes became vibrant blue orbs.

  "Outstanding, Gentlemen. Fucking Outstanding,” said General Pax once all of the transformations were complete.

  Izabel was speechless. Each of the humans had transformed into nine easily recognizable creatures. Patient I had shrunk into a six-inch tall Faery. They even got the wings right. Patient II had grown into a twenty-five foot tall Giant. Patient III was much more attractive now that she was an Elf. Patients IV and V were now two of the most recognizable creatures in the whole galaxy, a werewolf and a Vampyr, respectively.

  "VI turned out. Good call on the hair,” marveled Pax.

  Harbinger nodded. Patient VI had morphed into a stunning mermaid and her green hair was the precise compliment to her emerald scales. Patient VII pawed at the floor with his hooves, as if demanding attention. His human-like upper torso and horse body made him a perfectly proportionate Centaur. Patient VIII was now a nine foot tall green Ogress. Patient IX's hairy hands, hoofed feet, and bullhead made him a Minotaur that could have easily been born on Fahrenheit. The screen went black and Izabel blew out the breath she’d been holding.

  “Oh my God,” she exhaled. It was incredible. Had she really just witnessed the invention of morphagens? If that was true, then did that mean that everyone in the galaxy has once been human? There was so many questions spinning around inside her head that it was making her dizzy. The screen came back to life and Izabel put all of her questions on hold and leaned forward in the recliner.

  Dr. Harbinger and General Pax were once again standing in front of the nine chambers.

  “Hello again,” greeted Harbinger. “Okay, what you’re going to witness today is the detoxing of patients I through IV.” The camera shifted to the nine chambers but only the first four were lit. “Now each of the patients have been in detox for approximately eighteen hours,” explained Harbinger and they looked like they had endured every second of that eighteen hours. The Faery had already lost one of her wings and was lying limply on the chamber floor. Her right leg was broken and her breathing was very shallow. Izabel was reminded of the Faery she attempted to save on San Andreas. The Giant that had once stood an incredible twenty-five feet tall was now hunchbacked and barely twelve feet tall and Patient III who had morphed into a beautiful Elf was curled up on the floor in the fetal position. Her skin was gray and sickly looking.

  “Damn III looks like shit, Doc,” remarked General Pax, “I’d rather put my dick in a blender than put it anywhere near that shit.”

  Chamber IV was covered from one end to the other in thick black fur. The werewolf, who was now half bald, sat scratching at his raw skin. One by one, the four patients began to suffer from seizures. Their heads and limbs hammered the floors and walls of their chambers. The Giant had been standing near the front of the chamber and his blood and spittle spattered the plate glass.

  “Jesus Christ, Harbinger,” exclaimed Pax. “What the hell is happening?”

  “I’m not certain, but I believe the patient’s bodies are attempting to revert back to their original form,” Harbinger answered. The flesh of all of the patients began to ripple like it was made of water and large boils sprouted on their torsos and limbs. These boils grew until they burst, squirting yellow pus into the air. It was so disgusted and horrifying Izabel had to resist the urge to push the fast-forward button. She knew what happened during detox. Hell, everyone did. But she didn’t want to miss anything so she continued to watch as each of the patients screamed in agony as their bodies morphed into fleshy detox cocoons. Each one pulsed with life and dripped with pus.

  “Jesus! They’re like fucking caterpillars,” mused General Pax. Then the screen went black but only for a moment and then another video log began. Once again, the good doctor and the crude General were standing in front of the chambers. Izabel noticed that Harbinger looked more frazzled than he had in the previous videos.

  “Good afternoon,” said Harbinger as he cleaned his glasses with his shirttail. “As you can see Patients I through IV are still encased in their…uh—

  “Detox cocoons,” suggested General Pax.

  “Yes, thank you General. I suppose that is an accurate description of the patients current state. It’s been three days since our last recording and the patients are still in their detox cocoons.” The camera shifted from the two men to the four chambers, where four flesh colored cocoons lay. A puddle of pus had pooled on the floor beneath each one.

  “But what we don’t know, is if the patients are still alive,” Harbinger said. “For instance patient I’s cocoon is no longer pulsing, which seems to suggest that maybe she has stopped breathing.” The camera zoomed in on the cocoon occupying the first chamber and Izabel saw that Harbinger was right. There was no pulsing or movement of any kind coming from the cocoon.

  “So, today,” continued Harbinger, wringing his hands nervously, “we’re going to cut the cocoons open and see…uh…well—

  “See, what kind of fubar we’re dealing with,” finished the General.

  “Yes, thank you again General.”

  Izabel watched as the robotic arms from the first video extended from the ceiling towards the four cocoons. Only this time, there was a laser attached to the end of the arm instead of a syringe. The metal arms stopped about a foot away from each cocoon and then a red laser beam shot out of the laser. The robotic arms moved on a horizontal axis, allowing the laser to cut the cocoons open lengthways. Smoke billowed into the air and bright red blood sizzled down the sides of each cocoon.

  “Makes you hungry for a baked potato doesn’t it,” joked General Pax. Once all of the cocoons had been cut open, the arms retracted and Izabel leaned in closer to the screen as if that could somehow grant her a better view. Patient I was definitely a goner. Her torso, both arms, and one leg had returned to their original form…sorta. But, her other leg and her head had remained Faery sized. Her mouth hung open and her eyes, which were glazed over in death, stared out at nothing. It wasn’t uncommon for some folks to die during detox.

  “They’re moving! They’re alive,” exclaimed Harbinger. The good doctor was right. One by one the remaining three patients began to emerge from their smoking cocoons. Izabel gasped when she saw the condition of the three patients’ bodies. Each one was hairless and horribly disfigured from head to toe. The Giant has sprouted two heads from one thick neck. The Werwolf had three legs and three arms. The Elf’s ears that had once been long and elegant were now crumbled wads of flesh protruding from the sides of her head. These creatures were just as familiar to Izabel as their drug induced state had been. Each of the remaining patients now resembled slaves and that could easily be sold on Terra Gigas.

  “I take back what I said about caterpillars. Cuz, those bastards ain’t nothing like butterflies,” said General Pax. The screen went dark and silent for a third time.

  There was no doubt in Izabel’s mind now. What she had witnessed was the invention of morphagens. The effects of using the drugs were the same and so were the effects of detoxing. The datapad’s screen came back to life and despite the horrors she had just seen she was eager and ready for more.

  Harbinger was standing in front of the chambers. No, surprise there. But what did surprise Izabel, was that Harbinger was alone. There was no sign of General Warren Pax. Izabel noted
that Harbinger’s appearance was worse now than it had been before. His shirt was completely untucked. His lab coat was stained and wrinkled. His hair and face badly needed to be reintroduced to a comb and a razor.

  “Good morning,” greeted Harbinger, “it has been three days since our last recording and during the time that has elapsed I have detoxed Patients V through IX. But, as you can see, this time I have elected to leave the detox cocoons alone and not cut them open. This time I will wait…and see what happens.” The camera shifted to the chambers where five pulsating cocoons were lying in their respective chambers.

  “Yes…we will wait,” Harbinger said very softly and then the screen went dark. But the darkness only lasted a few seconds because then the screen came back on. The camera was shaky as if someone was in the process of setting it up.

  “Quick! Something is happening!” someone exclaimed.

  The camera became steady and it showed a familiar shot, the five chambers from the previous video. But what wasn’t familiar was the way some of the cocoons appeared to be rocking from side to side. Some rocked fast and some rocked slow. While others weren’t rocking at all.

  “Where’s Dr. Harbinger?” yelled someone else.

  “I’m here! I’m here,” shouted Harbinger from somewhere off-screen. Several seconds later he appeared, hunched over and very out of breath.

  “Hello,” he said to the camera. “Oh, my goodness. This is so exciting.” He ran a hand through his thinning hair. “Okay, it’s been another three days since our last recording. So, that’s six days that we’ve been waiting for something to happen and-Oh, look at that! That’s magnificent!”

  The rocking motion of Patient VI’s cocoon became so violent that it actually rolled 360 degrees to the right.

  “Oh, and there’s another one,” said Harbinger as Patient VIII’s cocoon performed its own roll. Within moments all five of the detox cocoons were rolling back and forth across their respective chambers. Some were even rolling hard enough to slam into walls.