In answer to both questions, Riska lifts his foot twice.
“Do you have orange fur?”
The paw stays down.
“Incredible.” He gazes at Riska. “His cognitive enhancers worked.” He sets the towel aside. “Come on, buddy, let me take some blood samples. Let me see what else he’s been pumping into you.” He reaches into a drawer and pulls out a needle.
At the sight of the needle, Riska’s fur fluffs out. He rears up onto his hind legs, hissing and unsheathing his claws. The doctor freezes. He looks from Riska to the needle, frowning.
“You’ve got to let me do this, buddy. It’s my best chance of protecting you.”
Riska’s heart pounds. Does this human really want to help him? Can he protect him from Dr. Nguyen and Miss Winn? He drops back to all fours but keeps his claws out.
“I won’t hurt you, buddy. Please, let me help you.”
Riska hesitates a moment longer, then retracts his claws. He keeps his wings poised, just in case.
The man reaches out with his empty hand and touches Riska’s head. He scratches him between the ears. Riska lays his ears flat, tensing. He relaxes after a moment as the human continues to scratch him. No one has ever done anything like this before. He’s surprised to find a contented purr rising from his throat.
The doctor smiles and steps in closer, this time raising the needle. Riska freezes as the doctor draws several vials of blood. Samples are put into two different machines.
“There. We’ll see results before morning. I’ll do what I can to protect you. Come on. Let’s finish cleaning your wounds. We don’t want any infections to set it.”
The doctor opens a drawer, searching through it. He mutters and moves to another one. After rummaging through three more drawers and two cupboards, he produces a wad of gauze and some disinfectant.
Riska’s paws are cleaned. When he’s finished, the man strokes his back. Riska purrs, feeling safe for the first time in his life.
“Are you feeling better, buddy?” says the man.
“Mrow.” Riska raises a foot.
“Good. My name is Dr. Hom. Oh, and one more thing.” He runs a hand through his black hair, raising dozens of little spikes on the left side of his head. “Don’t let on that you understand as much as you do. Let’s keep that between us.”
Riska rubs his head against Dr. Hom’s hand and rumbles. He is more than happy to keep secrets from Dr. Nguyen and Miss Winn.
***
“The blood analyses show large traces of cognitive enhancers and neurobehavioral drugs,” Dr. Hom says.
“Of course they do!” Dr. Nguyen, standing on the other side of the counter, spits out the words. “They are responsible for his intelligence. They—”
His words are lost in a long hiss from Riska, who crouches on Dr. Hom’s shoulder. He quiets as the nice doctor strokes his fur.
“They’re the reason the Risk Alleviator attacked the soldiers,” Dr. Hom says.
“Explain,” says a third voice.
Riska directs his hiss at Miss Winn, who is unmoving in her wheelchair. The screen on her chair rotates in his direction, the woman there narrowing her eyes at him.
“You modified my Aircat DNA when you made Riska,” Dr. Hom says. “Aircats are genetically designed to be susceptible to influence; it’s how the neural nets work. Imagine the Aircat brain to be like that of a human teenager’s: immature and impressionable. The neurobehavioral drugs amplified those characteristics in Riska and made him unpredictable and erratic. That’s why he attacked those soldiers. The combination of the videos and drugs made him unstable. It was only natural for him to lash out.”
The screen swivels to face Dr. Nguyen. “Is this true?”
“Dr. Hom is postulating. We don’t know what triggered yesterday’s outburst. The cognitive enhancers were working. The Risk Alleviator is showing elevated intelligence. He was able to learn from the videos—”
“He wasn’t learning the right things,” Dr. Hom says. “I told you Aircat DNA is delicate. I tried to warn you. I came to your lab—”
“You weren’t trying to help me,” Dr. Nguyen snarls. “You were trying to get into my lab to steal my research. You—”
“Enough,” Miss Winn says. Both men fall silent.
“What I want to know from Dr. Hom is whether or not he thinks this project can be salvaged,” she says. “Your prognosis, Doctor?”
“I believe the animal can be guided in the direction of a true Risk Alleviator, although not in the way Dr. Nguyen envisions.”
“There you go, always trying to undermine me. You—”
Miss Winn cuts him off. “Details, Dr. Hom,” she barks.
“Dr. Nguyen envisions herds of Riskas patrolling corporate compounds and homes of the wealthy. A high-end security defense system. Better than any watch dog. Based on what happened yesterday, we can agree the Risk Alleviator has mastered his defense skills. What he lacks is direction. He knows how to defend, but he doesn’t know who to defend.”
“Of course he does,” Dr. Nguyen cut in. “The videos—”
“The videos showed him how to fight. There was nothing personal in the training to help him internalize the difference between good and bad. Something different is required to help him learn who needs protecting.”
“How do you suggest this be done?” Miss Winn asks.
“My imprinting serum will enable him to identify his charges and their enemies. It shouldn’t have any negative reactions with the altered brain chemistry of an Aircat. With the imprinting serum, I can teach Riska to protect a particular person or a small group of people, like a family. He will provide localized protection for wealthy customers. Each Risk Alleviator will be customized for an owner.”
“We’ll need a family for a beta testing,” Miss Winn says. “I could put out a call to local Global families. Offer a stipend for incentive.”
“That won’t be necessary,” says Dr. Hom. “I will volunteer my family.”
Silence. Dr. Nguyen and Miss Winn study Dr. Hom. Riska hisses at nothing in particular so no one will guess how much he understands.
“Dr. Hom.” Miss Winn clears her throat. “That little fur ball took down nearly a dozen full-grown soldiers. Are you truly proposing to take him into your home?”
“I wouldn’t volunteer if I wasn’t confident in my work.”
“Out of the question. Your daughter is too valuable.”
“Which is exactly the reason why she could use the protection of a Risk Alleviator. Let me salvage this project. I’m confident it can be done.”
“This is outrageous,” Dr. Nguyen says. “You can’t be serious—”
“Three months,” Miss Winn interrupts, her screen facing Dr. Hom. “You have three months to show me your serum works. I will be monitoring your progress. If there are any more incidents, I will terminate the project immediately.”
“Yes, Miss Winn.”
“If you can prove he is safe in the allotted three months, you may take him to your family for a long-term study. If I’m not convinced, he will be destroyed.”
“Miss Winn!” Dr. Nguyen cries, his cheeks turning red. “I—!”
“Consider yourself fortunate that I’m not docking your salary for the next decade. Luckily for you, yesterday’s outburst is covered by insurance.” With that, Miss Winn rolls away, the double doors closing behind her.
“You actually think you can steal this project from me?” Dr. Nguyen says when she’s gone. He glares at Dr. Hom.
“This has nothing to do with you, Michael.”
“You’re right. It’s about you. It’s always about you. The great Eugene Hom to the rescue. I’m not going to stand by and watch you take credit for my work.”
“Michael—” Dr. Hom begins, but the other man stalks out without another word.
Riska purrs as soon as he’s gone. Dr. Hom scratches him between the ears.
“That went relatively well, considering the circumstances,” he says. “All right, buddy.
Let’s show them you’re worth saving.”
12: Training
Dr. Hom brings a box into the room. It’s not like Dr. Nguyen’s box. It’s big and spacious and made of clear plastic. There is no lid. Inside is a mound of soft black fabric. Taped all around the interior of the box are pictures of a young human female. She has dark hair and dark eyes.
The doctor stacks a pile of books on the floor to make room on the counter for the box. He places Riska next to the box, who leans forward to sniff the edges.
“Stand still for me, buddy,” Dr. Hom says. He produces a needle filled with milky white fluid.
Riska immediately tenses, laying his ears flat and growling. Dr. Hom pauses to pet him.
“Shh,” he says. “It’s okay. This is my imprinting serum. It will protect you from Dr. Nguyen, but you have to let me inject you.”
Riska lashes his tail. With an effort, he stops growling. His ears remain flat as Dr. Hom makes the injection in the back of his neck. The doctor is gentle, and Riska barely feels the needle.
“Good boy,” he says, withdrawing the syringe. “Let’s try out your new bed.”
He scoops up Riska and places him inside the box. Riska turns in a circle, marveling at the soft fabric. It is saturated with a strange new scent. He inhales, smelling determination and fight. A purr rumbles up from his throat.
“See this girl?” The man taps the picture. “You are going to keep her safe. Her name is Sulan.”
Riska, staring at the picture, continues to purr.
***
He spends days and days inside the box.
He loves it. He rubs his face, head, and neck against Sulan’s picture. He rolls in the black fabric, coating his fur with the smell. Sometimes he watches Dr. Hom work, sometimes he gets out to fly around, but mostly he just enjoys being in the box. The more he sits there, the happier he is.
Once a day, Dr. Hom injects the milky white fluid into Riska’s neck. The nice doctor rarely leaves the room. He has a cot in one corner piled with extra white jackets, blankets, books, and papers. Every night, he pushes the pile onto the floor, digs out his blanket, and goes to sleep. In the morning, he stacks everything back onto the cot.
People bring him food to eat and drink. Dr. Hom lets Riska eat from his plate. He talks to Riska a lot. He tells Riska how special Sulan is, how important she is.
“She must be protected at all costs,” Dr. Hom says. “No matter what. That is your job, Riska. That’s what you’re made for.”
***
“Here it is!” says Dr. Hom, his voice muffled. He’s on his knees, head and shoulders inside a cabinet. As he backs out, a box of rubber stoppers spills across the floor. He nudges them aside with his foot, oblivious to the mess.
“Found it.” He grins at Riska, holding up a tangle of wires and plastic. “Did you learn about Vex in Dr. Nguyen’s training?”
“Mrow.” Riska lifts his right paw.
“Good.” He leans against the counter next to Riska, pulling at the mess of wires.
Riska rests his chin on the box, studying the object. As Dr. Hom untangles the wires, it starts to take shape. It looks similar to the thing Miss Winn wears on her head.
“Here we go.” Dr. Hom holds up the object. “This is a Vex set designed for animals. I’m going to adjust it now . . .”
Riska flattens his ears as the contraption is placed on him. He whines. Dr. Hom pats him on the back and adjusts the wires. It tightens on his head. The doctor mutters to himself and pulls it off. Riska shakes his head, flicking his ears back and forth.
“Dr. Nguyen did a good job showing you how to fight,” Dr. Hom says, adjusting the headset. “But we can’t very well throw you into a room with real soldiers to practice, so you’re going to practice in Vex. We’ll record your sessions for Miss Winn.”
He hooks an ankle around a stool and pulls it over. Sitting in front of Riska, he again fits the headset over his ears.
“This might be a bit strange at first. Just remember it’s for training. Nothing you encounter is real. It’s going to help you take care of Sulan. Remember that, and you’ll be fine.”
With that, he flips down the goggles.
At first, all Riska sees is the dark interior of the goggles. A moment later, he is pulled into a swirl of blue.
***
He’s in a dark room. There are no lights, just two hazy windows that let in thin streams of gray. Beside him is a human girl with dark hair and dark eyes. She is dressed all in black. She stands still, staring across the room at an open door. Beyond the doorway is a dingy hall.
It’s Sulan. He recognizes her from the pictures. The sight of her makes him happy. His wings fan open.
Dr. Hom’s words go through his mind. Nothing you encounter is real.
He edges close to Sulan and sniffs her leg. There is no smell. He presses one paw against her boot. Though he sees his foot touch her, there is no physical feeling.
His wings droop in disappointment. She is not real.
Without warning, Sulan screams. She sprints for the open doorway and disappears from sight. Her fear raises the fur along his spine. He leaps up, flying after her.
She races down the dim hallway. Coming after her are five soldiers. They look similar to the bad soldiers he saw in Dr. Nguyen’s movies, except that these men and women are dressed in dark blue instead of green. Knitted masks in matching blue hide their faces. All he can see are their eyes and mouths.
He hovers in mid-air between the advancing soldiers and a fleeing Sulan. One of the soldiers raises a rifle and takes aim.
Fear for Sulan leaps inside Riska. He streaks straight at the soldiers.
He collides with the first of the men, ripping into the kneecaps with his major claws. The soldier goes down, falling on top of him. Riska lets out a squeal as he’s crushed.
The rest of the soldiers thunder past. The wounded man groans. Riska, still trapped, slashes wildly with his claws. They part flesh. Blood soaks Riska’s fur. The soldier screams and writhes. Riska wriggles free and speeds away.
Sulan is nowhere in sight and he can’t smell her in Vex. The only way to track her is to follow the noise made by the soldiers.
As he zips down the hall, a gun goes off. A bullet whizzes past him and pierces the ceiling above his head. Riska drops low. He glances over his shoulder and sees the wounded man aiming an OS-15. Just as another bullet hits the wall in front of him, he takes a hard left down an adjoining hall.
There are stairs before him. They lead down into darkness. He can hear the soldiers, their boots making crunching noises as they move. If they’re down there, that means Sulan is down there.
Riska glides toward the stairwell, then folds his wings and drops to the ground. The passageway is too narrow for him to fly, so he continues on foot. The dark swallows him. He makes out faint shapes ahead of him, smudges of gray against the black. He lifts his tail, readying the sleeping gas.
Then one of the soldiers turns. Riska pauses, waiting for the man to turn away.
But the man doesn’t look away. Instead, he reaches for his gun.
Can he see Riska? Humans don’t see well in the dark. Riska knows this from the movies Dr. Nguyen made him watch. But the man is looking straight at him. He tugs on the sleeve of a fellow soldier.
“Right there,” he whispers, pointing at Riska. “See its eyes?”
Riska suddenly understands. He slams his eyes shut and swerves. A gun is fired. There is no pain, but the bullet grazes his leg and slows him down.
He yowls in frustration. His eyes fly open as he struggles to stand. His leg wobbles weakly.
Using the last of his strength, he charges straight at the cluster of men. He won’t survive, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is protecting Sulan.
Lifting his tail, he launches himself into their midst and releases a burst of sleeping gas. More gunfire.
The soldiers and dingy stairwell disappear, replaced by swirling blue.
***
“Shh, sh
h.”
The headset is removed from Riska. He is curled in a ball inside his box, shaking.
“You’re okay, buddy. That’s a good boy.”
He blinks as Dr. Hom’s voice reaches him. The photos of Sulan stare down at him. He flattens his ears, feeling ashamed. He failed Sulan. He did not protect her.
“Don’t worry, buddy. You did well,” Dr. Hom says. “Very well. You disabled them before they got her.” He scoops Riska out of the box, cradling him and stroking his head. “I never considered your eyes to be a hindrance. I have an idea of how to fix that. You’re going to need to be able to maneuver narrow passageways, too. We’ll get to work on some enhancements for you. I’m going to make sure you’re equipped to handle anything that comes your way.”
Riska relaxes, muscles sagging. He purrs, rubbing his head against Dr. Hom’s chest.
The doctor will help him. The doctor will make sure he can protect Sulan.
***
Days pass. Sometimes he goes into Vex to practice protecting Sulan. Sometimes he sleeps so Dr. Hom can make enhancements to his body.
Whenever Riska fails to keep Sulan safe in Vex, Dr. Hom modifies him to help him do a better job. Sometimes the enhancements hurt, but Riska doesn’t mind. It’s all to make sure he can take care of Sulan.
13: Perfectly Safe
Riska awakes to a soft hum. He peeks over the edge of his box as Miss Winn rolls into the room. The sweet, cloying smell enters with her, lifting the fur along his spine.
“It’s been ninety days,” she says, rolling up to the counter where Riska sits. Her screen extends to look at him. “Your work with the Risk Alleviator is excellent.”
“Thank you,” Dr. Hom says. “I believe he is ready for field testing. I would like permission to take him home for an official trial.”
“You still intend to give him to your daughter?”
“With your permission, Miss Winn. Riska is perfectly safe.” He looks at Riska and smiles. “Come here, buddy.”
Risk Alleviator Page 4