by A. J. Ponder
Fortunately a lab-coat hides a multitude of fashion faux pas, but I would appreciate it if next time you could find a more stylish mail order site than “Minions ‘R’ Us.” Maybe it is because I am so short, but I find jumpsuits and bomb-proof overcoats lack a certain je ne sais quoi.
Sincerely,
Lilliana Lionheart
§
Annoyed, Lilly reached for her diary. How much longer could she live like this?
§
Dear Diary,
No surprise the suits from Minions ‘R’ Us were hardly flattering. There has to be some way to get some decent clothes around here. Pity I don’t have time to chase it up, when we’re so busy in the lab.
Still, I have to keep reminding myself we are making great progress. Coding the dreadbeast from scratch would flummox a small army of first-rate technicians. And it doesn’t help that a very expensive AW was destroyed by Dr Deathless. I do hope it’s going to be replaced. And soon.
Nevertheless I have done my best. I have worked until I was falling asleep on my feet, with nightmares of spiders picking people up in their jaws, poisoning them, wrapping them up in DNA, and draining out every last bit of blood, until the spiders grew as big as horses – and just as unpleasant.
Of course, in reality I can only live in hope that our creatures will be that terrifying. for now, the biggest real-life nightmare is trying to partner spider and mammalian physiology. It’s almost insurmountable – their blood is incompatible, their breathing is wrong, and their internal organs are completely different. On top of those difficulties, hundreds of minor, but delicate design modifications need to be made. For example the exoskeleton of a dreadbeast couldn’t be the same as a spider’s, or the sheer weight of the casing would crush the creature.
I guess we’ll have to figure a way to design the chitin so it’s a bit like avian bone, with a honeycomb of cavities. Structurally it’s important to get that right first so the weight of the exoskeleton doesn’t compromise strength. Even so, half of the advantage of making a dreadbeast is its armour.
I know every university professor I’ve ever met would say it’s impossible. And yet, with my amazing little team it just might work.
After all, the snake-hybrid embryo is still growing. And it’s growing fast. That’s proof, surely, that we know what we’re doing. The equipment is functioning optimally. So, maybe it will take a little longer than some of us might hope, but success will happen, and soon. I know it. And I can’t wait.
§
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Where are my dreadbeasts?
Please tell LL and her lab that I am not a patient man. Make it very clear her lab is knot to waste my property on unsanctioned experiments.
Your Boss and Overlord
Mr Big
•12•
Twice Shy
LILLY’S OBSESSION WITH WORK might have started out of spite toward Dr Deathless, but she soon became so engrossed, she found it difficult to think of anything else – and, if anything, Squidge was worse.
“It’s all Dr Deathless’ fault,” Brian complained when he had to carry Squidge’s meals to the lab for the second day in a row. “Couldn’t you just have one meal in the cafeteria?”
“This way is better,” Squidge said. “I like staying behind to protect the lab because I can focus on something important, instead of having to put up with lame dinner conversation.”
“You don’t mean us, do you?” asked Missy.
“Of course I—”
“Of course he doesn’t,” Lilly interrupted, before Squidge could say anything incriminating.
“Actually—”
“He meant some of the others, naturally.” Lilly glared at Squidge, who as usual, failed to notice.
“I do not—”
“Come on, Missy,” Lilly said, jumping up from her stool. “We’ll go get some lunch, and Brian can stay here for a change.”
It wasn’t what Lilly wanted to do. She wanted to stick around and get the last niggly bit on chromosome six folding properly. But Brian wouldn’t much like staying behind, and that was the point.
Almost every moment at lunch Lilly felt like running back to the lab, not just for her own work, but to see if Squidge was making a vital breakthrough. Even Missy babbled away about the embryo, and the research, and how exciting it all was.
“Why do you always wander around so much?” Missy asked on the way back from lunch, when Lilly made a half-step toward one of her detours.
“I need the exercise,” Lilly said, improvising. She’d been here for over two weeks, too long for anyone to believe she could get lost. “But I guess we have better things to do.”
“Come on,” Missy urged. “Let’s go this way, it’s quicker and I’m tired of carrying this tray. Besides, don’t you want to see if Squidge has a new picture of the dreadbeast?”
“Sorry?” Lilly was distracted by two guards striding down her long cut. Were they heading to the room with the electrified floor? Or maybe to a different exit? There must be one. Besides, even if the thugs were about to do nothing more than bully someone – that would still be interesting to know.
“Lilly? Come on, let’s get back to the lab,” Missy repeated.
“You go back without me,” Lilly suggested. She turned and began to follow the guards.
Missy hurried after her, and pulled on her sleeve. “I don’t like to. Please come back with me. I know all the people here are volunteering for the animals, and it’s a good cause, but some of them are scary.”
“O-kay.” Lilly took the tray from Missy, and before she knew it, she was hurrying back to the lab. She wanted to see where Squidge was up to with the new prototype, and, more importantly, if the snake-hybrid was moving in some new way. It had been doing so well, yawning and stretching its cute little limbs.
She couldn’t help it, the creature was adorable. It had to survive. And if it did – would it be everything she hoped for?
Lilly was so pre-occupied she almost ran into Pinhead and Basher.
“Watch it, lab-rats,” Basher said, punching his palm with his fist as he walked by. “I heard you guys have been given the hard word. Wouldn’t want you to run into any more trouble.”
Lilly and Missy turned to each other. They didn’t need to say anything, but in that moment, Lilly knew Missy was as ready to protect her, as she was to protect Missy. The bullies moved on and the two girls beat a hasty retreat back to the lab. As they drew closer, loud chittering, squawking, and screeching could be heard from the creatures inside. Lilly broke into a half-run.
A lion in the menagerie roared as if to say, keep the noise down. And roared again.
Hand on the door handle Lilly hesitated. Something was terribly wrong.
She took a deep breath, and flung the door open. Inside, the lab was the worse for wear. There were several broken stools, broken glassware – nothing too expensive, thank goodness. But she hardly needed a degree in calculus to realise there was going to be nothing left if this bullying continued much longer.
Squidge, sporting a freshly blackened eye, gingerly picked himself up off his stool. “Miss Lionheart, Missy. I have some bad news.”
“Squidge! What leprotic larceny happened here?” Lilly asked. “Are you okay? Don’t tell me it was that Deathless goon again.”
“I am fine, but no, it was not Deathless.” Squidge held his head as if he was worried it might fall off.
“It was Mr Big’s men. Did you not see them? They were just here. They said we have to hatch the hybrid now.”
“What? No!” Lilly ran over to the artificial womb. It was perfectly intact. “But Squidge, it’s not ready to be born yet. It’s probably weeks premature.”
“The lungs seem mature enough,” he said without looking up. “But it is hard to tell, the gestation has been very short.”
“Far too short!” Lilly said. “You can’t be serious?”
Squidge loo
ked up with the lost expression of someone who doesn’t understand why evil exists, or how to cope. “They said, if we do not get it out of his AW today, Mr Big will feed it to Annie. And he will be coming around later to make sure.”
Lilly grimaced. “I’ll jack up an incubator.”
Squidge, his usual cheerful optimism stifled, began pacing the lab up and down, up and down … not really focussed on anything, not even talking to himself.
Brian appeared from the office, a bandage wrapped around his hand. He seemed almost as dazed as the rest of them. “It can’t be ready, can it? How can it be ready?” he kept muttering as he helped Lilly and Missy set up emergency equipment.
Lilly didn’t blame him. She was asking herself the same questions as she grabbed some clean linen for the “birth.” This creature she’d helped design had to work – only it couldn’t – it was impossible. Damn, she’d been so careful. She crossed her fingers, and wondered at the rush of emotion. When had she let her hopes get up so high?
“It’s really happening?” Missy asked.
“Yes.” Lilly set her jaw and grabbed a clean towel. “It’s not like we have any choice.” She nodded at an eye as it whirred past. It circled in a deliberate way, and not as if operating on more than the usual random noise-related settings.
Determined not to give way to fear, Lilly turned to Squidge. “I would advise against this option,” she stated not so much for his benefit, but for the lurking cameras. “Still, if we are lucky and stay calm, we can still birth the snake-hybrid. You can do the honours and flick the switch.”
Squidge frowned. “Silly. I know this experiment does not really matter – but I had hoped … ”
“Even if it isn’t quite ready – we do have a top of the line incubator standing by.” Lilly smiled. “Seems a waste not to use it.”
Missy glared at her flippant comment, but for once the sarcasm did seem to strike a chord with Squidge. “Yeah, right,” he said, blinking owlishly from behind his glasses.
“Go on, you do it, Brian,” he said at last.
They all held their collective breaths as Brian flicked the switch labelled birth.
Nothing happened.
Realising she was getting a tension headache, Lilly took a deliberate breath and clutched the towelling tighter, as if it might squirm free.
They waited on edge for endless seconds, stretching out to minutes. Lilly desperately wanted asprin, but decided it was best not to juggle painkiller and a baby snake-hybrid.
Brian fidgeted nervously. “Um,” he said at last. “Squidge, did I do something wrong?”
“I do not think so.” Squidge tapped his foot to the beat of the monitor.
Missy frowned and turned to Lilly, eyebrow arched in consternation.
Lilly’s head throbbed. What if something was wrong? What if the chamber was malfunctioning and killing the embryo? What if … ? Her hand reached out to the machine. Part of her thought she might be able to flick a switch better than Brian. The more sensible part laughed and pulled her hand away. She needed to wait calmly. Her job was to be ready to catch the baby.
A slushing sound echoed around the lab. Something was finally happening.
“Phew,” Brian dragged the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead as the artificial womb started heaving. Literally heaving.
For a moment Lilly was horrified. What if the baby was crushed? No. Clever machine, it was clearing the infant’s lungs as it slowly squeezed the tiny creature from the silicon womb.
An external panel slid open revealing an almost circular birth canal.
“Is that the head? Oh em gee! It is the head!” Missy exclaimed, as, streaked with brownish synthetic amnio fluid, the head crowned and slowly slid out, eyes squeezed tight shut. The rest of the body followed pretty fast. Lilly, almost caught off guard, just managed to grab the baby with the towel. “It’s a boy!” she said proudly watching their creation take its first breath.
Squidge stared at her oddly.
“I mean … I knew he was a boy,” Lilly blathered turning red. “It’s just one thing to know you’re making a boy, and another to see him being born.”
Missy squealed. “He’s soo cute.”
“Is he breathing?” Squidge asked.
Lilly nodded. “He’s perfect.”
“Well done,” Brian said, clapping Squidge on the back. It wasn’t very hard – but even so, poor Squidge nearly shot up into the air.
“Yes, well done everyone,” Lilly said drying the newborn, so brownish streaks of the synthetic amnio fluid rubbed off on the white cotton cloth. She gently cleaned the critter, revealing more and more soft downy fur. He had just a hint of a bushy tail, tufted ears and little yellow stripes down the sides of his body. Even prettier than she had imagined.
Missy oohed some more and said, “I can’t believe he’s part snake.”
“Damn, you are right,” Squidge muttered. “The morphology is not very much like my design at all.” He shook his head. “Lilly, you should never have made that last minute change.”
“But—” Lilly said. As far as she was concerned, the squirrel-snake hybrid was perfect.
“Never mind, Miss Lionheart. It may be useless, just like Dr Deathless said, but do not worry. It was a very hurried job, and it is alive. Besides, if I feed it to Esmeralda, the thing wont be a complete waste – Ezzy is eating for about twenty eggs.”
Missy and Brian gasped. Not about Esmeralda’s eggs, they already knew about those. What they couldn’t believe, or at least what Lilly couldn’t believe, was that Squidge thought he could throw the very cute designer critter into a snake cage.
“B-b-but,” Brian and Missy stuttered as the squirrel-snake hybrid opened it’s eyes for the first time, and looked up at them. Not the usual newborn steel grey, but a beautiful golden-almond colour. Lilly felt as if the creature’s luminescent eyes were drinking her in.
“No. He has to go.” Squidge said and tried to grab the squirrel-snake hybrid out of Lilly’s arms.
Gorgeous eyes glittering from the overhead lights, the critter bared very snake-like fangs at Squidge, and sank them into his hand.
“Quet-zeee!” Squidge shrieked.
“Yes, perfect!” Lilly shouted. “We’ll call him Quetzee. Oh. Are you okay?” She turned to Squidge and saw that baby Quetzee didn’t look like he was about to let go of Squidge’s hand any time soon.
Squidge didn’t say anything. He prised Quetzee’s jaws apart with a practised one-handed move, and shoved the squirming bundle into Lilly’s arms.
Quetzee turned around twice, before snuggling into Lilly’s chest and falling asleep.
“Snakes bladders!” Squidge cursed, rustling through his fifth cabinet drawer. “Someone find the antivenin.”
Poison? Of course, Quetzee was poisonous, how could she have forgotten that small detail? Lilly rushed to the fridge, it took just a moment to grab the antivenin, but by the time she got back, Squidge had sliced his hand just below the puncture and was already sucking out the poison. Between mouthfuls he babbled, “This is great, now, for the dreadbeast, all we need is less squirrel and more everything else—”
“Um, should you—” Lilly wanted to ask if he thought sucking out venom was such a good idea, but Squidge wasn’t listening.
“—more rat, more snake, and more spider. Especially all those web-making genes. Have you isolated them? You said you had.”
Lilly hadn’t quite. But she wasn’t about to admit that. “How about gecko as well?” she asked facetiously as she handed him the vial. “You know, with gecko genes the dreadbeast will be able to climb walls along with everything else.”
“Great idea,” Squidge said. “I’ll get onto it. So long as you finish up with the web sequence today, and check the DNA superstructure we have so far. We have to try to get it into the AW tomorrow. Oh yes, and Brian and Missy, the AW needs cleaning and sterilising. The instructions are in the filing cabinet somewhere.”
“We’ll be fine,” Lilly reassured him. Not
because she thought there was much of a chance they’d be fine, but because it was what he needed to hear. She the antivenin ready to inject when Mr Big and Pinhead barged in the door, a belligerent Annie snapping at their heels.
“Ow!” Squidge muttered as she plunged the needle into his arm a little more roughly than she’d meant.
“What in all hells do you think you’re doing? My assistants came round earlier with very specific instructions!”
“Huh?” Lilly asked. “I was just—”
“You did tell them, didn’t you?” he whispered to Pinhead so loudly everybody could hear.
“Yes, sir. We were very clear about it.”
“Good. How’s my dreadbeast going to scare away all the super-spies of the world if it’s still hanging around in test tubes? “And what is that thing I hear you’ve been wasting your time on?” he roared, swiping at Lilly, or more accurately, the creature now very awake and hissing in her arms.
Lilly pulled Quetzee away from danger, so that all the little creature could do in retaliation, was snarl and bare his fangs.
“That thing is groundbreaking, it’s a mammalian-snake hybrid,” she said.
Squidge stood there. “I told them, I … . It is just an experimental prototype.”
“And I am telling you that something will break if I don’t get my dreadbeast soon,” Mr Big growled. “And that’ll be you two. What did I say last time, Squidge? I said that if it’s cute, kill it! I need a beast that will strike fear into the hearts of my enemies, not some fluffball,” he ranted. “I need my dreadbeast And I need it now!”
“We’ll have it in a week or so,” Squidge said, looking more than a little pale as he stumbled backward – away from Mr Big and the frothing dog.
“A week?” Lilly gasped. “Are you serious?”
“A week.” Mr Big growled – as if cutting edge science should be completed in a matter of minutes.
Squidge shrugged, rocking back slightly. His hands clutching his stomach. “Maybe a little less if we start the gestation today.”
“Umm,” Lilly gulped.