Birth of the Forbidden

by Laurie Parten

  countless men and women to carry out future trials. Our men and women of service, you understand."

  Sophia sat back down, brows furrowing. "Are you talking Army? Marines?"

  "If these experiments are all we have been informed they are, our service men and women would be honored to be … attributed with the best abilities. Only to make them faster, stronger, more agile. A heads up on the enemy."

  The older man stood and sat next to Sophia. "We don’t want to subject our noble servicemen and women to experiments that are not yet sound. Before we issue the

  contract, we would want to see the results for ourselves. If they don’t meet the standards, we will leave you to making necessary improvements as you will without interference with the understanding we may return at a future time. If they do, the United States government is prepared to offer you a sum of five billion dollars for your services."

  Sophia straightened her back, face emotionless. "What gave you the impression I was in need of money?"

  The younger man smiled. "Dr. Collingsworth. Everyone needs money. The world

  turns on money."

  "I think I heard that somewhere."

  "Think of it, Dr. Collingsworth. Endless funding for your projects … a tidy sum to retire on. The possibilities would become endless."

  "Funding isn’t a problem either, I can assure you. I don’t see how any of my projects would be of any interest…"

  "Dr. Collingsworth. There’s no point in pretending. We are completely aware of the

  … creations in your labs. The money—let’s call it investment money. Now, all false modesty aside, let’s come to an understanding. I can assure you, we walk out of this building and we’ll take the offer elsewhere."

  Sophia smiled coyly. "If you know half as much as you say you do, then you are more than aware, just as I am, there is nowhere else for you to take this offer. Which, to me," she stood and folded her hands, "translates into time for consideration on my part.

  So, with that advantage, I’ll end this meeting and tell you that, should I decide I’m interested, I will be in contact."

  The exchange of glances between the two men tickled Sophia more than she would

  admit to anyone.

  "We won’t wait long."

  "You’ll wait as long as it takes. Have a good afternoon."

  Chapter Three

  June 18, 2001

  The scene in the operating room replayed the ones before it to near perfection. A

  cheetah lie on the table, restrained, drugged enough to remain calm as surgeons

  performed the cesarean. Sophia fought for focus, losing the battle as thoughts strayed.

  Burying Conrad three days earlier had been harder than she ever expected and caused her concentration to waver. Funny. She always thought Telov took priority in her life, Conrad second.

  She was wrong.

  The surgeons held the child in the air in triumph and glanced up to meet Sophia’s

  eyes. She nodded and gestured at the cheetah on the table. They nodded. Good. The

  cheetah survived, this far. The child survived. The experiment was a runaway success.

  She watched as the team closed the incision and carried the child out of the room.

  The baby would be placed in the same lab as Sventen. The other children, so many of them, remained separated with the other experiments in Lab B. Malformations were

  expected, she supposed, but not to the degree of some of the experiments—those others, as some of her team referred to them. She hated the term.

  Surgeons wheeled the cheetah, the incision now closed, out of the room. Sophia

  pushed the intercom.

  "The child?"

  "Is healthy, Dr. Collingsworth. A baby girl. Just as healthy as that tiger cub."

  She nodded. "That is good to hear. And the mother cheetah?"

  "She’s stable and there is no reason to think she won’t survive."

  "Very good. I will be in the lab shortly to see the progress of the new baby."

  "Yes, Dr. Collingsworth."

  She let go of the intercom and pulled in a deep breath before turning to face the

  audience of the military behind her. They didn’t intimidate her in the fancy uniforms or intentions, yet she was unsettled with the contract they entered into a year earlier. She couldn’t understand it, certainly couldn’t explain it.

  The experiments would continue without their meddling. But, she thought with

  narrowed eyes, they were meddling and she didn’t like it.

  "As you can see, the project continues to be sound. This is not an exact science."

  The general nodded, arms crossed, face emotionless. "We appreciate that. The birth of this cheetah child is encouraging. Let’s move forward. The Marines are interested in starting a pilot program with one or two men."

  She raised a brow. "Are they aware of the risk?"

  The general scoffed. "Marines put their lives on the line daily and freely sacrifice for their country. They take orders and don’t need to know more than that."

  Sophia nodded, ignored the ache in the pit of her stomach. The arrangement felt

  wrong. "Then we can begin in six weeks. Before that, I need to concentrate my efforts on keeping this newborn alive."

  "We agree, along the terms of the contract signed. We will return in four weeks so we can make introductions and prepare him for this next mission."

  She straightened her back. "This is not some mere mission, General. Once the experiment is complete, your soldier can never go back to what he was before the

  experiment. This needs to be made clear to you, your government and the Marine before I will continue forward with the contract. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to attend to the child."

  She turned away from the General and his men.

  "Dr. Collingsworth."

  She turned around. "Yes?"

  "The terms of the contract have been already agreed upon, and we are not some little organization. It is not only my government. It is your government, and we expect you to show respect."

  Sophia glanced away momentarily. "Have a good day."

  She hurried down the hall, seething. Conrad wanted the contract signed. At the time, she didn’t understand the urgency. Looking back, she guessed neither did he. Now Sophia suspected he wanted to ensure the future for his wife. Although the deserted mine they discovered more than provided for whatever life remained for her. She raised a brow. She abided by his wishes, signed the contract, and got herself into a fine mess. The

  government telling her what to do and when to do it. Telov was becoming less and less her baby and more and more like a prison.

  Little did the government know they couldn’t imprison her.

  The nearest lab didn’t hold the cheetah girl nor Sventen, but Sophia stopped at the door anyway. The worst results of the experiments weren’t the ones who died. The worst were housed behind these doors. She rarely went inside and left the disasters to other lab technicians. She couldn’t stomach them.

  She rested a hand on the handle, slipped a key into the lock and pulled it back out as one of the creatures inside let out an ear-splitting howl. Let the other technicians figure out what went wrong and why. She was the owner of these labs, regardless of what the government wanted, and that allowed her the comfort of working the cases she chose.

  Chapter Four

  The mountains loomed proud beyond the base of the forest, the shadows of night

  climbing towards a dimming night sky. Sophia sat in the backyard, sipping tea from a Chippendale tea cup. A rare early night home from the labs allowed her time to think.

  Sophia yearned to concentrate on the upcoming spring or remember times she sat with Conrad gazing into the woods.

  Anything but business.

  She took another sip of tea and studied the trees, thoughts trailing to him. The one legends were written about, whispers hinted to in dark corners of literature and in darker corners of ba
rs and bedrooms. The lion-man she yearned to reproduce and wanted even worse to meet. She rested her head against the back of the chair. If the legends were true.

  Doubt over the accuracy of the stories stretched across two continents, yet everything within her heart said the legends were based on fact and, Sophia thought with a sigh, he was out there. Somewhere. If only she knew how to find him, where to look. What he looked like.

  Recent rumors played games with her mind. Whispers in the valley town of Sullivan

  of a mysterious figure lurking on the hillsides and in the shadows. It seemed too much to hope that mysterious figure might be the same she was searching for.

  Sophia stood. "That’s not possible—too big of a coincidence. Too much hope. The lion-man is more than likely dead." More than likely the werewolves, like the female she’s taken the DNA from to help create Sventen. No one in Sullivan knew of their

  existence. She’d been lucky to stumble on the one female now living in the labs.

  "Enough of that." Sophia headed into the house and rinsed the empty glass, placed it in the dishwasher as the telephone rang. Slapping the dish towel against the counter, she pulled the receiver from the cradle. "Yes?"

  "Dr. Collingsworth, we need you up at Telov."

  "Is there a problem?"

  "A couple mutants escaped their cages and there was a security breach."

  "Are they contained?"

  "They are now, but there are some broken cages and a few wounds."

  "Treat those wounds as best you can. I’ll be there shortly."

  "Yes, Dr. Collingsworth."

  Sophia hung up the phone and rubbed the top of one hand. A security breach. Wasn’t it just a matter of time? Wasn’t it a matter of time before something far worse happened?

  She retrieved her keys from the key rack and headed out the door. One accident, not a pattern. No need to start worrying now.

  Three damaged cages, two of the mutants needing to be put down. The incident, far

  from a catastrophe for Telov, yet…

  *

  Sophia stared at the female werewolf, unsettled with the roiling in her stomach. The wolf met her gaze and whimpered.

  Sophia reached for the lock and pulled a hand back. "I’m sorry. I can’t let you go."

  The wolf whimpered, circled the cage with a low growl.

  "No. You belong to us."

  Chapter Five

  2011

  The sun set beyond the mountains and Sophia closed her eyes, wishing sleep would

  settle in and overtake the parade of thoughts. She stared down at weathered hands resting on a stomach no longer thin. The past ten years hadn’t been kind, though she suspected the changes in her body were more about guilt and stress than the practical jokes played by time. She rubbed a hand and closed her eyes once more. Sleep wouldn’t provide a refuge. Not any longer.

  Now it played judge and jury.

  She was guilty, Sophia didn’t doubt that. So many years ago, she wanted to know if she could. Could make changes to DNA to create the creature of her fantasies. Could make a perfect child. Could be in control. Now, she knew what could be done wasn’t important. So many creatures now—living and breathing and tortured—she was

  responsible for. They should be destroyed and put out of their misery. Only, Sophia thought as she stared at the darkened ceiling, she wasn’t a murderer. Many other things, most of them as unforgivable as murder, maybe, but she couldn’t bring herself to murder those creatures who wouldn’t exist if not for her.

  With a heavy sigh, Sophia stood and headed down the hand carved staircase to the

  library. The option of closing the labs was no longer hers—even if she wanted to. The government controlled most of the labs now, and what was once hers was being taken away bit by bit.

  She sat at a desk hand carved by crafters in Missoula. Heavy. Intricate. It was

  Conrad’s favorite room in the house, the desk his preferred seat. Without her thoughts clear or deliberate, Sophia opened and closed the drawers. All the paperwork he managed when he was alive. Sophia rubbed one temple. She’d have to clean the drawers out,

  maybe have someone come and pick up the desk and donate it. No reason to keep it in the house.

  Sophia closed the top drawer and opened the center drawer where expected pencils

  and pens and paperclips waited. But on top, a paper, folded in half with her name written in his sloppy, nearly ineligible handwriting. Tears filled Sophia’s eyes as she picked it up with trembling fingers, an index finger running along the letters. With a deep breath, she flipped open the paper and stared at a short letter Conrad must have written just before his death.

  My dearest Sophia,

  Our life together has been more than I could ever have hoped for. You have been a treasure to me, and I am so thankful we spent our lives together.

  You are a brilliant scientist and I know how important the labs are to you. I worry about you, what you’ll do when I’m gone and not here to drag you out of the lab coat on

  occasion. I worry about our finances and if you’ll be able to retire should you decide to—

  however unlikely that might be.

  I know I pushed you into the agreement with the government. You must know that I did it because the contract promised I would be able to leave you knowing you were taken care of for life. That’s so important to me.

  You’ll be angry with me, my dear, but I’ve known this time was coming for some time. Oh, I suppose I could have gone in for chemotherapy, maybe even tried coming up with something in the labs that would have bought me time, but I couldn’t do that to you.

  I couldn’t drag you away from doing what you love to worry about me and my health.

  I’ve smoked for years, and honestly, we’ve known for years that this could happen, didn’t we?

  Now, now that I know the time is close, I regret having you sign that contract. No amount of money is worth selling your soul. It’s my fear that we’ve done just that with these experiments.

  I hope you take the time to look around and put your scientific curiosity aside and leave that place. It’s already getting … dangerous to be there. I see it. The agents are moving in, making small changes most won’t even notice. I’m not sure you’ve noticed.

  But this is only the beginning and soon, everything you and I have built will be gone.

  Destroyed and eaten up by a government eager to further their own agenda.

  There won’t be any science in that, my dear.

  Whatever you do, know that I love you. That I always have. Know that you are an amazing and gifted woman and regardless of what we’ve done, I know your intentions were always the best.

  And forgive me for not telling you I was sick, for stealing the opportunity to find a way to spend more time together. Understand I thought it best. Understand that I love you and am waiting for the day we can be together again.

  Always,

  Conrad

  Tears fell to the paper, bleeding ink in some of the letters. Sophia wiped her cheeks, cleared her throat and laid the paper on the desk.

  Quietly, she stood, made her way to the window seat and eased onto the cushions. It was as she expected. Conrad knew he was dying and somehow… How did she not know?

  Not see it?

  "I’m sorry, Conrad," she whispered, eyes gazing out the window and to the night sky.

  "I am so sorry." She sat, gazing out the window, thoughts passing from one thing to another, rubbing a tingling hand. She’d loved him and should have seen the symptoms, the pain her husband surely was in. She should have seen.

  The agents are moving in, making small changes … not sure you’ve noticed.

  She hadn’t noticed her husband was sick but she had noticed the changes inside

  precious Telov Labs. The request for changes in procedures, the subtle adjustments to employee schedules and the office set up in an adjacent hall from her office that was always locked and she’d never been inside. />
  Yes, she thought with eyes locked on the gently swaying trees, she’d noticed. The

  changes were disagreeable, but the men who strode the halls and standing over her

  shoulder in the labs concerned her more. Manipulating and controlling, those were the thoughts badgering her at nights recently. Dangerous.

  Again she stood, picked up a piece of paper and an envelope, scribbled three short words and tucked the letter in the corner of the bookcase. Sitting at the window seat, Sophia fell asleep.

  Morning light streamed into the kitchen as Sophia stood at the sink, staring across the lawn to the woods. A neck stiff from sleeping the night in the library left her off-center, the coffee not weaving the usual spell. She rubbed her hand and concentrated on the trees where the waking sun played in short shadows with the trees. In all the years in the house, she never noticed how beautiful the forests were, or the mountains beyond them. Strange. All the times she sat in the backyard with Conrad and…

  A shadow moved from tree to tree, tall and erect. Sophia’s brows knitted. Erect like a man, but broader, somehow different. Sophia rested the glass of water on the counter and went outside.

  The shadow moved further into the tree line as she stepped onto her lawn, changing and morphing differently from the pattern of those other shadows. Unnatural. Heart pounding, she took a tentative step forward. The shadow could be anything. A man. A werewolf. Worse. Or nothing at all. "I’m a crazy old woman," she muttered, unable to turn back.

  At the property line and the edge of the trees, she paused. The shadow remained

  unchanged. A trick of the morning sun cast against the tall pines? Her gut said it was something more.

  She took a step into the forest Sophia seldom visited. The path wound into

  thickening shadows across pinecones and needles, dirt and leaves. Birds singing in the distance, the vague warmth of the sun as it fought to reach through branches of thick foliage. Funny she never realized just how lost a person could become in the Bitterroots.

  "I ask you not to come any further."

  Sophia stopped, heart galloping until it hurt. "Who is that? You have no business here."