by Mel Todd
Why the people who changed? Why did we succumb to the virus? We are all healthy, active, intelligent. Or is that the wrong question? Why did we get infected?
That question rocked her back on her mental heels and she twisted the idea even more, as she drove, hyper alert to anyone following them. After the last few days, she didn’t take anything for granted. But she saw nothing, and the Hummer prevented most other drivers from being aggressive to her, which was a good thing. Her temper rode a short leash right now, and it would burn away in an instant.
Nothing resolved for her on the drive, and as she pulled into the station, she just wondered how she would make this all work. So many things there were no policies or protocols for. The legal department must be having conniption fits every time they saw her name.
“Hey, we’re here,” she said in a normal voice as she shut off the car. JD’s eyes flicked open, and he held still as he looked at everything, then relaxed and sat up in the chair.
“I see you didn’t wreck my Hummer.”
“Oh please, like people would let me hit them in this thing. They ran if I got too near.”
He flashed a grin at her. “Exactly. Protection by intimidation. Works most of the time.”
McKenna laughed as she climbed out and headed to the station, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt that JD had grabbed from her clothes, she felt under dressed and out of place. The fact that the jeans were loose on her hips didn’t help at all, though a small part of her, the part that thought she was fat, clapped in glee. Annoyed, and realizing her day had just begun, they walked into the station, and once again was met with silence. But just as she had stiffened her back to deal with it, someone started clapping, then another, and soon the entire station clapped everyone looking at her with if not a smile, at least not a glare.
She stood there frozen, unsure until the desk sergeant growled at her, his version of a friendly voice, “You did good. Took down the idiot, didn’t kill the idiot who tazed you, and got shot through no fault of your own, and yet here you are. Hale and hardy, and ready to go back to work. That’s what I call a dedicated officer. Now get your ass down to the conference room and take the damn test.”
The station chuckled as the clapping died away and she ducked her head in a half thanks half embarrassed gesture as she headed to the conference room with JD laughing softly behind her. The sounds at her back made her feel welcome and at home, something she hadn’t felt here since the change. Sure, there were probably a few people that still had issues with it, but knowing her co-workers as a whole supported her, healed something deep inside, and helped to steel her spine.
Holich looked up as they walked in. “You don’t look like you just got shot yesterday. Was starting to wonder if I’d imagined the whole damn thing, but the pile of paperwork on my desk proves I didn’t.” She gestured to the man sitting in the corner. “This is the union rep, he’ll proctor the test since you missed it yesterday. Both of you sit, and I swear if you don’t pass it, with flying colors I might add, I’m going to skin you both alive in your animal forms and use you as rugs.” Her glare held amusement and seriousness, and McKenna swallowed and nodded sinking down into the chair as JD took the other one across from her.
The proctor rattled off how much time they had, the rules and then told them to begin. McKenna opened the test and started answering questions. Time disappeared in the scratch of pencil on paper, and question after question. The last essay question loomed up at her, and she looked at it, rereading it over and over.
If you had to choose between being shot and allowing a child to be hurt, which would you choose? Explain your rational and how you would handle the situation.
The question made no sense. There was no choice. Again, she reread it, looking for the catch and couldn’t find it. With a shrug she started to write, wondering how anyone could ever answer for the child being hurt.
The last question done, she set down her pencil and looked up. Three hours had passed, and exhaustion from the traumatic day snuck up on her and she closed her eyes as she waited for JD to finish. The scritching sound from JD's work acted as a lullaby as she waited, and she found herself dozing lightly, aware of what was going on but not paying active attention.
Everything kept moving fast, but if she slowed down, she knew she’d go careening out of control. She had to follow up on buying the house and see if the movers moved all her stuff as she’d been out of touch. Talk to Toni and let her know what happened. And find out why someone tazed her, the shooting part at least she could comprehend. Not to mention the crazy guy with an obsidian knife. Who the heck used obsidian knives?
The click of a pencil being laid down pulled her out of her musing and she came back to the real world to see JD looking at her, then turning his head to look at the proctor.
“We good?”
“Yes, Officer Largo finished a little bit ago.” The man stood collected their papers, checked them over quickly, then nodded. “Thank you. I’ll turn them in.”
With a sigh of relief she stood, stretched, and headed back out. Anne Holich stood in the hall waiting for them.
“Good, Kirk is waiting for you.”
She bit back a moan, this so wasn’t want she wanted to deal with. At this point she really hadn’t processed what happened. It seemed like days ago, but she knew it had barely been twenty-four hours. Her feet feeling like they had Velcro on the bottom as they walked towards Kirks office, JD behind her. She could tell from his pace he wasn’t any more excited than she was.
Heading to what she knew would be their doom, McKenna just tried to figure out what she could be in trouble for, but drew a blank. Giving into the inevitable, she knocked on Kirk’s office door.
“Come in.” His voice clear and calm, which at this point she’d take any advantage she could get. She pushed open the door, stepping in a bit.
“You wanted to see me, Captain?” While she still thought he was an ass, his comments the other day had raised her opinion of him, at least a bit. Who knew, he could always lower it again.
“Largo, Davidson, come on in, take a seat.” Kirk said with a wry smile on his face and waved at the two chairs. His office presented the opposite picture of Holich’s tiny office. Large, spacious, but even McKenna couldn’t say he didn’t work. The desk had piles of paper, his computer screen showed an email inbox that looked worse than hers at home. His hair had been ruffled more than usual, and he had shadows under his eyes that rivaled Holich’s. Her stomach clenched as she wondered how much of that pointed back to her.
She started to sit, but Kirk stopped her. “Not to be inappropriate, but would you mind showing me where you were shot?” His voice stayed flat, and she couldn’t read anything into it.
“No.” She lifted the side of the shirt exposing her side, and the red marks where the bullet and subsequent surgery had broken the skin.
“I heard, I didn’t know if I believed.” He shook his head. “Sorry, please sit.”
McKenna sank into the chair, and JD took the one next to him.
“You seem to attract strange situations like ants to a picnic.” He said his voice wry as he looked at them. “But so far everything we’ve looked at you’ve handled with professionalism and grace that I don’t think I could have pulled off. But, be that as it may, you are one of the most recognizable people in the world at this moment.”
She flinched, closing her eyes. Fame had never been a goal of hers and having it didn’t make her feel anything but revulsion.
“I’m sorry, Captain.” And to her own bemusement, she actually was sorry. The headache she must be causing them had to be incredible. “Do you need me to resign?”
“Gods no,” the words burst out of Kirk before the echo of her own words had faded.
The words made her jerk back a bit, and JD stiffened at the same time.
“Look let me explain.” He stood up and walked over to shut the door, then sat back down, his eyes serious, and for the first time McKenna wondered if maybe she’d u
nderestimated this man. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair again. “I know most of the station thinks I’m a self-aggrandizing jerk who only cares about promotion, and that calling me Captain Kirk pisses me off. I am interested in promotion, and I think it is hilarious that people call me Captain Kirk, but it is a safer thing to be prickly about and let people poke at it. Safe for everyone.”
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, then opened them, looking at McKenna. “My great-grandmother lived in France during the Holocaust, she helped people flee the Reich because she knew no one should be punished for what they are. Her sister was a lesbian which at that time was unheard of. Her sister was killed, shot by German soldiers when she refused to come with them, to wear the triangle. My great-grandmother came here and raised a family. I loved that woman, and she made damn sure that I knew that all it takes for evil to succeed is good men to do nothing. I doubt I’m a good man, but I’ll be damned if I let this, this,” he waved his hands in the air, “curse, blessing, gift, mutation, whatever it is, provide people a reason to isolate or punish others. If people like me, people in power, don’t stand up and say no, then people like you will become the next Jews in the Holocaust, and I’ll go to hell before I let that happen.”
His intense tone, direct eyes, and absolute conviction rocked McKenna back. All of a sudden she wondered if she had been too harsh on the man.
“All that being said, you’ve done nothing but behave in a manner I wish all my officers would.” He took a deep breath. “But, you have managed to cause more paper work in the last week than most officers have in the last decade.”
McKenna winced a bit, all too aware of the accuracy of that statement.
“However, you are so public I have to make use of you to make sure people don’t think your abilities have any bearing on your job. Conversely, you’ve had so much stuff happen to you that we don’t even have policies on, that at this point I can’t have you back on regular duty.” She winced a bit, but nodded slowly. “Heck, technically you should be on medical leave for the next six to eight weeks. But I’m going to use you,” he nodded at JD, “and Davidson too.”
If he had said those words to her a week ago, she probably would have already been protesting. But the last week, not to mention her fears she really was going insane, tempered that reaction.
“How is that, Captain?”
“There are some ground roots issues with children who are shifting. Parent groups are throwing fits as there have been a few cases of biting or scratching from kids. We want to make it very clear that children who shift are to be afforded the same rights as all other children. We would like you two, to be part of our ambassador team. A bus that picks up shifter kids in different districts and spends a day with them, showing them some of cool parts of being a shifter, reassuring parents that shifters can hold responsible jobs, and can be normal people.” His eyes crinkled at that. “Or at least act like normal people. Right now, you, out of all the people in the world, are the most visible shifter there is. And everything you’ve done has gone viral.”
“What?” She knew about the original video, but what was this everything?
“You didn’t know? The lion video was compiled into an almost seamless visual and went viral, and someone caught the guy tazing you, your shift, getting shot, and Davidson here decking the idiot that shot you. Though right now with the image of him curled up next to your cat form and calling your name, I expect lots of theories about you as star crossed lovers.”
McKenna cast a horrified look at JD, who had a matching expression on his face, and Kirk burst out in laughter.
“Well I think that answers that unspoken question. But yes, all of that went live. Everyone knows who you are if they know what the internet is.” He shrugged. “I’m sure you’ve already had some of the fall out get to you from what I’ve heard. Something about an impromptu press conference?”
“Uh, yes, sir.” She shrugged.
“No worries. But starting tomorrow you are on a Public Relations assignment until the department can get some policies written. Hernandez and Mansour haven’t had any waves, and at this point I don’t believe the public knows they can shift, and if possible, I’d like to keep it that way. Tomorrow will be some basic training, and find out if you’re both doing this as sergeants or not,” his steel eyed gaze made it clear he expected the promotions to come through. “Then you get to hang with kids.” He paused a worried look on his face. “You two can work with kids, right?”
JD coughed and McKenna smiled. “Yes, Captain, we are fine with kids.”
“Good. Then get out of here unless you’ve got anything else for me?”
“No, Captain, I think we are good.” McKenna rose. “Time to report tomorrow?”
“Eight am should be fine. Thank you, both of you. Officers like you are one of the reasons I don’t mind the Star Trek jokes.” McKenna felt her face flush as he grinned and shooed them out of his office.
They walked out, nodding at people, then stopped at his Hummer. “Dammit, Kirk keeps that up and I might actually like and respect him.”
JD burst out in laughter, then nodded. “Agreed. Maybe the world is ending. Where to?”
“Crash at your place? I don’t care anymore, and I’m exhausted and even your couch is looking good.”
“Oh, I should have an empty spare room and a bed you can use if you’d like?” McKenna shot him a look, he shrugged. “I made phone calls, got crap done, while you were busy being lazy and sleeping.”
McKenna flashed him a smile. “Thanks. Yeah, I just want food, and sleep. And a bed sounds great.”
JD climbed up, and she followed him.
What in the world is going to happen next?
Chapter 28 - Ah Ha Moments
With the rise of people of all backgrounds with this new ability, more people are starting to claim that shifters have unfair advantages. Besides the obvious loss of weight and becoming healthier almost no matter what you eat, some tests have implied they might be faster or stronger than regular humans. If this is the case how can we share this gift with everyone? Why should one small segment of the population be gifted with something the rest of us can’t have? The question isn’t should they be protected from discrimination, but should we be preventing unfair advantage of these shifters when competing for jobs or positions? ~ TNN Talking Head
C-Tac leaned back and grinned at his notebook. One thing you could say for the boss, making people present documented plans concentrated your focus wonderfully. He asked questions that were insightful and sharp, and if you didn’t know the answer, the consequences could be worse than simply having your suggestion dismissed. The boss tended to judge how worthy someone was of their spot and had no issue giving territories to others with better plans.
Fortunately, his proposal had been accepted, and the increase in sales in his new territory of 245% had also helped with that. At this point he had everything there he thought he would need. Even the increased food requirements that had been reported for shifters as well as a system to disperse knockout gas. In many ways that had been the hardest part. From the movies you would have thought knockout gas was something anyone could get. Not so apparently. But he had cracked that problem, apparently dentists who bought drugs were willing to barter for their drugs. Useful life lesson.
Another week and he’d be ready. But he still hadn’t overcome the biggest challenge.
“How the hell do I get a bunch of kids, and someone to train them?” His voice sounded overly loud in the quiet room. He hated working with music or anything. Besides silence allowed him to be aware of the world around him.
Kidnapping kids one by one really wouldn’t work, and they needed someone to deal with them, who either wouldn’t get attached or who was expendable. Someone they would listen to, either because they feared, respected, or loved that person. But he needed a way to control that person too.
The conundrum sat in his mind as he worked on the profit-and-loss sheets for his week.
Reports were due the first Sunday of the month, and he’d learned the hard way that if he waited until the end of the month, it took him forever to get everything updated. Weekly only took an hour or so.
The whoop-whoop ring tone of his phone made him look up. His friendly cop calling. C-Tac took a minute to think if he had anyone he could offer up, but right now things were tight and controlled, maybe some extra good drugs would work.
“Yes?” He never answered with his name, simply a question. Much safer that way.
“I need some weed, some good stuff, and a few lines. If I don’t blow some stress I’m going to kill someone, namely a stuck up too good for me bitch of a cat.”
The stream of words surprised C-Tac, Bacon had never been so verbal before. He must really be upset.
“Bitch of a cat?”
"That cop, Largo. They hand her everything just because she has tits and an ass and turns into a pussy. Like she has any idea what it means to be a cop." The snarl in the voice made C-Tac blink. He had to be talking about the chick that was on the video's lately.
"Didn't she just get shot?" He thought he'd seen something about that, but honestly he didn't pay much attention to the news story besides just a random thought. He had too much other stuff to do.
The snort of derision on the other end tested his self-control to not start laughing. The last time he'd met anyone this pissed off, it had been his mother when the woman who had slept with her then husband had showed up at church wearing the same dress as his momma.
"Likely story. She showed up the next day, fit as a fiddle, and they held the damn test for her. She was probably holed up somewhere fucking that troll Davidson. Swear women swing their tits and people fall over themselves to make life easy for them." He trailed off, and C-Tac could just imagine him stewing.
C-Tac figured he needed to distract before the guy had a stroke and removed an excellent asset. "So, I've got some extra weed, primo stuff. Would you like it?"