The male H’kaah on the floating table became so still Cory Ross thought the alien body had suddenly died. Then after a heart-wrenching moment the lapin head slowly turned toward the young man’s voice and the pale golden eyes tried to focus on the human’s face. “Coo-rie? Oo-eye kent Eye tok erite? Mie mouf doosn’t seem t’vanna voik—eet fees en seons foonie.”
Cory Ross gripped the alien’s shoulder firmly, saying, “Dad, remember. They said it might take some time for your human brain patterns to adjust to the way the H’kaah body is…is wired. Your visual cortex should eventually begin making sense of what the H’kaah eyes are sending it, and as for your mouth—” He took a deep breath before adding, “Think about it, Dad. You now have a divided upper lip, as well as much bigger front teeth. Having a muzzle, even though it’s a short one, has got to throw your speech timing off, too. If you’d been able to talk plainly right off the bat I’d have had to suspect something wasn’t quite kosher with the deal.”
The prone alien licked his black-furred lips with a long and narrow, shockingly pink tongue, then took great care in slowly saying, “H-hell, Cory, I’d forgott’n about th’ fancy dent’l equipment, not t’mention th’ (cough) ‘hare’ lip.”
After a moment’s shocked pause Cory Ross sputtered and coughed as he tried unsuccessfully to choke back an explosive laugh, but Lisa Thomas simply barked and hooted uncontrollably, which attracted annoyed glares and confused stares from the various aliens. “Oh my God,” she eventually managed to stage-whisper to Nolan Green, “after all he’s been through, and he still manages to sneak in a damned pun!”
“I know that some word sounds are supposed to be impossible with such a combination,” Jack Ross slowly continued, his speech rapidly improving as he talked, “but for the life of me I could never catch S’leen making major pronunciation mistakes.”
“Maybe that’s because I was always one jump ahead of you,” she said from a position slightly behind and to one side of Cory Ross. The young man jumped as if he had been poked in the ribs. “Forgive me, Cory, but I couldn’t stay away.” S’leen purposely brushed by the human and stepped up to the prone alien’s side, then reached out a steady hand to gently stroke his dark-furred cheek. “Hello, Jack,” she purred, smiling. “Welcome to my world.”
In the short time Cory Ross had known her, he had never seen his father’s H’kaah companion act with such self-assuredness, and once again he had to revise his attitude regarding the lapin aliens. He watched in amazement as she first rubbed her free hand under her chin, then gently stroked the male’s muzzle. A moment later she leaned over and puffed a soft breath into his face, then straightened up and stepped back to stand beside the young human. They both watched in amazement the rapid changes that were taking place in the black-furred male H’kaah.
Jack Ross felt as if every nerve in his body was on fire, and he twitched and jittered with sudden urges and feelings that didn’t correspond to anything he could relate to. As he struggled to master his new body he realized with a start that his vision was beginning to show him vaguely discernible shapes, and as he concentrated on them they grew sharper and more distinct, although, like miss-aligned binoculars, they were often “double” images. If you quit fighting it, nitwit, his inner voice chided him, your brain will adjust. Loosen up!
He forced himself to relax, and when he did he became aware that his nose was feeding him a wealth of information. He momentarily shifted his attention to it to try sorting out some of what it was trying to tell him, and that was when he discovered that his large ears were picking up sounds like amplified directional microphones. With a simple twitch of muscles that he’d never had control over as a human he found he could orient his ears to better hear conversations that interested him.
Cory Ross turned to S’leen and grinned. “You’re not only beautiful, you’re brilliant, too,” he said admiringly. “You knew exactly what would make him focus, and just look at him. It’s like watching someone evolve right in front of our eyes!”
The male H’kaah was blinking, his eyes and ears tracking conversations. He suddenly realized that he wasn’t restrained on the table, and he slowly brought a shaky hand up in front of his face, his eyes struggling to focus on it. The hand turned and twisted and the fingers flexed, the small, pearly gold claws prominent on the fingertips.
My god, Ross thought in amazement, the poor bastard, D’raan, must have been clinching his fists in terror. That would explain the row of tiny bloody holes in the palm, and why both hands are hurting. These claws are sharp! Then he brought the arm up against his nose and carefully sniffed it. After that, he sniffed the other arm and then turned his head toward S’leen, asking with a distinct note of alarm in his voice, “Do…do I need a bath? I never noticed you or L’niik smelling anything like this!”
“You have a normal adult male H’kaah scent, Jack,” she stated with a gentle smile. “While no two of us have exactly the same scent, I can truthfully say that you have inherited a clean, well-groomed and very attractive body.”
“I—my eyes are working better now,” he ventured after a few moments, “but…but when I look at you—any of you other than S’leen, that is—I feel that something’s, well, missing. Do I have to tie a scent to a visual image of a person to…to establish that person’s identity?”
“It’s not absolutely necessary,” S’leen replied, “but it certainly helps, especially when individuals have similar visual features. Other than color and pattern, many H’kaah have few visible differences to the casual observer, but while two or more individuals may look the same, their scents will always be different, and we remember scents the same as we remember names.”
“L’niik, Trudy, F’haan, Cory, C’maat, everybody!” Jack Ross called. “Please come closer so I can see and…and smell you!” They all did, including the Mn’rii, and one-by-one they allowed him to blinkingly look at them as he sniffed their proffered hands. When he had inspected the last of them he joked, “At least doing it this way is a lot more dignified than sniffing butts!” He suddenly giggled like a child.
Lisa Thomas laughed so hard she collapsed into a nearby alien-shaped chair.
Chapter 12
*Every Bunny Needs Some Bunny*
It took less time than even the most optimistic of the Mn’rii scientists had expected for Jack Ross to gain motor control of his new H’kaah body. Within fifteen minutes he was sitting on the side of the waist-high lab table, and ten minutes after that he was standing awkwardly on his own two rabbit-like feet. Well before then he had sipped water from a cup, spilling a major part of it as he tried to master having a short muzzle and a bifurcated upper lip, as well as large front teeth. After progressing to the point of taking several clumsy steps without the direct support of his companions he suddenly stopped, a strange look on his face.
“L’niik,” he said sharply after a quick glance inside the front of his shorts. “I think I need your help—and your help alone.” When the others expressed concern he explained, “If I’m not misreading what this body’s telling me I, uh—I gotta pee, but, well, since things aren’t quite what I was used to, I, uh, believe I better have some expert guidance. Still, I’d rather not have a larger audience than necessary.”
When the two male H’kaah returned to the room some ten minutes later Cory Ross quipped, “Well, Dad, did everything come out all right?”
Jack Ross good-naturedly barked, “If I hadn’t had L’niik coaching me I’d have probably needed a bath before being allowed back into polite society.” After the peals of hooting, whistling and snickering died down he added, “I didn’t study H’kaah physiology all that closely,” more laughter, “and I’m really thankful that L’niik isn’t, well, gay.”
Nolan Green quickly injected, “But how do you know he’s not?” The humans, along with Jack Ross, again howled with laughter while the other H’kaah chittered and snickered. None of the Mn’rii scientists understood the joke.
After he caught his breath Jack Ross asked, �
�Well, hell! L’niik, are you gay?”
The big white-furred male blinked, smiled and looked askance his once-human friend. “Thanks to your help, Jack, I’m quite happy now, but females are still my choice for sex, and I like our females best.”
Over the peals of raucous human laughter Jack Ross managed to say, “What he’s referring to is undoubtedly not what you’re thinking, but it is a personal matter that I won’t elaborate on. But what I will say to all of you is—thanks. You’ve proved to me that I have some of the best friends a man—or an H’kaah—could ever wish for.” He swept the room with a piercing golden-eyed gaze. “And if my improving eyesight is any indicator, life’s looking a whole lot better than it did a few hours ago.” He suddenly looked grim. “Which reminds me, what’s the status of my soul-mate, D’raan?”
Eeoi’ha replied, “His mental matrix is resting comfortably in the other cybernetic box. Since your human body was failing so rapidly we decided to preserve it in stasis until such time as we can devote our undivided attention to the task of repairing the damage. When it is sufficiently restored we will transfer his mental matrix to it, being doubly sure to allow for the kinds of psychological disorientation you experienced upon waking in a form unfamiliar to you.”
Jack Ross softly whispered into one of Eeoi’ha’s small round ears, “Do those box devices have any form of external audio or video pickups?” When he got only a puzzled stare in return he quietly explained, “I need to know if there is any way those things can pick up sounds or visual information from this room at this particular time.”
The Mn’rii scientist thought for a moment, then carefully said, “Since all the controls on them require tactile input, and there were no audio or video sensors in their construction inventories, friend Jack, I believe they can neither hear nor see us. Still, we don’t know all that much about them.” He peered at the two machines as they rested silently on a nearby table. “For all we know they may possess the ability to fly to distant worlds without using ships, or—perhaps they can simply read our thoughts.” His expression told Ross that he was dead serious. He also looked more than a little bit frightened.
“Just on the outside chance that they can see and/or hear what’s going on here in this room,” Ross whispered, being careful to keep his back to the machines, “I’ll make only this comment: It’s possible that D’raan isn’t resting as comfortably as you think. I know I certainly didn’t.” When the scientist looked shocked Ross made calming motions and softly added, “More on this later, when we’re in a secure location.”
During the next few hours Ross further “settled into” his new body, becoming familiar with his visual and auditory equipment the same way one gets used to driving a new car. Before he realized he was doing it he began to automatically orient his ears toward sounds or conversations that interested him, and his vision sharpened well beyond what he was accustomed to. Humans and H’kaah shared similar visual characteristics, and D’raan’s body was much younger, relatively speaking, than Ross’ had been. Its eyes, therefore, besides being relatively larger, were substantially better in every way than Ross’ human ones.
One thing was plainly apparent to all present; the dark-furred male H’kaah was a totally different person from what he had been only hours earlier. Completely absent was the normal H’kaah timidity, a character trait the body’s original occupant had displayed to everyone before the procedure began. The male H’kaah now standing before them literally radiated self-confidence, his eyes steady, his voice strong, his demeanor one of a person accustomed to getting things done. Everybody there unconsciously admitted to themselves that Jack Ross had, indeed, been reborn into a new form.
The visitors and their Mn’rii hosts had retired to more comfortable quarters as the evening approached, and there the matter of feeding the three species came up. “We humans are game for most anything,” Cory Ross carefully stated to the Mn’rii scientists, “but our H’kaah friends have understandable dietary, um, concerns.”
“Jesus H. Christ,” the H’kaah-bodied Ross drawled in exasperation. “There’s no need to make a federal case out of dinner.” He looked around before stating, “Some of us are omnivores, the rest are vegetarians. Anybody have a problem with digging into a nice, hearty salad tonight and skipping animal flesh? No? I didn’t think you would.” He smiled, adding, “Still, if the facts were known, numerous vegetarian species are quite capable of eating animal flesh, and many sneak a bite or two to supplement their diet.” To most of his audience’s shocked expression he only said, “Even our Earth lapin cousins are known to vary their veggie diet with a bit of high-protein meat when the opportunity presents itself; they just don’t hunt it down.”
Trudy Bond looked as appalled as most of the H’kaah, and said, “Dad, you’re kidding, right?”
“Not at all, Kitten. Earth hares, in particular, seldom pass up a reasonably fresh, tasty morsel if someone else has done the hard work of killing it. Hell, bears mainly eat berries and such, but as true omnivores they enjoy a meat entrée when it’s not too much trouble.” Before the young woman could protest the analogy the dark H’kaah explained, “I know, I know—we H’kaah are supposed to be ‘gentle plant eaters’, and with dental work like this—” he bared and clacked his white, rabbit-like teeth, “—it would be tough to bring down dinner on-the-hoof.” He grinned, adding, “Still, when was the last time you made use of your own predator-style dental work to rip and slash the life out of anything beyond the restaurant rib eyes and sirloins you and Wes serve your dinner patrons?”
The young woman looked sheepish, then grinned as she shook her head. “You got me again, Dad. I should have known better than to take you on.”
Smiling and clasping the young woman on the shoulder, the dark-furred H’kaah said, “On Earth, I was careful not to eat flesh in front of S’leen since I knew it would make her uncomfortable.” S’leen and C’maat nodded while F’haan shuddered. “See, just the thought of eating flesh gives our females the willies,” he stated, nodding toward F’haan as the group settled into the utilitarian kitchen/dining area. Jack Ross began preparing a bowlful of mixed greens and said, “Still, if I ever make it back to Earth I plan to wolf down a Big Mac as soon as it’s convenient.” He suddenly grinned. “If my belly rebels and I puke my ‘all-beef patties’, so be it. It’ll still be an interesting experiment.” He presented the bowl of salad to S’leen and began filling one for himself.
Cory Ross and the other humans all looked surprised, then the younger Ross carefully ventured, “Uh, Dad, what do you mean by, ‘—If you ever make it back to Earth’?” When the dark H’kaah paused, human-style salad tongs in hand, the young man added, “Has there been a change of plans?”
Jack Ross barked a laugh as he resumed filling his bowl, saying, “I don’t know what ‘plans’ you’re talking about, Cory. The grim reality was that I—my human self—was dying. L’niik told me my Mn’rii friends were willing to try plugging my mental matrix into the body of a condemned H’kaah. Hell, to avoid the grim reaper I jumped at the chance.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I figured that if the crazy transference worked I’d worry about the details of what I was going to do with my second chance at life once the dust settled.”
C’maat had been quiet through most of the procedure, but she finally felt she had to speak up. “Jack, you must return to Earth and resume your work! Without your guidance this…this entire project will collapse!”
“Dear,” he gently said, “as far as everybody back on Earth is concerned, ‘Jack Ross, the man’, gasped his last in the hospital. In addition to a small identity problem should I show up saying, Hi, I’m Jack Ross! Although you can see that I’ve changed a little, you can just ignore the ears, fur and the fluffy tail perched above my little black butt! there’s the slight problem of certain ‘hostile elements’ who will continue trying to make Jack Ross very dead.
“Remember, if D’raan gets to live again in my old human form, he’ll have to have a whole new identity.” H
e looked pointedly at the Mn’rii scientists and stated, “Since we don’t even know right now just how stable this whole process is, I don’t think we want the public knowing that cybernetic boxes exist, either. Think of what an uproar that would create.” The black-furred head with the golden ponytail shook sadly as he added, “‘Jack Ross, the man’ is dead, and right now ‘Jack Ross, the H’kaah’ doesn’t know what he’s going to do to earn a living.”
Nolan Green wasn’t going to give up that easily. “It’s simple, Jack: You go back and announce who you are; the Mn’rii and Patrons will back you on proving your identity. We’ll find a way to handle the cybernetic box problem. And as for keeping the two-legged roaches out of your pantry, Tzvi and I can see to that.”
Jack Ross shook his head, making his ears flop comically. “Nolan, old chaver, you can’t even dream of how big a can of worms such a plan would open. The religious zealots would blow an artery in ever-so-righteous rage, and the mouth-breathing racial purists would use the courts to tie Patrons into a knot. On top of that, not only would you have millions of physically handicapped and terminally ill people clambering for new human bodies, you’d have the social misfits and…and God only knows who else demanding they be given non-human bodies. And as for the roaches—they’d keep plugging away, possibly taking innocent bystanders down with their attempts at ridding the world of the dreaded ‘Black Jack Ross disease’. No, Noach, I don’t dare return to Earth without a new H’kaah identity, and at least for now staying on Earth will require being sponsored by a human patron. The only H’kaah on Earth not so attached are the political diplomats, and they’re well known to be so scared of their own shadows they generally stay confined in the H’kaah embassy compound.”
Redeeming Factors (Revised) Page 29
