by Tom Dublin
Adina's brow furrowed. "Wait - you were following me?"
"No," said Ecaterina. "Not you. The Federation has had Mosco Asdale under surveillance for a few months now, gathering evidence we could use to put him away. Then, a new face shows up. A customer the camera operator hadn't seen before. So, he called me to take a look.
Imagine my surprise to see you there..."
"Then you saw what he, and his... friend tried to do to me."
Ecaterina nodded. "And how you dealt with them. Very efficient, although some might consider your response as somewhat extreme."
"They were going to kill me!"
"So, you killed them?"
"I had no choice."
"You did have a choice," Ecaterina countered. "You could have chosen not to buy illegal drugs from a known criminal."
Adina opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again. Backing up, she slowly sat in a chair facing the couch and covered her face with trembling hands. When she pulled them away again, her eyes were wet with tears.
"I had to go there," she said softly. "I had to get my medication."
Ecaterina stood and retrieved the bag of pills from the kitchen. "This stuff is extremely dangerous, Adina," she warned. "DNA suppressants are banned for a reason, especially where nanocytes are involved."
Adina blinked back her tears. "You know what they are?"
"I do," said Ecaterina. "And, aside from being amazed by your behavior today, I'm more than a little offended. Why didn't you come to me?"
"Because you wouldn't understand," croaked Adina.
"Of course, I would," said Ecaterina. "I'm one of the few people who can understand."
Adina dropped her head, avoiding Ecaterina's accusing stare. Her shoulders shaking as she sobbed quietly.
Ecaterina took advantage of the lull in the conversation to return her attention to her tablet. She tapped an icon and swiped through a collection of video files until she found the one she was looking for.
She hit play, and turned the screen around so that both she and Adina could see it.
Adina wiped her eyes and stared at the crisp, color footage in horror. The drone had shot the footage so that she and her attackers filled the frame. Two violent thugs threatening an innocent young girl.
It looked like a scene from a movie.
A movie in which she had a starring role.
"Please..." she begged as she looked away, her throat dry. But Ecaterina held the tablet steady.
"I need you to watch this," Ecaterina urged.
Adina reluctantly returned her attention to the video.
She watched as Mosco Asdale ran the blade of his knife across her chest, playing with her while the oversized woman pressed down on her shoulders, ensuring she couldn't break free and try to escape.
Mosco turned the knife in his hand, aiming the point at Adina's throat. Then he leaned in and whispered in her ear.
The camera hadn't picked up his words, but Adina couldn't forget what he had said to her.
"I'm going to enjoy this," he had hissed. "I'm going to enjoy you!"
That's when the Adina on screen raised her hands, turning them over to stare at her palms. She screamed in agony - a sound the drone's microphone had recorded.
Her cry was so sudden, it caused Mosco to take a step back. His eyes flicked nervously from left to right, looking past his vast accomplice to check that no passing Good Samaritan had heard the shout and come looking to see who it was that required assistance.
Adina cried out again as she stared down at her now trembling hands. Her palms were moving unnaturally, the skin rippling and stretching as though something was squirming around underneath.
Whoever was operating the drone must also have spotted this, as the camera zoomed in to get a closer look.
Adina turned her hands over just as her fingers began to stretch and swell, growing before her eyes. Her neatly manicured nails bulged outwards, splitting and lengthening as they became long, yellowing talons.
Her wrists grew wider, thicker, stronger; quickly followed by her hands themselves. It now looked as though she was wearing a pair of oversized gloves made of thick, cracked leather.
And then came the fur.
Just a few strands at first, sprouting from the pores over her knuckles. The hairs grew quickly, reminding Adina of the clips of time-lapse footage of pea shoots sprouting she had watched in science class at school.
Then the fur spread, like an ocean wave washing over the backs of her hands. The terrified woman flipped her palms upwards again, only to discover they were now also thickly covered with the dense, grey-brown pelt.
Finally, the transformation ended. Adina stared down at two fully-formed wolf paws, her chest heaving.
The camera pulled back out to show all three participants of this bizarre spectacle once more.
Adina looked up, straight into the panicked eyes of Mosco. He dropped his knife to the ground as he backed away, his own hands raised in a gesture of surrender.
Even the bulky, big-breasted beast behind Adina had released her gargantuan grip on her shoulders.
The drone swept through the air above the alley, stopping to hover above and behind Mosco, earning a clear view of Adina's face as it split into a wide smile. This time, its microphone caught her trenchant words.
"I'm going to enjoy this," she intoned. "I'm going to enjoy you!"
Ecaterina paused the video just as Adina's razor sharp claws carved out the majority of Mosco's fleshy throat. The scarlet shower of blood freezing in mid-air.
"How did you do it?" she asked.
Adina couldn't meet her friend's gaze. "Do what?"
"How did you only change one part of your body into your werewolf form?"
"Don't say that word!" Adina said, turning away. "I hate it!"
"Werewolf is not a bad word," Ecaterina assured her. "And being a werewolf is nothing to be ashamed of. I should know."
"It is!" Adina countered. "I have to stop myself from completely changing into that... thing ever again. I need to!"
"Why?"
Adina didn't reply.
"Why, Adina?" Ecaterina demanded. "I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on!"
Adina turned back to fix her red, swollen eyes on her friend.
"Because the first time I transformed into that thing, I killed my mother!"
Alma Nine, Aaron City, Department of Justice, Parole Offices
Vix Mil was in the midst of typing up an urgent report when the tap came on her office door.
She paused, closing her eyes for a moment as she wondered whether to remain silent and pretend she wasn't at her desk. The report she was working on was due to be delivered an hour ago, and an entire court case had been paused while she wrote it.
The knock came again, causing Vix Mil to sigh. She didn't have any appointments down in her diary, so she could just hide away. If she refused to answer, whoever was out there might go away, leaving her to type the final page of this extremely urgent document. Or, they might try the door - which, as always, she'd left unlocked.
If she was caught hiding away - no matter how honorable the reason - she would almost certainly get into trouble with her superiors, and that was something she didn't want to happen.
Sighing softly, she saved the document and switched off the screen of her computer. Not yet knowing the identity of her visitor, she didn't want anyone catching a glimpse of something they shouldn't see.
Vix Mil replied on the third knock. "Come in!"
She continued as the handle lowered and the door swung open. "I'm so sorry - I was lost in concentration and didn't hear anyone-"
Her voice trailed away as she realized exactly who her unexpected caller was. He stood on the other side of the desk, smartly dressed in an expensive suit, and wore his silver hair streaked with flashes of gold.
"Hen Wic," she said, gesturing to the visitor's chair. "I didn't expect you so soon. I take it you got the message I left for you yesterday."
"So I've heard," replied Vix Mil, opening a drawer in her desk and sliding out a thin folder. She flipped open the cover to examine the single-page document inside. "Consistently polite to guards and fellow inmates, a job in the prison library, and even teaching the Governor's daughter to ride her bicycle."
"What can I say?" said Hen Wic with a shrug. "I'm a people person."
Vix Mil closed the folder and sat back in her chair. "Not when you were busy intimidating members of the jury in the Loz May case," she commented.
Hen Wic's easy smile didn't so much as flicker. "I've changed," he said. "Serving time showed me the error of my ways. And, now I presume you calling means you've been assigned as my parole officer. Everybody wins."
"Actually, one of us doesn't win," said Vix Mil, retrieving the only other item inside Hen Wic's file. A color photograph. She flipped it around for her guest to examine. "You were spotted outside the home of the judge who convicted Loz May and his accomplices.
"As you'll be aware, that's a clear breach of the terms of your parole."
Hen Wic snatched the photograph and studied it. "That's not me!" he protested, stabbing at it with a finger. "It could be anyone!"
"We have several independent witnesses," said Vix Mil with a sigh. "We know you were watching the judge's house, and I cannot imagine you wanted to help either of his children with their bike riding skills."
She reached over to press a button beside her communicator on the desk. "I don't want to do this, Hen Wic, but I'm duty bound."
Before Hen Wic could respond, the office door opened and a pair of burly security guards stepped into the room.
"These gentlemen will escort you to a holding cell downstairs while I contact the necessary authorities for your return to jail."
"You can't!" spat Hen Wic as the guards took him by the arm and forced him to stand. "I've served my time. I'm an innocent man!"
"Please could you close the door?" Vix Mil asked one of the guards as they turned to lead their prisoner away. The larger of the two men nodded and did as he was asked.
Hen Wic continued to rant and shout as he was escorted away through the outer offices.
Vix Mil calmly returned the file to her desk drawer, then she switched her computer screen back on, and continued work on her report.
6
Federation Base Station 11, Residential Zone 7, Sycamore Block
It was Ecaterina's turn to be silent. When she finally spoke, her voice was little more than a whisper.
"You killed your mother?!"
"It was my 13th birthday," Adina explained. "Until then, I had no idea I was... you know..."
"Wechselbalg," Ecaterina put in.
Adina nodded. "Right. That. No-one knew. There hadn't been a changeling in my family for generations, and the few people who had been told that our ancestors had once possessed those abilities had put the story down to rumor and superstition."
"So, what happened?"
"My mom had made some party food to celebrate my becoming a teenager," Adina continued. "Nothing fancy, just some snacks for a few friends and relatives. Then, when it came time to blow out the candles on my birthday cake, I leaned too far over it and the ends of my hair caught fire."
She paused, her eyes slipping out of focus momentarily as she relived the traumatic event.
"My Uncle Yousuf batted the flames out with his hands. I wasn't hurt in any way, but I panicked, and that must have been what kick-started the changes."
Ecaterina reached out to take Adina's hands in hers. "You began to transform?"
"I don't remember much after that - just flashes and images and sounds. I heard everyone scream, I saw them run. All except my mom. She stayed with me. She tried to help, but..."
Adina pulled her hands free and pressed her palms over her eyes, her body wracking with sobs.
Ecaterina could only wait until Adina had control of her tears and was ready to continue her story.
"When I came ‘round, there was blood everywhere," she blubbed. "My mom was lying beside me, and she was... she was..."
Ecaterina climbed off the couch and knelt before her friend, wrapping her arms around the girl and holding her tight. "It's OK," she soothed, stroking Adina's hair. "It's OK."
"At her funeral, my dad told me he wanted nothing more to do with me," Adina wailed into Ecaterina's shoulder. "He said I'd destroyed his life, and he never wanted to see me ever again.
Uncle Yousuf took me in. He was so kind, so caring. He tried to get me help, to teach me how to deal with what I was. But I wanted none of it, so he tracked down somewhere to buy those pills for me. The ones that stop me from changing.
I've been taking them ever since."
Adina pulled away, grabbing her discarded blood-drenched shirt and using one of the few clean spots to dry her tears.
"I tore my family apart," she said dispassionately. "All because of that thing.
"And, today, that thing stopped you from being violently raped and murdered," Ecaterina reminded her. "I can't imagine how painful it must have been forcing yourself to change form while under the effect of DNA suppressants."
Adina shrugged. "So, what now?"
Ecaterina brushed Adina's bangs out of her eyes. "Station security will report exactly what happened," she explained. "The drugs, the attack, and how you resolved the situation."
"Will I go to jail?" asked Adina, gazing at the older woman through tousled locks of hair, looking for all the world like a lost little schoolgirl.
"I expect not," Ecaterina admitted, pulling Adina in for another hug. "I'll be fighting for you, insisting you had no choice but to fight back in the only way you knew how, along with managing who sees the report, but..."
She sighed heavily.
"You were in danger because you were engaged in criminal activity and, at the very least, it could be decided that you aren't capable of looking after yourself."
"So, they'll lock me in some hospital instead of a jail cell," groaned Adina, pulling back and staring at the floor. "I'm shafted, aren't I?"
Ecaterina gently took hold of Adina's chin and lifted her face up to meet hers. She was smiling.
"Not if it turns out you were there working undercover for me..."
Federation Base Station 11, All Guns Blazing, Upper Level
People screamed and ran, overturning chairs and tables, coating the polished wooden floor with a mix of broken glass and spilled alcohol.
Near to the bar, a group of pink-skinned girls raced for the nearest exit. Immediately behind them, a shirtless Shrillexian waddled as quickly as the pants pulled down around his knees would let him.
Jack stared at the contraption strapped to Dollen's chest.
It was a vest made from some off-white material, onto which were sewn pockets stuffed with bricks of what appeared to be harmless grey clay. However, the colored wires connecting the clay blocks together and the blinking LED light suggested they were something far more sinister.
The wires continued down the inside of Dollen's right coat sleeve, where they ended at a black plastic box, about the size of an old-fashioned cellphone. A red button protruded from the top of the gadget, above which the Baloreon's thumb now hovered.
The pounding music stopped, and a thundering silence flooded the bar.
Jack felt his throat go dry. "That's..."
Nathan nodded. "Enough explosive to take out this entire bar..."
"...and a good portion of the docks, as well," finished Dollen. "Unless you agree to my demands."
The Baloreon was visibly shaking now, and Jack kept a close eye on his nervously twitching thumb. One false move, and this would be the last conversation any of them would ever have.
Nathan flicked a glance towards the windows in the main doors and was relieved
to see figures in black armor already on the scene outside. Some of them helped to evacuate terrified shoppers from the mall while others took up positions around the bar, weapons drawn and ready.
Jack tried to work out how he'd come to bring a suicide bomber right into the heart of the Etheric Federation.
He and Tc'aarlat had met Dollen while delivering a shipment of medical supplies to a recently occupied moon in the Taserra Quadrant. He claimed to have been working as a navigator on board a passenger shuttle, but said he had overslept after a night of heavy drinking with a handful of locals.
He'd woken on a stranger's couch, then raced to the docks in an effort to get to his ship before it left. He missed the departure by minutes and was now stranded.
Jack spotted him wandering the loading bays, asking the captains of various ships if they could give him a lift to the nearest transport hub in return for working with their crew.
Despite the ICS Fortitude having three more deliveries to make before they would be close enough to anywhere where Dollen could arrange passage back to his home world, Jack was happy to take on an extra pair of hands.
It transpired that, not only was Dollen a hard worker when it came to loading and unloading cargo, he was also an experienced navigator. And so, Jack and Tc'aarlat had offered their new friend a full-time job.
But, the whole thing appeared to have been a clever ruse. A cold-hearted ploy, devised purely to get inside one of the Etheric Federation’s bases.
Jack had been tricked by a terrorist, but he wasn't going to allow himself to be used by this bastard any longer.
"Take it easy," he said to the jittery bomber, glancing quickly at both Tc'aarlat and Nathan to check they were willing to back him up. "Tell us what you want, and we'll do our best to help you."
Yeah, thought Jack, we'll do our best to send you straight to the fires of Hell you shit-sucking piece of trash!
With a trembling hand, the Baloreon pulled a crumpled sheet of paper from his left jacket pocket, unfolded it with his fingers, and began to read.
