A Creature of War, Book 1, CH01 (Patreon)

“Wake up.”

He opened his eyes.

He didn’t move as light blinded him, then dimmed. What he saw was unfocused for a moment, then it sharpened and he was looking at a human woman, who was looking back at him. He didn’t know what a human was, other than she was one.

She shone a light in his eyes and he blinked. He raised his hand to block it. It was covered in sandy fur with darker spots. He didn’t understand why he was covered with fur, but as the question rose, he knew it was normal. He had been made this way.

“Keep your arm down.” Her tone was even, clinical. He knew what the word meant because it was in his mind. He lowered it and when she shone the light again, he didn’t move. “Pupils responsive. How are his vital signs?”

“They’re good,” someone answered, a male voice.

He turned his head and saw a large console, with banks of machines behind it. A man was at the controls, half his body hidden by the console base. He wore a white lab coat and was looking at the readouts.

He was a doctor. As was she.

“What is your designation?” she asked.

The words spilled out without conscious effort on his part. “LRK-87, Infantry; support model. Feline classification; lynx.” His voice rumbled. He was a lynx. That explained the fur.

“Good, looks like the knowledge imprint took,” she said.

“We get less than one percent failure on that these days,” the man answered. “I don’t see why we bother testing it anymore.” It took a moment for LRK-87, yes, that was his designation, his name, to understand his tone was derisive.

“We do it because if there’s a knowledge failure on the battlefield, thousands of soldiers will die, and who do you think is going to get blamed for allowing a defective model to go active? Us. I don’t intend to get dragged before a review board. Do you?” Her tone was severe.

The man didn’t answer. She looked over her shoulder and he shook his head.

“That’s what I thought.” She took LRK-87’s hand in hers and pressed the end of his fingers, pushing the claws out. Then she bent his arm, nodding in satisfaction.

The man cursed softly.

She stiffened. “What is it?”

“The matrix shifted.”

“Another one?” surprise. That was surprise. She joined the man behind the console and looked at what he pointed. “What was he supposed to get?”

“Standard basic package for a support model; enhanced speed, strength, senses.”

“Are you sure you programmed the correct one?” she asked.

The man glared at her, but looked away before she turned to face him. “Yes, I’m sure. He’s the eighth I did today, and it’s not like this pattern is in any of the libraries.”

She sighed. “Of course, I’m sorry.” She looked at LRK-87. “That makes two dozen of them, right?”

“Twenty-six, actually.”

She nodded and looked at the display again. “Has anyone documented some kind of patterns to the shifts?”

“Not that I’m aware of. This guy’s our eighty-seventh lynx, and all the others came out as designed.” He paused to type something. “Actually, I don’t know if this qualifies as a pattern, but I don’t think there’s been more than one shifts per species’ line.”

“That’s just a coincidence. This has to be some sort of random event. Maybe a genetic drift that interacts with the matrix? Does any of the literature say anything about the twenty-five others having common genetic points?”

The man chuckled. “Of course. They found millions of commonality points. These models are based on existing animals, and even we have something like ninety-seven percent of our DNA in common with those. If the matrix is interacting with their DNA it’s going to be decades before someone works out how.”

“Have they looked at how the altered models’ DNA defers from the other ones?”

The man stifled a sigh. “They’re all different from one another. They aren’t printed, they’re grown. If not for the fact they were in tubes and their growth was accelerated, they might as well have been conceived normally.”

The woman shook her head and grumbled, “bunch of idiots. Cloning worked fine. I told them we should have gone back to that. The literature showed it was nice and predictable.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t read the last of the research that documented the two million soldiers that were wiped out when the Chinese figured out the battle model had a susceptibility to e-coli. Breeding them adds genetic strength and keeps them from falling victim to a lone genetic bomb.”

She glared at her coworker—no, subordinate. LRK-87 could read she was the one in charge by their body posture, but the man resented it.

“How do you even know that? The Chinese war ended a hundred years ago. You weren’t even born.”

The man shrugged. “I read a lot of history books.”

“Whatever. What’s the rest of the readout say? Other than the matrix, is he good to be sent out?”

“Yes, everything reads green.”

“Okay, send him out for the physical evaluation. Then he’ll probably end up at the freak lab, like the others.”

* * * * *

LRK-87 folded his ears to mitigate the sound of the other people at the firing range. Even then, the gunfire was loud enough he couldn’t keep from wincing. The two humans dressed in gray and brown uniform had him stop before a shelf with a case and ear protection. He put those on without being told, and the sound became bearable.

He stood looking at the target five hundred meters away. A humanoid form with marks at the head and heart. The case was long, which indicated it was a rifle.

“Go,” the man to his right said.

LRK-87 opened the case. With quick and precise motion took out and assembled the rifle. He put it to his shoulder, lined up with the target, and fired six shots; three in the heart, three in the head. He dissembled the rifle and put the components back in the case, then closed it.

“Three minutes, eight seconds,” the man said. “From opening to closing. Definitely not our fastest shooter.”

“Maybe not,” the other one said, “but he’s pretty damned accurate.”

The space between them and the target dummy shimmered, then changed to show a zoomed-in view of the target with readout next to it.

“Look at that. If I didn’t have the computer to tell me, I’d think he only fired one bullet at each target, not three. Not even the recoil threw off his aim. I think we have ourselves another sniper.”

“No, we’re not. There’s something wrong with him.”

“What?”

“The speed and strength tests all came back too low for what he’s supposed to do.”

“If he’s defective, why are we bothering with the shooting range? Shouldn’t they just recycle him?”

“No, he’s heading to lab 19.”

“The freak factory? So why are we wasting our time here?”

“Because they still need to know how he measures up in all the other parameters. LRK-87, go again.”

The lynx nodded and opened the case.

* * * * *

LRK-87 didn’t know what was expected of him.

He stood in the middle of a large white room. Upon arriving here, the scientist had him change out of his fatigue and into white cotton shirt and pants. They had brought him here and left.

He looked around for cameras, or another door; nothing.

He’d spent two weeks undergoing physical and mental tests, as well as close combat and more shooting tests with varying weapons. He had been one of hundreds undergoing the same tests. There had been a few other lynxes, as well as hawks, horses, bulls, dogs, cats, and other species. 

Then he’d been loaded into the back of a transport van by himself, while they were loaded in theirs in groups, and he was brought here. As soon as he’d stepped out, the scientist had taken him to get changed.

He waited for some time for instructions. When none came he called out, asking for them, but no one replied. He grew bored, but he didn’t move. The people who put him here had to have a reason for it. If they wanted him to move they would have said so.

With nothing to do physically, his mind asked questions. What was a freak? The word had no meaning for him. More than once during his tests someone commented that he was defective, but others usually contradicted them, which was when they called him a freak.

The doctors had said he was going to the freak lab and the context indicated it had to do with the matrix shift. LRK-87 didn’t know what this matrix was, but again, based on the context he expected it was related to some of the tests he had been put through. The doctors had mentioned he should have had higher strength, speed and senses, none of which he possessed.

He had watched an ostrich lift a car, a lion take down six fighting dummies almost faster than LRK-87 could follow. A rat had stepped out of her clothing and her skin had slowly changed color to match the wall she was standing against. Was that what he should have been able to do?

Was his inability to do those feats what made him defective? Would that be corrected here? The doctors had mentioned there had been twenty-five matrix shift before him. Had they been sent here also?

Was this room so they could scan him? Determine what had gone wrong? How they could repair him? There had to be something that redeemed him since he hadn’t been recycled.

So he remained still for an indeterminate amount of time. Until a woman in a lab coat came to get him. They gave him food and water. Looking at the clock on the wall, he saw it was noon. He had spent all morning in that room. When he was done eating, they led him to another room.

There, four men and four women in fatigue waited for him. Some pulled out knives, some batons and others put gloves on, then they attacked him in coordinated pairs. LRK-87 defended himself as best as he could. He quickly ascertained they weren’t trying to kill him, but they weren’t pulling their blows. He blocked and dodged, struck back to injure, not kill. He couldn’t win, they were better than him. He didn’t expect he could win, even if it were half of them.

When he fell to his knees, they stepped away, and a voice called a stop to the fighting long enough for all of them to drink and wash most of the blood off. Then the voice instructed for the fighting to start again.

When the end was called, they all had difficulty standing. The last blows hadn’t had much strength. LRK-87 had cuts on his face, arms, chest and sides. He could tell he had some cracked ribs.

A scientist, a man this time, led him to a shower to clean up, gave him clean fatigues and led him out. They were drenched by the falling rain as he limped behind the man toward the barrack. He spent the time wondering if the inability to win constituted a failure. He hadn’t dared ask, and none of the humans had volunteered information. The human indicated for him to enter the barrack, but didn’t follow him inside.

The layout was different from the barrack he had stayed in before. There had been double bunks lining each side from one end to the other, each occupied. The space had been silent, each Anthro sitting on his or her bed waiting for instructions or lights-out and sleep.

Here, there were only fifteen beds on each side, starting near the door and ending well before the middle of the space. Many of them showed signed of being occupied even if no one was on them. Covers were unmade, items were laid out on the bed, or the side table. He counted twenty-five beds that belonged to someone.

Noise came from the other end of the barrack where televisions, tables, and a seating area was setup. Others like him were there, talking, watching one of the televisions or seated around one of the tables. Music played. He limped close enough to count there were twenty-five of them, and to try to determine what they were doing, but couldn’t. So he found one of the bed that was made and had nothing on or around it and sat to wait.

He wondered why he was in this barrack. Those were clearly not military. Could they be the twenty-five the doctor had spoken of? She had implied he was like them, but he didn’t think he was; they were undisciplined. Should he go ask?

Instructions were to stay at his bunk until light’s out, but it wasn’t even dinner time. Should he really sit here and do nothing? They weren’t. He stood and hesitantly limped toward them. A cheer erupted at one of the televisions, stopping him. When no one paid him any attention he started again.

“Hey, we got another one,” a horse with shiny black fur pointed in his direction and LRK-87 froze. “Looks like they put him through the ringer too.”

The eagle looked him over. “We all went through that.”

A leopard chuckled. “I think you mean he went through the wash.”

LRK-87 looked down at himself. He wasn’t dripping anymore, but he was still wet, his fur matted down. He didn’t have anything to dry himself with.

“Did they figure out what you can do?” a dalmatian asked.

He looked at him uncertain what he meant.

“Speak up,” the ostrich said, “only one of us can read minds.”

“They didn’t tell me.”

That made them laugh.

“Trust me,” the tigress said. “You won’t need them to tell you.” She pointed to a donkey and he rose in the air with a scream of surprise and flayed about.

“Damn it CM, put me down. You know I hate it when you do that.” He drifted down until he was half sprawled on and off the couch. Grumbling he sat properly.

LRK-87 gawked. “Can you all do that?”

More laughter.

“Of course not,” a rat half his size said. “We all do something different. That’s why we’re all here at the freak lab, so they can try to figure out why it is we can do what we do. What’s your name?”

“LRK-87.”

“Drop the number,” the rat said, “you aren’t among them anymore. You’re not a designation, you’re unique. I’m EKL, but I prefer being called Eek.”

“I—I guess I’m LRK, then. What can you do?”

The rat smiled and stood. “Bear, you have something you can use?”

A mouse a head taller than the rat grinned and pulled a metal bar out from under her seat.

The rat eyed her. “You were ready? Did you know something I didn’t?”

She gave him an innocent look. “Me? What ever makes you think that?” Her voice was almost as deep as the rat, Eek.

“Right, let’s get on with it then.”

“How do you want it?”

Eek patted the top of his head. “No need to send me flying through a wall this time.

She stood next to him and brought the bar down hard on the rat’s head. There was a loud ringing clang and the bar bent around the impact point. She pulled it up and the rat finger combed his fur back in place.

“I can’t be hurt. They’ve shot me, tried to crush me, even used a flame thrower. I feel the impact or the heat, but no pain, and they can’t break my skin or my bones.” He pointed to the mouse. “Bear’s stronger than anything they’ve measured before.”

She smiled and pulled the metal bar straight.

“Bear?” LRK asked.

“BRF,” she answered.

“I’m VDK,” the bull said, stepping before the lynx. “Give me your hand.”

LRK did so and watched in amazement as the cuts on his body healed. All his pains went away and when the bull let go, the lynx could move easily and none of his ribs hurt.

“So everyone here can do something different? How did you find out?”

‘It depends,’ a voice said, deep and resounding. LRK looked around, trying to determine where it came from. ‘It’s different for each of us.’ A black and white house cat raised his hand. ‘I’m the one talking to you. And for me it was the empty room. The silence got to be too much. I couldn’t stand it. I thought I’d go crazy, and when I heard voices all around me I thought I had, but I was listening to the minds of those studying me.’

“You're talking to my mind?”

‘I am.’

“Can’t you talk?”

The cat sighed. When he spoke his voice was high and strident. “Yes, but I hate how I sound.”

LRK was stunned at the dissonance between the muscular cat and his voice. He understood why he preferred talking with his mind. That voice matched how he looked.

‘Thank you.’

The tigress stood and rubbed her hands. “Alright, show and tell is over. We have a new arrival and it’s time for me to give him a proper welcome.”

“Have fun,” the bull said.

“What does she mean?” LRK asked stepping back from her as she approached him.

“Don’t worry,” Eek answered. “We’ve all gone through it. You’re going to enjoy it.”

“You know,” a mottled gray and brown wolf said, as the tigress took LRK’s arm and led him away. “How come you guys don’t have a designated greeter for us women?”

“Because,” a voice LRK hadn’t heard before answered, “We don’t have someone who shares CM’s enthusiasm for it.”

CM placed an arm around his shoulders, keeping him from looking back to see who had spoken, and guided him to the back where hanging sheets hid six beds, themselves divided by sheets for privacy.

She silenced him with a finger on his lips before he could ask what they were doing here. She removed his wet clothing then had him lie on the bed. She removed her own then climbed over him.

He still had no idea why she was doing any of this when she began touching him, caressing him. Licking him and rubbing her breast against his body. Then the questions vanished from his minds, replaced by pleasure the likes of which he had never felt before.