Story - The Perfect Evolution

[wolfman-al]

Very good!
I love how this part of the story works out in the final version.

[BlazingBarrager]

Now this is a story that I'm really enjoying. This is also the FMG and TF that I can live with.

[GearRyu]

Chapter 5
?All my life I?ve been over the top
I don?t know what I?m doing,
All I know is I don?t wanna stop
All fired up, I?m gonna go till I drop
You?re either in or in the way, don?t make me,
I don?t wanna stop?
~Ozzy Osbourne, ?I Don?t Wanna Stop?

Excelsior Overload
The quiet forest air was doing Cranberry some good. Sure, she had awoke this morning to find that her bed was a little bit too small for her. It had been a tad discomforting to put on one of the shirts and jeans that she bought yesterday and find that they fit right. Right for a normal person of the size they were intended for, many centimeters taller and curvier than Cranberry had been just three days ago. Yesterday, they were baggy. Tomorrow, well? she would pack her raincoat. So, she had showered, brushed her teeth, gotten dressed, leaned over to look into the mirror, grabbed her suitcase (which also contained the hologram beside her other belongings), and walked out of her dorm into the wide world; a place where there were no door frames that you had to duck slightly under for fear of cracking your skull or, more likely, busting, along with the nearest object not fused to the ground.

About an hour had passed since she first left the borders of Megafrankfurt. She left at a running pace. Ahead, she saw the mountains that Lola described yesterday. They looked relaxing enough. She had put on another burst of speed, astounding herself at the rate which she continued to speed up. There seemed to be no limit to it, and she indulged herself, losing track of time as she listened to Pachbell?s Canon thrumming in her ears. When she reached the forest at the base of the mountains, she slowed down to enjoy a walk. She felt more relaxed now, away from the chaotic closeness of the city. She even turned off her music and listened to her environs. Birds chirped and trees rustled in a cool morning breeze. Somewhere on the nearest road, cars were shooting off into the distance. Aside from the strange humming that she heard coming from somewhere far off, she felt comfortable. And the humming was certainly continuing to get closer.

The hum was not animal or natural and was disconcertingly monotonous. It became louder by the second and its discord was increasingly unsettling. The hum broke into a rumble that roared and shook the treetops with its approach. Cranberry?s teeth chattered in her head as she ducked for cover. Whatever was coming wasn?t anything she knew. She wanted to see what it was. Not a car, she figured, peeking over the top of a protruding boulder; they could not fit very well through the trees. Yet, it was too loud to be anything short of something powerful, she concluded as her eyeballs danced in their sockets. Whatever it was, it was still getting closer. She could even see it now, despite the obfuscating shadows; a gleaming silver-red speck surrounded by infinitesimal objects, leaves probably, which resembled nothing more than some form of motorcycle. It glided through the air, low to the ground, and resolved itself quickly to Cranberry from a distance, though at its present rate, even normal eyes would have picked it out soon. The rising sunlight glinted off its crimson paint and smeared the vehicle with a ghostly glaze. And just like that, in the twinkling of an instant, Cranberry felt herself knocked off her feet. Her head snapped upward to see the awesome sight of the craft hovering beside her.

Silver-base paint; red overlay; sleek design, could probably navigate a crowded street; narrow, but a little long; anti-grav (obviously), but with piping suggesting something far more than casual use; thing looked beat and scratched, even scorched, with nothing suggesting regular wear-and-tear; big enough to seat one person, whomever was in the driver?s seat wearing the black jumpsuit and helmet, laughing. The machine was loud, too, too loud, intentionally maybe. Maybe the driver would just pass by. Cranberry just wanted to be alone. Where was a heavy rock when you needed one? Maybe she could lift the boulder?

The driver spoke through a speaker port. ?You?re on my mountain. Race me or get off.? Female. Tense. Serious.

Crap. Cranberry peeked out over the boulder. ?And I want to risk breaking my neck or seeing you crash because??? She looked a little less than optimistic, but she was feeling that funny red feeling in the back of her head again. The boulder-tossing suddenly didn?t feel like such a bad idea.

?You win, spend the night at my place. Nice, you?ll like it. You lose or refuse, I?ll ram you right off the mountain.? Pleasant but dead serious. The craft kept humming. Had to make a decision right now. Possible reward versus threat of bodily harm. Easy choice, sort the details out later.

?Okay?? Cranberry slid out from behind the boulder. ?Only because you insist?? Maybe it was time to see what she was really capable of. Cranberry gripped the suitcase handle, leaving an indent. The wind rushed past them. An engine flared and footpads kicked dirt from the forest duff. They surpassed the gale.

And so they raced.

**

The defining characteristic of the cheetah sphinx is its base land speed. The average untrained cheetah sphinx is more than capable of outstripping anything short of a human Olympic runner, even at short distances. Their incredible speed and considerable endurance enable them to keep pace with, or surpass, some modern cars. When consumed by rage, it is believed that such speeds are increased tremendously, but practically speaking, this has proved untestable since there has never been a known case where a sphinx has been capable of maintaining the benefits of rage and sanity simultaneously.

The modern car is both fairly fast and safe. Some older models produce an unpleasant white noise. It is possible to soup-up a vehicle or remove the noise inhibitor. However, the former is limited to subsonic speeds in commercial vehicles and anything at Mach 1 or above is heavily restricted in private business and government use. Removing noise inhibitors, particularly on souped-up machines, is illegal in many cities, since the resulting noise can be very loud and, when speed passes a certain threshold, unbearably so.

They were defying nature and law when they broke the sound barrier.

**

Cranberry felt exhilarated. She skirted past boulders and kicked off against trees as the wind whipped at her body, tugged at her clothes, rattled against the suitcase. Something tore ? maybe the wind did it. She felt frigid cold to the muscle, penetrated by searing knives of the hottest frost. Treeline-piercing sunlight twinkled and danced to the tune of the forest oblivion; the world was a fire and shadow. The glint of metal to her right periscoped into her field of vision and shrieked with the fading boom of a techno-orchestra and the hissing laughter of the engines. Trees shattered in its wake and the ground trembled beneath its shadow. The race faded into hypnotic darkness in the blind absence of sound and the numbing surgical knives of the atmosphere.

Then?

? the darkness exploded into dust and ruin and the sound of the world slung back and caught up with her.

[wolfman-al]

This is really, really great!

[BlazingBarrager]

Ditto.

[GearRyu]

Glad you guys are continuing to enjoy it. Also, yay, over 1200 views! There are threads with attachments that do not have that many! This is partially how I judge success. Almost any thread with an attachment is going to pass 1K. People will usually click just to see if the thread has any pretty (and, admittedly, very pretty at times) pictures. It takes a lot of effort to support something based entirely on text. But, hey, Incubusted is the most-viewed story thread ever written here, so I feel confident I can pull off another big one.

Guys, really, thank you a lot for continuing to read the story. It means a lot to me that you are enjoying this.

Now, have at it with Chapter 6. The adventure continues! (And the growth... that continues too).

Chapter 6
?I was only having fun
Wasn?t hurting anyone
And we all enjoyed the weekend for a change?
You may be right
I may be crazy
But it just may be a lunatic you?re lookin? for?
-Billy Joel, ?You May be Right?

Rags and Riches
Somewhere within the dilapidated mansion?s passages, a shattering noise dully rang out upon aged tile. The faces of the mansion, weathered by time?s passing, had long since fallen into disrepair. Bits of wire and pipeline hung out between splintering warped pieces of wood. Roof tiling had been crushed or removed, or had grown over with so much vinery as to be lost in the tangling veinous confusion. One more hole in the wall would hardly deserve more than a passing comment of curious interest ? the look a passerby gives to a pile of stones that may have once been a statue or to a heap of junky parts that may have been a vehicle.

The smoke had practically settled by the time they regained consciousness. They were sweating as they came to, the dull throbbing heat of an engine still chugging away pounding on their bodies. Somewhere off to the side, a suitcase was flung open, its contents mercifully undamaged. Together, the two dazed figures pulled themselves free of the wreckage in silence as they tried to recall just what happened.

As Cranberry pulled herself together, she recalled the last moment of the race. The other woman had been shouting something? pointing ahead(?), distracting her. There was the mansion wall. Did she swing into the motorcycle or did the motorcycle swing into her? Wait, was the driver alive? Yes, Cranberry saw her rising from the debris, seemingly unfazed. Incredible. Cranberry turned to notice her suitcase? still there. Everything seemed to be in order. She brushed off her jacket, adjusted her fedora (thank God it somehow stayed on) and tugged at the collar of her shirt, which ripped as she vented it. Cranberry suppressed a snarl of frustration as she examined her clothing. Her running shoes had peeled apart, exposing her large footpads; her jeans had broken the seams in several places; her shirt likewise. It was more than that her chest or her hips might have swollen (if they did?). Looking down at the ground, looking at a tree, she realized that she cared more for the obvious fact that she had just suddenly grown several centimeters again. She felt vigorous, too. The run hadn?t worn her out a bit. Beneath the fur, she was rippling with hidden strength. It felt wonderful and a little scary. And frustrating. Her claws dug into the shirt, threatening to tear it asunder, and beginning to rip it, when-

?Well, that was fun!? The strange woman removed her helmet and laughed. Cranberry slipped her arms behind her back and gripped the wrist of the hand that had been busy. Her shirt tore a little more and her breasts bounced. She took a deep breath and immediately regretted it. ?You?re the first person to keep up with me in, heh, I don?t remember how long. Well, thank God for expensive safety devices. Anyway, the point is we?re both still alive, mm?? The woman was athletically toned, but not bulky. If anything, she was a little skinny and short, at least from Cranberry?s perspective.

The woman?s fair-skinned face wore a smile of good cheer supporting at least a modicum of haughtiness. Her golden-blonde hair was a wild mess; frazzled and falling across her shoulders. She looked a little tired but her blue eyes gleamed with a fervent spark of energy. As she assessed the damage to the motorcycle and the mansion, she brushed her hands through her hair. Then she slipped her arms behind her head and interlaced her fingers. ?Not bad?? She grinned. She sounded a bit rough, but her voice was educated. ?Not bad at all? a little bit of destruction is pretty artistic if you ask me. Well,? she turned sharply and faced Cranberry. ?I didn?t think you?d really be able to even keep up with me, but a deal?s a deal. Welcome to my home sweet home. Come inside. I?ll show you around the place. You?ll love it.? She started to walk through the wreckage.

?Wait, hold on a minute?? Cranberry tried to hold her with her gaze, but the crazy woman kept walking. Cranberry ran over to her suitcase, rapidly put up all of her clothes, and started following the woman again. ?Your home? Who are you??

At that question, the other girl turned her head to look at Cranberry and slowed her pace. ?My name?s Sandra. The Speed Freak.? She was grinning. ?You might have heard about me on the news??

?On the news?? Cranberry tried to recall. She was a little out of touch with reality sometimes. After studying for the entire day, she usually went home and crashed. She had taken a course on Current Events a couple semesters ago, but that didn?t really cover entertainment, which is what she figured this probably was about. ?I am sorry, no. Are you involved in competitions?? If she did, Cranberry thought, she probably did not make much. This entire place looked horrible. Did the woman seriously live here? She should probably leave but her curiosity was piqued and, beside the fact she realized she was probably strong and fast enough to take the woman out if need be, Cranberry didn?t have a good excuse.

?Ah? sort of. I guess you could say I?m, heh, an internationally famous professional world traveler? okay, that?s a mouthful. I like to travel. China, the Americas, European Union, Africa ? I?ve seen it all. But Germany will always be my home sweet home. Now, lemme show you around. S?cuse the mess. I usually don?t do much with this part of the place.?

Now that she was inside, Cranberry saw that the mansion seemed purposely organized toward chaos. There was no illumination, save for what sunlight poured through the bayview windows. Vermin were afoot, scurrying through the place as if they owned it. Cranberry could hear them, even if she didn?t see any around here. There were tables and chairs set up in one of the rooms she passed along the hallway they were walking down. They looked like antiques and were, in fact, covered in dust tarps. Many of the things here were in likewise condition. The most peculiar thing was that not all the antiques matched. There were urns from China, paintings from Europe, a number of tribal statues. It seemed as if some collector had thought to store all her goods here and then simply forgot about them.

?So, you?re a sphinx, huh? Hm? you know, you look kind of peculiar. You?re a cheetah sphinx, right??

?? Yes?? Cranberry hated it when people brought this up. She hated being dissected like something out of a text book.

?Aren?t you a ?little? tall though? I mean? really, y?know? Not that I?m complaining. You look amazing. In better shape than me, I bet.? She laughed. They turned a corner, past a part where the hallway had collapsed.

?Yes, that is right. I am a little bit different from most of my kind,? Cranberry admitted with a bit of frustration. ?I do not like to dwell on it?? She kicked aside a broken crystalline glass that had somehow wandered into the hallway.

?Oh, yes, I understand completely.? Sandra stopped at what appeared to be a dead end. ?Anyway, you really were impressive. You?re cool with staying the night, right? I don?t often get to sit and chat with someone, heh.? She leaned against the back wall.

?I suppose so,? Cranberry acknowledged. ?I am on Winter Break from my studies. I have nothing else planned.?

?Wonderful!? Sandra pressed against the back panel of the wall and pressed her index finger against some hidden cranny. There was a little click and the door slid away from one of the adjacent walls and slipped into the other, revealing a hidden passageway with a set of wooden stairs leading down. It looked a little cramped to Cranberry. ?Hey, you?re going to be able to fit all right??

?Yes,? which was a bit of a lie. She would be bending her head, tilting her shoulders. ?I will not have a problem. But what is down there? I do not visit too many mansions with sliding panel doors, strange furniture, and world-renowned hosts?? She tried a little laugh. Well, her humor was pathetic, so maybe the transformation was over. And maybe she?d magically develop a new set of clothes.

**
Downstairs, the mansion was remarkably different. The air was sterile and the place was well-illuminated by recessed lighting. The flooring was dark red marble tiles and the paneling was a deep cherry wood. They had descended several meters underground and the ceiling here was remarkably vaulted. There were several doors leading off left and right and a single one directly in front of them. Most of the doors were wooden like the paneling, but the one at the far end was a double-set metallic door. Against the wall to the right of it, there was a code key panel. Cranberry could hear something behind the door humming. A generator?

?So, yeah, heh, this is my real home,? Sandra explained. ?It?s kind of small, which is why I keep most of my souvenirs upstairs.?

?You mean to tell me you actually traveled worldwide to gather those objects? Pardon my saying, but you must have some good fortune.?

?Well, sorta.? Sandra?s voice assumed a slightly frustrated tone. ?My bike doesn?t require much to keep it running and it takes a lot to actually damage it, so I can take it across the world. You should see it on ocean travel. Hey, are you fast enough to run on water??

?I never thought about it before.? Cranberry considered. After all she had seen, the answer seemed obvious, incredible as it sounded even to her. ?Yes, I could.?

?Neat. We?ll race across the Atlantic sometime then. It?s a done deal. Anyway, I win prizes in international competitions, sell some of the things I pick up in one place to some other place, run errands for people, that sort of thing.?

Cranberry was examining the room while Sandra was contemplating the doors. Cranberry asked, ?And this place??

Sandra opened one of the doors, revealing a red-carpeted room with similar paneling to the main hallway. Recessed lighting flickered on, revealing a bed, bookshelf, armoire, and another door (bathroom?). ?Well, my ancestors built it and I lived in it with my parents when I was a kid. Heh. We kind of fell on bad times and had to move out to Megafrankfurt for a while?? She gestured for Cranberry to step into the room and examine it.

She did so. ?But this place down here. It is so different from the rest of the mansion. Was it added later??

Hesitation. ?My brother got a well-paying job in the city. When he made enough money, he paid to have this bunker restored. It was built in a war a long time ago. It?s actually really nice. Has a study and a large work area where I can tool with my bike. Couldn?t ask for anything more convenient.?

Cranberry examined the bookshelf. Mostly books on mechanical engineering, cybernetics, history. ?And your brother. Does he live here too??

?There?s a bathroom through the door on the back wall,? Sandra replied, ignoring the question. ?Feel free to look around. I?ve gotta go check the generator and water reservoir. I?ll come by to check on you. Then I?ll have to see about getting my bike.?

Cranberry heard Sandra?s feet quickly retreating. ?I will?? Cranberry turned to look. ?? help.? Was it something about her brother? Why did she use the past tense? Dead? ? Maybe it was best to leave Sandra alone for the moment. Cranberry decided she would examine the bathroom, then unpack her suitcase.

**
The rest of the day proceeded at a leisurely pace. Cranberry got comfortable in her new surroundings. The ceiling in the bedroom was lower than the vaulted ceiling of the atrium, the doorways were almost inexcusably cramped, and the bed was relatively tiny compared to her height, but she couldn?t complain that much. She couldn?t blame her growing problem on anybody but herself (and maybe her father; she still thought it made too little sense and had every intention to keep reviewing that hologram until it really did). At least she had a place to stay the night and was spending it was an agreeable host who didn?t seem to take any offense to her strange appearance; who seemed to have a trouble or two of her own. Together, they later moved Sandra?s bike through a hidden hatch near the mansion (Sandra mostly directed, having found Cranberry possessed an incredible amount of sheer body strength, far more than her appearance suggested, even accounting for her height and race), which led down into a spacious workshop. The shop was metal-plated and filled with many expensive machines, all of them seemingly in pristine condition, and most of them designed for something obviously more grandiose than maintaining a single vehicle, no matter how wondrous it was. Thankfully, on that regard, the bike had actually sustained little damage. They spent some time working on it, Sandra teaching Cranberry a little about maintenance, and Cranberry proving a quick study; a sponge for knowledge. If she hadn?t noticed the symbol etched on the wall, Cranberry may have been able to sleep well that night.

[wolfman-al]

^________________^

Sweeeeet! Its really working out good!

[BlazingBarrager]

Agreed.

[GearRyu]

Let's play a game...
It's called "Where have I been for the past two weeks?"
Was I fervently writing the story at a nonstop pace, turning it from a 140-page novella into an 1800 page divinely-inspired masterpiece? No. Was I just lying in my bed, sleeping, reading books, and playing videogames? How absurd! But, yes, and there's a good reason for that. I've been sick with a nasty head cold. I was originally just stopping for a couple days because I had to prepare for the weekly D&D game session that I DM for, but on that day, I got sick. Since then, I've been convalescing and in no mood to write. Sure, I could have put my fingers to the keyboard and produced something passable, but I don't want to sell myself, or you, short. Now that I am feeling better (*ka-chu* okay, not totally), I am ready to resume writing! So, let's get back on track. This chapter's a short one, but an important lead-in. Have at it, folks, and tell me what'cha think!

Chapter 7

?Wake up, it?s time
Open your eyes
You got to let her know?
~Priestess, ?Talk to Her?

To Talk of Secrets
For the umpteenth time, Cranberry was reviewing the hologram her father had sent her. She sat on her bed, hunched over, knees and elbows pressed into the mattress, and her long tail lashing back and forth. Sometimes she stopped the hologram to review something, trying to discern meaning from a turn of phrase, a small smile, a little shift. Searching up and around the corners out of hope for some missing clue to come into play. If only she could figure out what that symbol meant. Dared she ask Sandra? She had seen it earlier, but she hadn?t said anything about it for fear of? what? Getting kicked out? Losing her new friend? Getting into something deeper than she wanted to? Or maybe she was afraid to really know what was going on? Cranberry squinted, though it was unnecessary, and rolled her eyes over the little symbol.

The symbol she had seen on the wall was a spoked golden wheel. A space separated the wheel from another symbol set within it, an eyeball with a golden flame instead of an iris. The flame had been painted some iridescent coloration, which made it seem to practically glow. The entire symbol had been defaced (by Sandra?). There were dings and splashes of oil on it, but it had still stood upon the wall, watching over the entire factory.

There was a knock at the door. ?Come in!? Cranberry called out. The door opened and Sandra entered. She was dressed in casual clothes now; a pair of black jeans and a simple green shirt. She just stood at the door for a moment, drumming her fingernails along the frame and looking askance.

?Cranberry, I know you didn?t ask about it, but that symbol you saw in the workshop? do you think you might?ve seen it before?? She seemed a little upset.

?I think I have? what does it mean? It ? It might be important for ? it is important for me to know. I am sorry. I have already intruded on your home, and I know I should not be asking about such thing-?

?No,? Sandra raised a hand to stop Cranberry from continuing. ?It?s okay. I?ll? well, I?ll talk to you about it in the morning, okay? I think I?ll have to tell you a little more about me?? her tone became increasingly serious, ?and maybe I should learn a little more about you. Do you think that?s something you?ll really want??

?? Not really, no, but I do not think I can avoid it.?

?Neither can I.? Sandra began to close the door. ?See you tomorrow. Sleep well.? Sandra closed the door and Cranberry fell asleep to the sound of a generator humming.

[wolfman-al]

Good to hear that you are better. I was a tad bit woriied.
A nice short chapter.
Makes me curious.

[GearRyu]

Chapter 8

?I met a girl who sang the blues
And I asked her for some happy news
But she just smiled and turned away?
~?American Pie,? Don McLean

Broken Minds
The next morning, Cranberry and Sandra had breakfast together in a comfortably quaint living room chamber. The food was adequate, but it wasn?t astounding by any means. Sandra had kept a number of meals freeze-dried and otherwise preserved here and explained she had only recently gotten back from one of her many excursions. She seemed especially cheerful this morning. Cranberry, however, was feeling rather uncomfortable.

Even while ?asleep?, her mind had been busily at work. It had been analyzing the motorcycle, checking for any discernable inadequacies, while also considering alternative ways of outpacing it. She mentally rechecked the route they had run across yesterday morning and planned a better path. She recalled her studies over the year and began extrapolating new courses to take, or alternative methods to achieving her educational goals. And she had thought about her father again. She did not so much dream of meeting him; she dreamed of what she would actually say to him. How would he respond to this or that question? Cranberry?s entire night was a single glorified nightmare and she was happy to wake up.

She decided to wear the clothes she wore to bed last night. Laziness, no. She had taken a shower and chosen these clothes for a rather practical reason. Upon waking up, they were snug. It was either this or sleeping naked and TRYING to put these clothes on. She imagined the additional friction and sudden stretching would have resulted in far more tearing than this method had. As it stood, the shirt and jeans she wore had indeed busted a seam or two here and there, and her padded feet were forced to go barefoot (she had foolishly thought to bring only one pair of shoes; or rather, she would have, but she did NOT have the money for it). Cranberry imagined that these clothes would become increasingly uncomfortable over the day if she continued growing. By now, she felt freakishly tall. She had exceeded the bounded height of any known member of her race or the humans (if it need be said). Somehow, though, through a combination of curves and subtle relative alterations to her limbs, she retained good proportions. In truth, she simply seemed to be an impressively tall creature, whose height was natural to its existence. Although she was still a cheetah sphinx, it would have been unfair to compare her to any of her cousins of any of the sub-races. By now, she simply was whatever she was, and was all the better for it. Or so the objective analysis went.

Cranberry gripped the hologram box in her left hand as she walked through the forest alongside Sandra. It weighed nothing to her now; it was not heavy; not when she could single-handedly move a several hundred pound piece of machinery with a good heave. And not get exhausted. So the two of them walked.

?So, first, before I tell you about myself, I gotta know, Cranberry, why are you taller than you were yesterday?? Sandra tried to muster good cheer into her voice. She succeeded, underlaying it with seriousness.

?That is a little hard to explain. I do not think I fully understand it myself. I am a little different from most of my kind. My body has been undergoing some small changes??

?Small changes??

?? Well, I might be understating it a little bit, but my point is that I am changing. It is only recent, but? well, you know how hybrids might be considered modified humans?? Cranberry hated speaking of herself or any of her kind like that. But it couldn?t be avoided. Invariably, she knew she would always be compared to them; she and all like her. ?I am a modified hybrid. I am growing because? I do not have a choice.? What is that wasn?t true? What if she could stop it? ?I do not know if it will stop.?

?Really? It sounds awesome? if that?s the reason you?re able to pick up my cycle almost single-handed and keep up with my bike, I?m jealous. Heh.?

?It is not that!? Cranberry snapped, clenching her teeth into a slight snarl and squeezing her palms. Sandra stepped away. Cranberry relaxed. ?I hate this! I stand out. I cannot fit into my normal clothing. I cannot AFFORD new clothes. I am too tall to fit comfortably in most places. I feel,? she searched for the right word, ?angry!?

Sandra kicked aside a small oblong stone. It rolled into a nearby stream with a soft plop.

?Sorry. I should not get so angry, but that is part of the problem. I cannot help myself and I cannot help but wonder if my father is to blame. A man I never met. A man who sends me occasional letters and now this.? She held aloft the box for Sandra to see. ?I do not care what benefit I derive from height or strength. What do all of these things matter if they cannot make me happy? I never asked for people to pay attention to my appearance and I never wanted to be physically competitive. I would trade it back for answers and some peace.? The forest echoed with the resounding tear her jeans suddenly developed along the thighs. Cranberry closed her eyes and slammed a fist against a tree trunk. The tree bent and dislodged a fall of leaves. Birds flew from their roosts.

Sandra dodged a falling empty bird nest. She walked with Cranberry in silence for a moment while the cheetah sphinx cooled off. At last, she asked, ?Can see what?s in the box??

?Yes. I insist.?

**
After watching the recording, they were reviewing it. Sandra, at first, did not have anything to add about it. Then Cranberry pointed out the insignia.

?That. See that? I saw that on the wall in your workshop. What is it? You must know something.?

?Cranberry?? Sandra looked away. ?I do, but? are you sure you really want to know? Yeah, maybe I know something?? she looked back up at Cranberry, ?but if I tell you, I?m scared of what might happen to you. To anybody in your shoes. If I tell you what I know, you have to promise me you?ll tell me what you?re going to do. I can see it in your eyes. You?re going to do something?? And Sandra?s eyes. She wanted to do something, didn?t she?

?Please? you said you wanted to talk about it. Sandra, I am begging you here. Please tell me what you know??

And Sandra did.

**
?My brother, Thomas,? she began, and paused. Sandra stopped in her tracks and looked at the sky. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she heard the wind pass. Then she sighed gently and continued, ?was a genius with machines. I?m no match for him, never could be, and it always seemed like he was destined for something greater than?? her voice quavered, ?what happened to him.?

They continued walking for a moment. Cranberry?s tail swayed back and forth, first slow, then fast, and slow again, in undulating rhythm.

?My brother was always sickly and it became worse as he got older. I think he lied to them at Prometheus Corp about his health. Otherwise, he-? Sandra bit her lower lip and kicked a small stone to the side. ?He was qualified mentally, but physically, he was exhausting himself. But, well, he was passionate about his work and he didn?t want to give it up. I should have intervened, but, well, the money was good, and we only had each other. It was a foolish dream, but he hoped to make enough money to let us both live very comfortably. Still, it couldn?t last? but he insisted on it. That?s when, working, he was approached by them. The Scorching Eye. They?re the elite researchers at Prometheus Corp and their symbol is the one you saw in my workshop and the one I saw on your hologram.?

Was it a chill that Cranberry felt?

?Dr. L?mmle was the one who made the actual offer and I?ll never forgive him for what he did to my brother. He gave him a job working in the Scorching Eye?s mechanical engineering division. In exchange, he wanted to,? she slammed a fist against a tree. Higher up, a bird twittered and flew away. The wind picked up, ?to experiment on him, to ?fix? him, and my brother-? her nails nearly splintered away against the tree, ?-accepted.?

Sandra leaned against a tree and looked down at the floor. She had stopped looking at, speaking directly to, Cranberry. Cranberry, for her part, remained silent. She wanted to tell Sandra to stop the story, but she could not. So she watched Sandra and how she began to cry ? and this would be the price Cranberry paid for the information she craved.

?He experimented on my brother. He- he ?fixed? him, right, hah, the way a kid fixes a broken clock. In his laboratory, he saved my brother?s body, and in the process, he destroyed his mind. H-heh. It started with headaches and nightmares and it became rantings and delusions soon thereafter. Until- until the day, he- the last day I saw him-? Sandra trembled and grabbed at her left sleeve. She pulled it up. The skin there was marred by an ugly purplish-red scar, crossing over near the joint of the elbow. Beneath the sleeve, there was the start of another one. ?He did this.? She inched the sleeve back down. ?He?d turned paranoid, psychotic. Just ? picked up this jagged hunk of metal he?d been working on and?? She stopped for a few seconds, just trembling. ?He? I?m not sure he really snapped out of it. He just turned and left and I locked the doors. I haven?t seen him since.? Her tears slowly came to a halt. And she finally looked at Cranberry. ?And you might be to blame for part of it.?

?What? Me? Sandra? I- I am sorry about your brother, but I never met hi-?

?Dr. Noh assisted Dr. L?mmle with the experiments. If you?re his daughter, you?re the closest person to the two people I?d sell my soul to get my hands on.?

?He-? Cranberry?s eyes widened. ?My father- he- what?!? Her tail stood stiff. ?Sandra, you-? are joking, she wanted to say. But there was no way to finish that thought. Could her own father be that horrifying? Visions of the hologram?s disturbingly gleeful tone reverberated through her head. And was she truly there to bear the burden of her father?s sins? And those of a man she had never met?

?He did, Cranberry. Your father was as much a part of what happened to my brother as Dr. L?mmle was. And he didn?t deviate from their plan a whit. How many others do you suppose they did the same thing to, dissecting them, maybe even without the half-truths they told my brother? Maybe even you. Do you even know why you exist? Are you really somebody?s child? Or are you just another experiment that got too large for the test tube??

Hot tears crossed Cranberry?s cheeks. An experiment? How dare- she felt the red enclosing on her again, her heart pounding faster, head swimming. Sandra was staring at her like a statue, only she wasn?t staring; she simply seemed to be moving ever- so- slowly. So- Cranberry quickly dropped to her knees and drove her hands into the earth. She closed her eyes, felt her body tremble, and her clothing shred; seams down the back, along the thighs, everywhere. The red, the red? calm?

**
?I?m sorry?? the apology sounded half-hearted but there was honesty underneath it. ?That was mean of me to say. I, uh,? the tone shifted to embarrassment, ?made you grow again, didn?t I??

Cranberry?s head felt clearer. Had she gotten herself under control or was the apology to thank? She needed to remain calm now, especially now? so she refused to examine her own naked form and evaluate the change. She groaned, ?It is not your fault,? though perhaps it was, ?it is my own. I will need some new clothes, if that is no bother.?

Sandra tried to puzzle this one out. The trees were still taller than Cranberry, so there was not the fear of accidentally poking her head out above the treeline. On the other hand, where could she find clothes to fit Cranberry? ?We?ll have to think of something?? She looked over Cranberry?s body. If it had been a tight fit to get through regular doors before, it would be seemingly impossible now. Sandra could not imagine a twist that wouldn?t result in bumping her shoulders or her large bust against the door frame. And one look at those supple long arms suggested she might accidentally just shatter such a frame, if Cranberry didn?t care to just punch holes through walls at this point. The extremely long cranberry-shaded hair, curvy hips and very large breasts seemed like some generous afterthought, like it was unallowable that the growing cheetah-sphinx should be able to harbor any hope of avoiding attention.

?Let?s go back inside,? Sandra suggested. ?We?ll think along the way and, well??

She didn?t finish her sentence, but Cranberry knew what she meant. They had a discussion to finish. And more than ever now, Cranberry needed to know the truth behind her existence.

[wolfman-al]

Ooooh.
The story is getting very grimm and dark. I like that.