Chamberlain's Folly (The Terra Nova Chronicles) Read online

  “In my opinion the Central Government must give you the same respect. To do otherwise calls into question not only their understanding of their responsibility to you, but also what they see as your responsibility to the state.”

  The Historian pounded his fist on the podium.

  “I believe,” he told the class. “I am mature enough to make up my own mind about that time period and any of the other events, historical or current; the Central Government feels I am better off not knowing about.”

  “To expound upon my initial response to Cadet Childress, the syllabus for this course has been approved by the proper authorities. Anything I share with you in this class that you may not have heard elsewhere is fully documented. In fact, I have documentation for much more information I would impart to you, if I were allowed to.”

  He looked once more at his tablet to collect his thoughts and continued his lecture.

  Chapter 4

  19-November-2209

  Morning Grass woke with a ringing in her ears. She felt no pain except for a throbbing in her head. She opened her eyes slowly. There were bright lights and commotion all around her. She lifted her arm and felt it contact a smooth surface. It wasn’t until she heard a muffled voice and then a mechanical-sounding translation into her dialect; that she realized she was in a medical isolation chamber.

  “How do you feel,” the translated voice asked.

  Morning Grass opened her eyes and was startled to find a human female looking down at her through the glass. She felt an uncontrollable feeling of panic grasp her. She clawed at the lid of the chamber, screaming to be let out. Her sharp claws scraped against the glass, but didn’t scratch it.

  The human pressed a touch pad on the side of the chamber and Morning Grass caught a sudden whiff of an acrid gas being pumped in. She began to feel light-headed and started laughing. She laughed uncontrollably until she exhausted herself, after which she felt an unnatural calm settle over her. It was then she noticed her left arm and left leg were missing.

  Without displaying the shock that should have come with such a discovery, she looked around and saw there were intravenous tubes connected to her neck and right arm. She studied the tubes for a moment and then looked up again at the human staring back at her through the glass. Before she could voice the question, the human anticipated it and answered.

  “I’m Dr. Russo. My rank is Major. I’m a medical officer with the Marines assigned to the space carrier S.S. Neil A. Armstrong of the Combined Earth Forces,” the human told Morning Grass in a matter-of-fact tone. “I’ll let you decide if you want to refer to me as ‘Doctor’ or ‘Major’.”

  Morning Grass giggled as she thought to herself, “May I just call you ‘ape woman’?” She then realized she must have actually said it out loud because Russo was frowning.

  “Perhaps the Corporal has forgotten proper etiquette,” Russo said, sternly. “Not only is she still in the military and speaking to an officer, but she herself is also mostly human.”

  Morning Grass’ giggle turned into a full laugh. She turned away and closed her eyes. “Am I a prisoner,” she asked.

  “Not at the moment,” the doctor replied.

  Morning Grass tapped on the glass. “Then why am I strapped down in this test tube,” she inquired.

  “You are now in sterile isolation on the Armstrong being treated for your injuries,” Russo said. She appeared to be around the same age as Morning Grass.

  “You lost your arm and leg while you were in the forest,” Russo explained. “From what we can tell you must have fumbled a grenade. We are dressing your amputated limbs with drugs that have a side effect of making you highly susceptible to infection, so we must isolate you, temporarily.”

  “But, more about that later,” she told the feline. “Are you currently in any pain?”

  Morning Grass looked back at the doctor. It angered her that she couldn’t keep from smiling due to the effects of the gas. Unable to outwardly show anger, no matter how she tried, she gave up and laughed again.

  “No,” she replied, in a giggly voice that belied her contempt. “Please don’t let the fact you are treating my wounds make you think I still won’t kill you when I get out of this glass jar you have me trapped in, missing limbs notwithstanding.”

  Morning Grass then started laughing uncontrollably once more. Russo waited for Morning Grass to calm down.

  “All hostilities between your people and mine have ceased,” Russo told her. “We are now at peace with the felines and the human natives of this planet. We will do everything we can to help you rebuild it and normalize relations between our governments.”

  “I might add that the expatriates from Earth who created you as a slave race and attacked the natives are now being processed for a return to Earth so they may face punishment for their crimes against you, the natives and their own people.”

  Morning Grass scoffed as Russo continued.

  “It’s true,” Russo assured her. “You will be given a full briefing by your superiors later, but, for now, I need to help you decide if you want us to regenerate a new arm and leg for you.”

  Maybe it was the gas, but Morning Grass immediately forgot her hatred of the doctor and developed a keen interest in what she had to say.

  “How can you do that,” she asked.

  Major Russo became more relaxed as she saw Morning Grass was finally calm and attentive.

  “We use a variation on cloning technology to cause the limbs to grow back,” she explained. “You are not an ideal candidate for the procedure. Even though you are young and in excellent physical condition…”

  Russo was interrupted by another human before she could finish her explanation. This human was male and looked as if he was still in adolescence. He exchanged some words with the major, after which, she looked down at Morning Grass to excuse herself temporarily.

  Russo walked out of Morning Grass’ field of view. Within mere seconds of her departure, Morning Grass had all but forgotten what Russo looked like and began to wonder if she was only dreaming this bizarre exchange.

  The male human carried a tablet and tapped the screen a couple of times before looking at Morning Grass.

  “I have the results of your scans,” he stated. “I’m just a bit confused. I see ovaries, but no uterus. Have you had surgery to remove it?”

  Morning Grass stared back with as much anger and contempt as she could muster under the influence of the sedative gas.

  “I’m not a silly pram, you stupid hairless monkey,” she yelled, trying hard not to break out into another fit of laughing.

  She reached down and pulled the sheet away to expose her pelvis. She rubbed herself in the general area of her pudenda and her genetically engineered ovipositor emerged from her pelvic floor and curled up toward her belly as it swelled.

  Morning Grass burst into another fit of laughter as the human med tech kept looking back and forth from his tablet to her now fully erect ovipositor. Russo returned just in time to prevent the tech from embarrassing himself further.

  “I’m sorry about that,” Russo said apologetically to Morning Grass. She sent the tech away and turned back to explain. “The doctors all know better, but they can’t help the temptation to prank the med techs who haven’t been informed as yet. You will have to forgive Corporal Lowell. He truly did not know. You should probably cover yourself back up.”

  Morning Grass laughed out loud again, but this time it was not the sedative gas. What she had just done not only confused the young human, but may have scared him half to death.

  “That was not really a proper introduction to a species with three genders,” she thought. “But, it will be unforgettable.” She laughed to herself for a moment and then became uncomfortably aware Major Russo was not smiling.

  “I need to explain the regeneration procedure to you, Corporal Morning Grass,” the major said as if she were not happy to be having the conversation.

  When Morning Grass heard her name, she started to feel a b
urning in her gut. She knew something was coming that would require her to make a choice between remaining an amputee or regaining her limbs but losing something she might consider just as dear.

  “As I told you earlier,” Russo began. “You are not an ideal candidate for regeneration.”

  Morning Grass nodded as if she had caught that fact from before they were interrupted, but she truly hadn’t.

  Russo continued.

  “You are young and strong enough,” she said. “And, your other injuries from the blast and the fall are healing nicely.”

  Russo paused and took a deep breath as she found herself wandering off topic again. She had counseled with other patients about regeneration; lots of soldiers suffered amputations; but this time it would be hitting close to home.

  She continued; her voice filling with emotion. “This technique has never been used on a genetically modified being before. Even its use on humans who have received mild gene therapy for congenital defects has been quite limited.”

  Russo paused to allow Morning Grass to digest this information.

  Morning Grass nodded so the doctor would assume she understood the relevance of the conversation, so far. Truthfully, she really didn’t and it was scaring her, but she indicated the explanation could continue.

  Major Russo picked up her tablet and tapped the screen. She looked at it for a few seconds and set it back down. Then she continued; her voice still shaky.

  “When the humans who first came here created you, they used gene-splicing techniques our doctors and scientists have known for centuries and, in our opinion, they perverted them, horribly,” she said. “These people took knowledge and technology that ethical doctors and scientists used for the good of all and employed them in a manner that our civilization believes to be unethical and abhorrent.”

  “My people do not deny your right to exist, and we do not presume to say your creation as a species was an evil act in and of itself. What I am trying to explain to you is the science used to create your species was stretched to the limits of our knowledge. Our code of ethics was also ignored in that those who created you did so for their convenience and without regard to your wellbeing or right of self-determination…”

  Morning Grass was becoming impatient again. She breathed deeply in and out, and then started to frown. This dissertation on human ethics and morality wasn’t helping her to see what her dilemma actually was.

  Russo saw she was losing Morning Grass’ interest. She would have to just lay out the medical facts and then hope the feline would ask all of the right questions. It was vital for Morning Grass to completely understand what must be asked of her before the regeneration of her limbs could take place.

  “Sorry,” Russo said. “I will get to the point.”

  She apologized, not for wanting to cover the ethical issues first, but for annoying Morning Grass. The major looked the feline in the eye and laid out the bare facts.

  “We know the regeneration procedure will restore your limbs and they will be healthy and fully functional. You will grow new muscle, nerves, bone… all of it,” she told Morning Grass. “You will regain all sense of touch and there will be nothing artificial or mechanical. The arm and leg will be exactly duplicated down to the last hair, claw, mole and freckle.”

  Russo continued slowly. “To do this, we have to partially reset some of your body’s processes to gestational levels.”

  Morning Grass looked at the doctor. She understood some of what was being explained but couldn’t fully grasp the ramifications.

  “You mean,” she asked. “I will become a fetus again?”

  “No,” Russo answered. “But, the condition is similar in nature. We will be essentially telling your body to start the incubation process over and replace any missing parts. If you’ve had an appendectomy or had any other organs removed, they will grow back. Any scarring on your skin or internal organs may even turn back into soft tissue.”

  “Because of the massive changes your body will undergo in such a short time you must be drugged into a light coma and suspended inside a cloning chamber while the process is carried out,” Russo continued. “But, that is not the issue…”

  “Why must I be drugged,” Morning Grass asked. The sedative gas was wearing off and she was starting to be suspicious of Russo’s motives again.

  “Why must you put me in a coma,” Morning Grass asked yelling at the top of her lungs. “I won’t let you drug me.”

  Morning Grass didn’t understand why the thought of being drugged into unconsciousness bothered her so much, but it made her hysterical. At any rate, she did not want to become an experiment.

  “No,” she screamed repeatedly at the top of her lungs.

  “You will have to be in the cloning tank for at least ten weeks with no food or drink, breathing the fluid,” Russo shouted, trying to regain control of the conversation. “Not only that, but even if there was a way to keep you fully conscious through all of it, we can’t give you analgesics or other drugs that might interfere with the quasi-gestational processes. The pain would be excruciating. You’d never survive it.”

  Russo needed to calm Morning Grass, but was afraid to use the gas again and risk an overdose.

  “I can handle pain,” Morning Grass growled. “I won’t let you put me into a coma while you do whatever you want with me. Damn you. Let me out of this bottle.”

  A familiar face appeared next to Major Russo and Morning Grass heard a voice speak to her that needed no electronic translation.

  “You will calm down and cooperate fully with the medical personnel aboard this military vessel, Corporal Morning Grass,” spoke the feline male in an assertive manner that was stern, but not to the point of showing disapprobation.

  Morning Grass responded to the order from Teacher quickly. Once she was calm, Teacher informed the major she could continue with no further interruptions if she liked.

  Russo looked down at her tablet for a few seconds as if trying to gather her thoughts before proceeding, and while she wasn’t looking, Teacher winked at Morning Grass. Morning Grass smiled back at him.

  Russo looked from her tablet to Morning Grass. The feline blushed as if the major had caught her passing notes in class.

  The major then looked up at Teacher. He looked back at her with a sheepish smile and shrugged. Russo then looked back down at Morning Grass who was fighting to keep from laughing but could not hide her smile.

  Russo was elated when she realized the two felines must have a personal relationship. What she had to tell Morning Grass next would not be easy for the feline to take. She looked back down at her tablet and waited until she could put a more serious expression on her face before speaking again.

  “Sergeant, I am glad you are here to give Corporal Morning Grass some moral support,” Russo said. “I was about to tell her of the possible dangers involved in regenerating her lost limbs.”

  “Corporal,” Russo continued, now directing her conversation back to Morning Grass. “As I said before, we use this technique cautiously and rarely on those who have had any previous genetic therapy. Because you are a product of genetic engineering, we cannot be sure if the genetic switches we must flip to start the regeneration will cause a cascade affecting the genes manipulated during the original creation of your species. As a result, we can’t predict the severity of any undesirable side effects. For that matter, we can’t say that any genetic drift during your regeneration won’t result in a desirable genetic leap for your species, although the odds of that happening would be miniscule. You must consider this when deciding whether or not to proceed.”

  Morning Grass asked, “What could happen to me?”

  “The most common side effects in full humans range from things as minor as a change in eye or hair color to something as serious as the shutdown of whole organs,” Russo said. “With your artificially manipulated genetics, it’s possible, but not extremely likely; your intelligence could raise or drop. It’s even conceivable, but next to impossible, yo
u could become fully a human and lose all feline traits. There is always some genetic drift but, in all likelihood it will be inconsequential.”

  Russo paused. Morning Grass became concerned when she saw Russo was having difficulty continuing.

  Russo swallowed hard. Her voice broke as she said, “If you choose to undergo the regeneration, you must give me your word you will never try to have children.”

  “Never is a long time,” Morning Grass replied. “I can’t promise…”

  “You must promise me,” Russo demanded. It was now obvious she was emotionally close to this subject.

  Morning Grass didn’t protest. She asked the major to explain.

  Russo spoke slowly and clearly. “Every human, male or female, who has ever undergone both gene therapy and regeneration, has passed along congenital defects to every child he or she conceived after the combination of therapies. Even the least serious of the defects in the children shortened and diminished the quality of their lives to the point where it became a moral and ethical issue for the medical community. Doctors recommend sterilization for any patients who have undergone both therapies. The combination makes you unable to viably reproduce. I’m sorry, but you need to know.”

  Major Russo allowed the information to set in. She saw that Morning Grass and Teacher were locked in a gaze.

  “I’ll leave you to think it over,” she told the feline, who was now on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry, but the window of opportunity to successfully regenerate your limbs is closing quickly. It would be best if you could answer me by this time tomorrow at the latest.”

  The doctor turned to leave. She couldn’t avoid the desire to give some form of comfort and patted Teacher on the back before walking away. He acknowledged the gesture of support and kindness with a smile and thanked the major for her help.

  “If I am to become whole again, I will never be able to give you children, Teacher,” Morning Grass sobbed once Russo was out of sight. “I wish you could hold me right now… so badly.” She reached up and touched the glass of the isolation tube she was in. Teacher put his hand over hers.