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A Special Gift

"Did you hear about ReCirq Labs?"

I looked up from my computer where I had been doing expense reports and other bureaucratic banal to see Jerry's face poking through my door.

"No, hadn't heard anything about them recently. Why? What's up?" I responded.

Jerry stepped into my office. "Julie down in sales called to see if they needed any more of our biologicals this breeding season and found the number disconnected to the person we've usually dealt with. So then she called the main switchboard number and got a message that ReCirq Labs is closing up shop and gave a number to some attorney or something as far as settling outstanding accounts."

I furrowed my brow at that and tilted my head some. "That's odd. Wasn't that lab supposed to be fully funded by that weird research biologist Steve Meers or something? Don't suppose something's happened to the wackadoo, do you? I mean, he's not been seen in years and he had some VERY odd theories that he tried to promote at last. I mean, they were logistically sound and potentially correct but socio-politically a huge hot potato and ethically.... well....," I took a deep breath. "At least some of the ones I'd heard about were ethically questionable as far as animal care and other issues."

Jerry nodded. "Yeah. I'd not heard or read any of his work myself but had heard from others that what he proposed doing with... or to... animals wasn't that... uh... cheery?" Jerry stumbled for appropriate words, as though there were any for such delicate issues.

I laughed. "No worries, Jer, I know what you mean. I didn't mind sending them frozen semen or fertilized ova but... yeah, what I'd heard of some of their genetic manipulation wasn't kosher by any nation's code of bioethics. But that makes me wonder.... If they're closing, what's going to happen to all the animals they have there? I mean, just given what they've ordered from us over the years, and consistently too, they've got to have at least 20 different species, and generally you'd have to have multiple animals of any one of them just to have normal control of the population for duplication of results."

Jerry frowned and nodded. "I see what you mean. I didn't really give that much of a thought until you mentionining it just now. Yeah, I'd not seen anything on the boards or in AFG or anything about animals for sale or any dispersal of stock." It was his turn to furrow his brow. "I've got some friends out that way, so I think I'll give them a call and see if they can dig up anything. Given their size of facility and staffing, SOMEone must know SOMEthing out there, and should be willing to grump about it to someone they know."

I simply nodded. "Yeah, I know, or perhaps should say "knew", someone that worked for them. Animal handler that I got to know from Minnesota before they banned private ownership of big cats. But we've not been in touch for... oh, geez... 15 years or better? Something like that. You know how time has a way of getting away from you before you know it." I chuckled at that. Indeed, time had passed too quickly for me even within the past couple years.

Jerry nodded and chuckled agreement. "Yeah, blink and a week disappears. At any rate, I better see if that new kid is finished cleaning out the bear dens. He means well but he's a bit slow about getting the work done."

I laughed at that. "That's teenagers for you, these days they want to start in the middle instead of at the bottom of the heap like everyone else has. Just let him know that he won't be shoveling shit forever here, unlike other places where that'd be all he could do without some kind of college degree."

Jerry smiled knowingly. "Yeah, I'll make sure to tell him. Kinda glad someone thought I would make a good keeper back when I needed a job."

I winked. "And I've been paying for that one ever since."

Jerry just laughed as he headed out the door back to his duties. Turning back to my computer, I frowned some. Given how ReCirq was managed, the ultra-secret nature of their facility, the remote location, and Steve Meers' increasing paranoia about "the establishment" and government spying on him, I had a very good idea of what the likely fate of their animal stock would be. Even the severely endangered species that you're never supposed to just dispose of. I frowned again and quickly finished up the monthly expense report I'd been working on, fudging much of it, but knowing that didn't matter too much in the broad scheme of things.

Having somewhat finished my paperwork, I clicked on the browser and checked for ReCirq's website. The frontpage was still there like always, only this time with a notice similar to what the phone message said, that indeed they had closed and it, too, gave contact information for settling outstanding accounts and debts. I jotted down the number and gave it a try.

"Thank you for calling the law offices of Cumbres, Acker and Klee. All staff are currently busy at the moment. Your estimated wait time is 12 minutes. If you know your party's extension, please dial it now. If you wish to leave a general message for us to get back to you, press 1 now. Otherwise, please remain on the line and we will take your call at the first available opportunity." I hung up. Not too surprising, overall, but not something really worth spending my time waiting on hold for some legal secretary to tell me that she didn't have any idea what was being done with the animals, and that she'd ask her boss. That would take a couple days for him or her to get back to me with a similar answer. I rolled my eyes thinking about the stupidity of how parts of society don't really work as intended.

I sat there and pondered things for a short while... then frowned and figured I may as well try contacting Jeff. I took a deep breath and sighed.

I'd met Jeff through the internet purely by accident on an animal care site and we'd got to talking about this-and-that. Soon we'd come to find we had similar interests as far as animals go, or at least that we both liked big cats and enjoyed working with and training them. I didn't ask if his interests went beyond that, as that'd be far too inappropriate given the context of the site we met on. After meeting him face-to-face and chatting with him over the course of a week-long visit, I'd come to the conclusion that while he was a good animal handler and trainer, some of his socio-political ideas were.... shall we say, rather disconcerting?

Turned out Jeff was one of those people that saw a government spy around every corner, in every new electronic device, and believed wholeheartedly that there was some form of social manipulation going on at some exceptionally high level for various things to have happened. Then when Barack Obama got elected to be President, he really went off the deep end, which was about the time he started working for ReCirq labs, so it's likely he fit right in with their security paranoia.

I tried writing him an email to the last address I'd had for him, a pseudonym on a free email service, and got a bounce-back that the account no longer existed. That was somewhat surprising given the fact that he'd been sending me a near-continuous stream of forwarded emails regarding various political this-and-that. I checked my inbox and noticed that they'd stopped about a week and a half ago. I shrugged and guessed that with the loss of his job he must have figured it was some governmental conspiracy even if it wasn't, and had gone "off the grid" to hide from the soundless black helicopters that must surely be watching him.

I went about my daily routine of working with the big cats, checking on things questioned by other keepers and talking with them about those questions, and answering the myriad of questions from the public about this-and-that relative to what I was doing and the animals in general. Rather mundane, overall, but still a job I enjoy. As a wise man once said "A well-educated public can form educated opinions. An uneducated public has a tendency to worry too much about things of exceptionally minor importance." This is especially true when it comes to the ownership and handling of large predators like big cats.

Jerry found me again in the cathouse while I was again leaning on the terrace railing answering questions - about the tigers this time and why they were so endangered. It always makes me smile when I see the reactions of awe at just how large a single tiger's range is, and when they come to understand just why their territories are so large. Then come the looks of disheartenment as they come to realize just how tigers are indeed caught in a proverbial "Catch-22". While the sheer numbers of people required to patrol enough land for a stable natural tiger population is an impossible number, the fact that actually HAVING patrols in tigers' territories would significantly disrupt their natural actions to the extent that it would cause more problems than it would solve by alleviating or at least mitigating the poaching of wild tigers. But as I finished Jerry nodded to the door towards the terrace and we both headed over to talk, with me excusing myself for the moment from the cluster of curious minds eager for knowledge and with many intelligent questions which deserved equally intelligent answers.

We met on the lower level of the stairs. "Bad news," Jerry started.

I frowned. "Let me guess. No more feed trucks in and lots of garbage trucks on their way out, right?"

He shook his head. "Even worse. One of my friends got in touch with a gate guard at the plant. They brought in and assembled a large industrial biohazard incinerator in the secured part of the facility. Big enough to take a dump truck load at a time of whatever they want turned into dust. But you're right about no more feed trucks."

I frowned deeper and he continued. "From what I hear, just about everyone in research, animal handling, office staff, whatever has been given their walking papers, as well as a stern comment that their nondisclosure agreements are still quite valid as far as speaking about anything that went on there. Security staff has been cut by half but that still leaves the place more secure than Fort Knox and I'd imagine they're the ones sterilizing the facility, apart from some very-high-level people pulling information before it's all toasted."

I sighed. "But nothing on four legs walks out alive. Figured that, but there was always a little hope...." Jerry nodded agreement. "Sorry, Jim. Wish it were better news, but... I guess it's to be expected in situations like this."

I sighed again, gave a halfhearted shrug and turned to go back up. "Ah well... yeah, shit happens. I know I can't play master puppeteer for the world. Hell, I have enough trouble keeping you saps in line." I winked at Jerry and he laughed.

"Don't forget all the unwashed masses out there waiting to hear the gospel according to Jim." He quipped back and I couldn't help but laugh too as I ascended the stairs and went back out on the terrace for more Q&A from the "unwashed masses".

The thought of so many animal deaths was still bothering me as I drove home. It always bothered me when things like that happened. Labs closing, constabulary getting gun-happy when animals escape, or even just the way our society treats most animals as throw-away commodities. Get one, use it for awhile, toss it aside when it becomes inconvenient and get another one at a better time to repeat the process. I sighed and shook my head as I pulled into the drive and pushed the button for the garage door opener.

As the door rose, my expression changed from one of dismay to first one of confusion, then one of severe concern. Where I'd usually be parking sat a large roll-cage. One of a size typically used for the transport of big cats. As the door rose further, my eyebrows joined it as it was one of the kind I had produced years ago in small custom quantities, and then as the door lifted fully I recognized just where that one had been sold to and a smile crossed my face in hopeful anticipation. It was a transport crate from the wildlife park that Jeff had worked for when I'd known him.

Shutting off the engine and headlights, I quickly got out and rushed to the cage. Inside the cage with its solid-plate paneling (per airline requirements) a head rose and a large nose snuffled at the air holes of the door, mushing against the bars beneath the paneling. My heart melted.

"Why, hello there. You must have had quite an experience getting here." I said to the owner of the pink nose. Whoever it belonged to sniffed my hand and then tried to lick it. That was a positive sign at least. Taped to the top of the cage was some sort of packet. "Wait here a little and I'll be right back." The being inside seemed to understand and laid down as I ripped the taped packet off the top metal plate.

I was a little concerned that someone could have gotten into my place so easily. It's not like the old farm is THAT remote, but it is a bit out of the way to the extent that if you didn't know there was a farm down that lane you'd have thought it just went to fields, and that while it's somewhat obscured, I'm only a couple miles from the nearest town. Jeff had been out here before, so it wasn't THAT disconcerting that he remebered where it was, nor would it be too challenging for someone to try entry codes until the garage door opened. Or even radio frequencies to "step on" the one that activated that opener. Inwardly, I was grateful that I never installed openers in the other two bays of the garage, only the one that I typically parked in and that didn't readily open into the compound or my home office area. Sometimes it pays to be old-fashioned and cheap.

I unlocked the door to the rest of the garage and then into the hall between the garage area and the office and surgery area. Entering my office I set the packet down and flipped through the address book, looking for a number. I lifted the receiver on the outgoing office phone and dialed. While the phone rang, I took out my knife and opened the packet. There were a number of DVDs in slipcases bound to a packet of papers. One of the DVDs was labeled "Watch Me First!" and as I was about to take it out someone picked up the phone at the other end.

"Hello?" the familiar female voice asked.

"Hi there, Mrs. Steele. How are you today?" I responded.

"Oh! Hi Jim. Oh, not so good. You know, it's hell getting old." Mrs. Steele was the widow that lived at the road end of my driveway and was also the local busybody for this part of the road I live on.

"Um, Mrs. Steele, I have a question. When I arrived home there was something... well... somewhat unusual waiting for me. Someone dropped something off here and it wasn't the UPS guy or FedEx or anything like that. Not that there's anything wrong, it's just... well... Did you happen to notice a big truck go up my drive sometime today?" Sometimes it pays to have nosy neighbors. Not too often, but sometimes.

"Why yes! Around 3 o'clock there was someone that stopped by here and asked if you still had the place up the hill. He was a friendly young man, about your age. He said he had something for you and he needed to make sure it got to you because it was rather important. But he wasn't driving any big truck. Oh, no. It was just a pickup. Rather old, actually, and looked fairly beat to me. And it needed a muffler, badly!" she droned on.

I couldn't help but smile and chuckle inside. She always thought people needed to take better care of their vehicles. Then again, when you're 80-something and your car only ventures to town twice a week and spends the rest of its time in a tidy garage, it doesn't take much to maintain it.

"Did you see what he had for me, Mrs. Steele?" I inquired.

"Oh... I don't think so..." she sounded a bit confused. "He was holding a packet of something in one of those tan-colored envelopes like you have in an office. I thought that was what he was going to give you. He had something in the back of his truck but it was covered by one of those army-colored canvas tarps, but I didn't pay it much heed. He was very polite, but kept looking around like he was nervous about talking to me, and he never looked me right in the eyes. Was he a friend of yours or was he up to no good?" Her tone changed as though she might have the beginnings of a bit of salacious gossip if something nefarious was afoot at my place with this "young man" coming to call on me.

I laughed. "No, Mrs. Steele... He's not quite a friend of mine but he's someone I've known for quite awhile but hadn't seen in years. You know how that goes, you sort of lose touch with some people and then they come waltzing back into your life when you least expect it, or you see them in places you'd never have guessed they'd be. Did he happen to mention his name?"

She was silent for a moment. "Noo.... I don't think.... Oh! Yes. Yes he did. Though I can't remember it all. Jeff something. My sister's daughter is married to a fellow named Jeff Kurtz, but that wasn't this young man's last name. I'm sorry but I can't remember it. It's hell getting old, you know..."

I couldn't smile at her repeating that last part. "No need to worry, yes, I know who you're meaning and yes, he's the fellow I've known for quite awhile. I'm sort of surprised that he was out this way because I'd just learned today that the place he worked for closed, so I'd have thought he'd have gone somewhere else for work rather than coming out to give me anything. And yes, I got the packet of things and a large box, so that's why I called asking about the big truck. The packet was taped to the large box rather than just left at the mailbox or inside the front screen door like how the UPS and FedEd people tend to put things. Anyway, I'll let you get on with your evening and I have to make myself some supper. Thanks for letting me know about Jeff being the one who delivered it up here. You have a good night, now."

"Oh, no problem dear. I know people like us who live alone have to stick together and all, especially out here in the country! I had my dinner awhile ago so I'll be heading to bed after I watch some TV. That always makes me ready for bed, even back when Albert was still alive we'd watch our shows and then head off to bed. You have a good night too and don't hurt yourself unpacking that big box. It really looked quite big, but you're a strong young man so just be careful you don't strain yourself. Good night." With that she hung up her phone and I did the same. She was really a sweet old lady with the only drawback being her affinity for gossip and nosing into other peoples' affairs. Thankfully she didn't mind I had such unusual animals for pets or she would have been one hell of an annoyance as far as causing trouble for me.

I sat there awhile at my desk pondering things. It was definitely a big cat in the roll-cage. It seemed friendly enough, though that may not necessarily be the entire case about things. If I were to just open the cage, I'd be taking a big chance, but I certainly couldn't keep it in there longer. It had already had quite a trip just getting here, and the longer it spent confined the less manageable it would be. I drummed my fingers on the desktop while thinking it through, then realized I'd just spent 15 minutes or better just thinking things over. All the other cats were tucked away, even Peaches was in her room in the house. Well, only one way to find out if it is friendly.

I stood up and went back through to the single bay of the garage, leaving the doors open on the way through from my office to the garage where my destiny awaited. The being inside the cage stood up as the door opened again and the pink nose was sniffing at the opening. There was no locks on the latches so I pulled first the one slider bar, then the second, bracing my weight against the door just in case whatever was inside decided to try to bolt out. It was unwarranted as there was no pressure leaning against it. I then opened the door slowly, staying behind it as I did so for safety reasons. Again, my concern was unwarranted. The door opened to reveal a lioness inside the roll-cage. She just stood there with what could only be descibed as a dazed and placid expression. She just stood there, looking around a bit and then looked right at me, as if questioning. I smiled and my heart melted more.

"It's alright, girl. You can come on out. I'm not going to hurt you." I said. As though she fully understood she stepped lightly, though somewhat stiltedly, out of the cage and then stood on the concrete floor just in front of the container, then turned to face me again. Still she had that odd expression on her face. I shut the door and moved towards her. Her expression didn't change at all though her ears twitched a little as if somewhere she was indeed trying to express something. This lack of expressiveness concerned me some, but I reached forward with one hand and she sniffed it gently, then moved her head beneath so my hand then rested on the top of her head between her ears. She looked at me from that position and I smiled and pet her head tenderly.

"You seem to be a sweetie. I'm glad you...." I sighed deeply as the reality came crashing in again. "... survived."

Though her expression never seemed to change from its dazed manner, her ears twitched again, seeming to want to pivot forward at the sigh and she lifted her head against my hand some, as though wanting to express affection but being unable to. This concerned me again and I idly pet her head as I considered it a bit. So many questions ran through my head that they were just an innumerable and ill-defined mass of query. I couldn't tell if she understood my concern about her and confusion at her state, but she seemed quite friendly and docile. It was then that I remembered the DVDs and papers. Having figured there was minimal threat from her, at least at this point, I shut the cage door and moved towards the interior door to the garage. She pivoted about where she stood but didn't make any move to follow, to explore, or anything, for that matter. I looked back and patted my leg. "Come on, you're welcome to join me," I beckoned to her from the doorway.

That brought a response of motion from her, and she padded to follow me, again her gait somewhat stilted and choppy, as though it were almost mechanical. Through the other section of the garage that I used as workshop space, through the door into the hall, and into the cozy little office we went. I gestured to the couch and she apparently understood as she climbed up and placidly laid down, head still up and watching me with that off-focus gaze, which was now starting to creep me out some. I removed the "Watch Me First" DVD from the slipcase and put it in the player, turning on the TV, then settling onto the empty couch space next to the lioness. She laid her head in my lap and my right hand came to rest on her head, petting her tenderly and gently fondling her ears some as I grabbed the remote with my left hand and pushed the Play button.

With a flicker, the TV started the program. It was Jeff, as I had figured. Either it was a webcam or cellphone or something he used to record this part of the production as it certainly wasn't anything remotely professional. The scene showed Jeff in the front seat of what appeared to be some kind of truck with the roll-cage in back covered by a tarp just like how Mrs. Steele mentioned. After a bit of twiddling with something, Jeff spoke.

"Hi there, Jim. I guess you've discovered this small packet and your larger... package. I didn't really know who else to turn to for this, so you're it, buddy. Inside the cage is a lioness, unless you've already discovered that. She's RC86011L36... officially anyway. I call her Cleo and she will answer to that name. If you're confused, that's alright. She's one... or, I should say, WAS one of the test subjects at the lab I worked at. Maybe you've heard and maybe you hadn't, but the lab is closing and they've decided that all of the animals have to be disposed of. I can kind of understand why, given what all we'd done to them. Most people wouldn't understand... Hell, _I_ don't even agree with why a lot of it was done to them. Expediency, most likely, rather than training and maybe having things fuck up. Either that or just to see if we could - the bane of many scientific purists. That double-edged sword of science, you know. Anyway..." He stopped talking and looked all around before continuing.

"I guess you realize I managed to sneak some animals out before, during the hubbub just after the closing was announced. Killing off that many animals all at once would have made a big actual stink as they couldn't all be carted off or incincerated or whatever all at once. Cleo there is the last. I had to really work to get her out as some of those around me had gotten wise to the fact that animals were disappearing but they couldn't track down who moved them or anything. That's why I'm recording this in the truck, as it wasn't safe for me to go back home. I'd already sanitized it anyway and have all I really need with me. Pepper, the dobie I had when you had visited in Minnesota, died a few years ago and I hadn't gotten another dog. Didn't really feel the need to since I was working with animals every day. I guess that's sort of good for hitting the road and maybe end up hitchiking and being homeless for awhile. Anyway..." He took a deep breath and looked around again before once again continuing.

"At first what I was doing there was just like back in Minnesota. I'd move animals around, work on training... all sorts of fun stuff. Bottle feeding little ones... it was great. But then the supervisors asked me to help more and more with more intense... stuff. First it was training for restraints and other sorts of things. Conscious medical tests. Different this-and-that that was more or less beneficial to the animals and wasn't too terrible. But it did get worse and worse, and I was trapped. Well, maybe not exactly trapped but I _felt_ trapped. I was just as guilty as some of the others, or even moreso because I knew better about the critters' psychology and behavior. Anyway..." He again looked around. Cleo's ears were wriggling just a little, but were far from how expressive cats' ears and eyes typically are.

"If you haven't already, go ahead and let Cleo out. She's fine. There's... something not-right about her and that's important for you to see, understand, and know why it is the way it is. It's also part of why I had to risk my life to go back and get her at last. You can pause the DVD, but go ahead. She'll follow you and is perfectly fine to interact with." With that he sat back and waited a little while before continuing. "Ok, so I'd bet you have her in your office there attached to the garage and are watching this together. She's actually why I was going to try to find a way out of working for ReCirq, but never really found how to eloquently "exit stage left", so to speak. There'd been rumors that people who were involved enough with the projects here had met untimely "accidents" after quitting, and I didn't really wish to be numbered among them. That's part of why I couldn't just leave and not just wash my hands of the entire episode of my...." He stopped abruptly and moved the camera as lights appeared and the sound of some vehicle driving past where he was captured on the recording. After a little bit the camera again centered on his face and he continued. "Wash my hands of the entire episode of my life. She and the others like her that were special to me were another part of why I couldn't just leave. You've probably noted her expression. Well, more precisely, her lack of expression. That was... partly my doing. Yes, I'm as guilty as the others of doing unthinkable things to animals in the name of science. And, given who I was working for, I wouldn't be surprised if that'd mean my life ends sometime soon. Especially given what you have there, both in raw data and in Cleo herself."

His expression became quite solemn. "Cleo started out as a normal lion cub. She was far more friendly and placid than the others, but still had enough spunk to keep her balanced and to make me smile each time I was in with her. These were the qualities they were looking and breeding for in test animals as it would cut down on them having to be knocked out for routine workups and things like that. I wholeheartedly agreed with that concept. But... " He stopped and furrowed his brow for a moment. "Have you ever heard of Gamma Knife surgery? I'd imagine you have, given how much you research everything, but if you haven't... it's a way of performing brain surgery without having to cut into a patient. That's what's up with Cleo. I'd brought her to part of the lab quite to do a number of brain-type tests. EEG stuff, brain mapping... lots of things I can't really understand but maybe you can. That's what a lot of the DVDs are. The video record of many of the tests and procedures she's gone through. Including the big one that just knots my stomach thinking back on it." His face became sullen and voice started shaking.

"I brought her to that part of the lab just like many times before. She always was happy going places just on a leash. Sometimes she'd bat at peoples' pants-cuffs and such, but I didn't think it was any big deal. I took her to the assigned room which adjoined some larger room with some machine in it. There are so many different types of machines I didn't pay much attention. MRIs, CAT scanners..." He chuckled at that statement "... all sorts of stuff there probably aren't names for yet that check this and that in various ways. They said for this procedure she'd have to be knocked out. I asked about how long and stuff like that since I was concerned for her. They just gave her a dose of Ketamine and said she only needed to be out for a half hour or so. That sounded alright to me. Then they gave me this sort of metal and plastic restraint thing they called a Halo and told me how to help put it on her. The vet nicked her skin in a few places on her head for the screws to seat against her actual skull. I was told she needed to have her head perfectly still in the machine, hence the anesthesia and the halo. Well, given how they'd had her in for intense brain scan type stuff before, that made sense, so I did as they asked and held her head this way or that. She was then wheeled over to have her head X-rayed electronically in one room to make sure of how things were positioned, then we brought her back to the room we had been in, and then to the room with the machine. I helped lift her stretcher onto the mechanized table for the machine and then we went into another room which held the controls for the machine. I didn't learn until afterwards what it had actually done to her. I asked how long it'd be and then headed out into the hall to hit the crapper and grab a drink." He sighed deeply.

I was just petting Cleo's head and feeling bad for her as I watched Jeff bare his soul to the camera. I sighed deeply too, knowing what he was talking about and likely what he was going to say in the next bit. For the first time she showed some initiative and haltingly raised her head to lick at my face. Her expression never changing, but it seemed like she understood I was feeling sad for her. Just one lick and she then laid her head back down in my lap.

"I...." Jeff started to tear up as he spoke. "I can still see her just layin' there. That metal stuff screwed onto her head, locked into place on the table just waiting to be... Not knowing she'd not come out of it the same girl she went in as. I didn't know either... I don't know what I would have done, or could have done to prevent it even if I _had_ known, but... that was my step into the abyss and also my wake-up call. I just came back in as they were finishing doing whatever they were doing and I helped move her back onto the gurney and removed the Halo. One of the vets took some medical superglue and closed up the wounds where the halo screws were, leaving her good as new... or so I thought. One other attendant helped me wheel her back to the recovery area in my section and then took the stretcher and gurney back with him leaving her just laying there on the soft astroturf, kinda like in "the park" at the park you work at, only with softer under-padding in case wobbly critters fall when coming out of anesthesia. But that's the thing... when she woke up, it's like part of her never did wake up. She's had that sort of dazed expression ever since, and her walking isn't normal, either. She's just been... well... kind of a remote-control puppet in some respects. I went back and asked one of the techs what they'd done and they explained that using this new form of surgical device, a gamma knife thingy, they basically burned off parts of her brain that control this and that so she'd not need any more training and that she wouldn't try batting at peoples' pantslegs or really do anything without being told to." He frowned deeply.

"I was...." He sighed. "I don't know what I was. Disgusted, infuriated, scared shitless... I don't know the right word to describe what I felt. It's like they hid the truth from me of what I was going to be complicit in doing, but in reality I had never bothered to ask." He frowned again, then shook his head. "Anyway, while that's one of the reasons they would have slated her for a kill even if they sold off some of the animals, they'd have never been able to let her go given what she's carrying. Yes, she's pregnant. Early along, though. I can't remember how far along she is and can't bring myself to watch the disks to find the timestamp for her embryo transfer. I guess that's part of why she had that brain stuff done to her, so she'd be the perfect incubator for her genetically-manipulated offspring and I guess she'd be sacrficial when the time came to birth them. So you'd likely want to have her with you all the time when it gets close to time as she might need a c-section to get the cubs out. I know that's what they did with one tigress we bred... put a captive bolt pistol to her head and scrambled her brains before cutting her open to get her valuable cubs out without subjecting them to anesthesia transfer. At least that's what I heard from another handler, but given what I've seen with Cleo, I wouldn't doubt it one minute." He seemed to remember to look around again as if expecting to be watched.

"There's some of her paperwork I printed out along with the DVDs. One of the DVDs has all her data files on it, seemingly as plain files but for some reason they open fine but only display gobbledygook text. Maybe one of your computer-geek friends can figure it out. Some are in plain text and those are the ones I printed out. Seems those contain only basic stuff about her. There's also a folder of "appended progeny files" that were connected to her file in the database. Those I guess would be the young she's carrying as she hadn't been pregnant before. Hopefully I'll see you sometime again, but if not, good luck and enjoy Cleo and her kids. I heard rumors that the young were genetic manipulations meant to interact with humans better somehow, but you know how rumors are around a lab. 90% fertilizer to grow the 10% ingenuity." He looked around a bit nervously this time.

"I better get back on the road before they figure out I'm in this truck and just what I have as cargo. Take care and give her all the love I know you do with Peaches and Ginger. And don't EVER show her off to anyone, you must keep her a complete secret, especially if her cubs are what they're rumored to be. And don't be surprised if they're weird or something. Good luck and take care."

With that the camera shifted position and that section of video ended. I hit the stop button on the player and frowned some. Well... she had survived the mess of ReCirq, and it sounded like there were some others too. Just where they were or what they were, I didn't know and Jeff didn't say. Knowing him, he'd given them to others he knew like me, or made some sort of arrangements for their care, in the short term at least.

Cleo looked up at me. I smiled and kissed her nose. As I did so, I noticed a flicker... her expression changed ever so quickly that it may have just been a figment of my imagination. It's as though through the blanks in her mind she still had the "real her" somewhere inside and occasionally it was able to break through. The look that I may have only imagined was one of bliss or love... or satisfaction, perhaps. Even though I have a tremendous vocabulary, mere words many times have failed to adequately portray things as complex as emotion.

"Cleo?" I asked. She raised her head.

"Do you need to go out?"

She shook her head from side to side, mechanically but she did so.

"Hm... curious" I thought to myself. I decided to try it further.

"Do you know where you are?"

Again she shook her head from side to side.

"Do you know who I am?"

This time she nodded her head up and down. Again, the motions seemed mechanical, but were there.

"Can you understand me?"

She nodded again. Could it be that what they did with her brain had _some_ beneficial consequences beyond removing the behaviors they found undesirable?

"Can you tell me when you need to go out?"

Again she nodded. That certainly could come in handy. Then again, a big cat that completely understands their human keeper is a plus in so many ways.

"Do you understand what's happening to you?"

She shook her head to that question. Now for the big one.

"Do you like it here so far?"

At that she nodded.

"Are you tired?"

She nodded again and yawned. The action of yawning seemed completely natural, even down to its tongue curl, so whatever they did must not have completely subjugated her brain.

I smiled at her and kissed her forehead. Again, there was a flicker of reaction from her facial muscles, and I could feel it so it couldn't have been a deulsion on my part. I got up and she watched me with her blank expression. Even though I thought it exceptionally creepy in appearance, I knew it wasn't her fault. A thought occurred to me while I took the DVD out of the player and returned it to its slip case.

"Cleo, will you follow instructions from everyone?"

She shook her head.

"Do you follow instructions from people who you're told to obey?"

She started to nod by lifting her head some and it seemed something was fighting the action as she proceeded to nod, but much more haltingly than before. Traning versus preference conflict, perhaps?

"Do you follow instructions from people you like?"

This time the nod was much less mechanical and not halting at all. This could prove rather curious if tested, but those thoughts were all academic as I put the packet into the somewhat-hidden office safe. I then moved towards the door. "Come on, Cleo. Let's head into the house and to bed. You know the way to the door."

A flicker of expression fluttered across her face as she got up and padded across to the door, then out into the hall, then workshop. I lost sight of her as I was busy shutting the lights off and locking the doors behind me. I caught up with her as she was standing by the overhead door to the garage bay. I smiled and walked over to the people-door on the side and opened it. "This way, then straight ahead to the next door."

Cleo padded through the opened door, which I shut behind me and we crossed the narrow yard space towards the door to the mudroom of the house. Peaches came over to greet us, at which point Cleo stopped and froze in place, watching Peaches and then looking to me for direction. "It's ok to greet her, Cleo. She lives here just like you do now."

As Peaches would pass by Cleo would lean out a bit to sniff my cougar pet. Peaches, for her part, was sniffing Cleo all over, then started to growl a bit.

"Peaches, quitdat! This is Cleo and you need to be good to her." Peaches sat down and made a sour expression. I couldn't really blame her for being wary and concerned about this newcomer, especially given the lack of any of the normal body language communication typically present. "It's alright Cleo, you can come on in. Peaches, I guess you can come too." Cleo started padding up the short stairs and Peaches pushed past both her and me to get into the mudroom first. I left the outer door open and opened the door to the kitchen itself, letting both cats through before shutting the outside door.

Stepping into the kitchen, Cleo was there waiting for me just standing near the door. I could hear Peaches bouncing around the living room, as was her habit, but she quickly came back to the kitchen to see why the newcomer wasn't joining her in bouncing on the sofa and chairs. I couldn't help but laugh as Peaches stood in the doorway between the kitchen and living room, sat down, and made a sour face again. "Yeah, I know... Cleo isn't like you. But that's alright. You're not like her, either." I didn't know if either cat understood that but I said it anyway.

Cleo padded about the kitchen with me as I made some sandwiches and grabbed a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos to munch on. I still couldn't get over her... well... brainless dazed expression. The stilted, mechanical walk was understandable since fine motor control usually goes to hell with any brain injury. She just looked like she walked odd unless she looked right at you. A thought passed through my mind and I smiled broadly. That'd sure fuck with Jack Bennin if I brought her to work. He might even be so creeped out by her stare that he wouldn't come back to bother me in my office anymore unless he knows for sure she's not there.

As I was pondering this I went from the kitchen to the living room and popped on the TV. Cleo stood next to where I was seated on the sofa and just looked at me. I told her, "You can lay down if you want to, Cleo." She looked at Peaches, then at me, and laid down right there at my feet, with Peaches jumping up to take up the rest of the sofa, rump against my right leg as both cats settled in.

As I turned on the television and put my feet up, Cleo rolled to her side and laid out fully and started to snooze. I smiled and murmured. "That's it, girl. Welcome to your new home."