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I was one of the first the change happened to. To this day no one knows why it occurred or even exactly how it happened for that matter

There has been a great deal of speculation, blame, and even small wars fought over it, but none of that matters to me. I have been changed and will be this way for the remainder of my life for however long it is

I went to work that day, expecting another boring, normal day. Was I ever wrong. About half way through I started to feel ill and eventually had to leave work and go back to my parents where I had been living, still saving to pay off college loans and get a place of my own

My mom tucked me in bed, gave me medication, just as if I were ten years old again. I was so out of it that I didn't even care. The next morning I vaguely heard her say that some virus was going around and that it was on the news, and that they were recommending that everyone take precautions.

Turns out it didn't matter a damn bit. It only effected certain people and there was no way to stop it

I was more fortunate that some

I awoke in a cold sweat, body shaking, feeling as if there were both fire and ice running up and down my nerves. i wanted to scream, but I couldn't manage the breath. Then the change started happening. In the space of an hour I went from a normal 25 year old male human and became an 80 foot tall humanoid tiger.

I was fortunate, as I said, that my parents only sustained minor injuries from the change. Mom had a broken arm, dad a concusion as the house collapsed on them.

I was also fortunate that I was not put down by the military or well meaning people with guns. I don't know what percentage of us fell that day before we even had a chance to come to grips with what had happened.

I'm not sure that we have. Not sure we ever will. Things are just...different.

Those first few weeks were a nightmare. Sensory overload, doctors, scientists, government officials, news reporters, helicopters, and just way too much activity all surrounding me.

Even then the talk of "freak" and "monster" and "inhuman" were bandied about. I think my parents and Dr. Stevenson did their best to shield me from it all, as did David Macon from some government agency that I could never get straight. He's currently the leader of Macro-Human Relations Board. He's on our side, fortunately.

I had to learn to move again, learn to walk. All of the things we take for granted, having learned them from the time we are born on were lost to me and the others, not to mention all the other things that humans simply would not understand. Greater senses, instincts, and other things that humans lack.

I had to adjust to peoples fear of me. Even my parents were afraid at times. When I had to pick my mom up to get her away from the "Pure Human League" she nearly had a heart attack, even though she knew I would never hurt her. Her cries still haunt me from time to time, despite her forgiving me.

Laws were passed shortly after the first year that granted us special protection, free medical services, and the like. It also came with strings attached. Submitting to examinations, counseling sessions, and other things that need not be discussed in my mind.

And so, finally, it was decided that all of us, the Changed, should try to fit into society as best we could, learn to adapt and be a part of the human race. Dr Stevenson did not agree with this concept and David was also vocal at the way it was implemented. It was engineered more by politicians looking to be reelected verses any real concern for me and my kind.

Part of it was finding a job. And so the Macro Workforce and Development Board was created.

I sat down, outside of course, and Mrs Browning looked out at me from her specially situated office on the fourth floor of the building. It allowed her to be somewhat at my level

She smiled at me and bid me to be comfortable. I simply nodded and waited for the inane questions to begin.

"So, Mr. Clarke, what was your line of work before the change occured?"

I shrugged. "I have a degree in computer science with a minor in industrial fabrication."

"Interesting!" She bubbled "I suppose we could at least try to find you work along those lines."

I snorted before I could stop myself. Her skirt blew backwards and wrapped around her legs and she grabbed her clip board tighter. "Sorry," I told her. "Unless you have a several hundred foot wide keyboard, a super sized mouse and monitor, I can't see that happening. Further my memory is a bit hazy at times so I don't remember all that I learned."

"Oh, well, that is too bad isn't it?" she said sympathetically. "I really think the only thing you will be able to do is help with large construction efforts, moving heavy items, things of that nature. Your size and strength would be a great asset."

"Oh yes, from programmer and designer to strong back and drone," I said bitterly. "What more could I want out of life?"

"Well, I am sorry for that, but there is little else you can do that I can see."

"And you assume that someone would want me to work for them. There's a large percent of the populace that still scream when they see us coming."

"Oh, they can't reject you; that's illegal!"

"Legal or not, they will try."

"And face massive fines!"

I sighed. "Even if you force them to take me, what good will it do? It'll only breed resentment and cause problems and I've faced that enough as it is."

"It can't be that bad!"

I growled before I could stop myself and she went white as a ghost. Dr. Stevenson had worked with me long and hard to help overcome that instinct. Something about me growling causes humans to freeze up and sometimes loose control of their bladder. I winced, knowing that I had messed up and knowing that I would be reprimanded by the Relations Board over it.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Browning, I didn't mean to growl."

She shook herself and stammered. "Th-that's ok, M-mr Clarke. Ah. Why don't I put in some requests and get some referrals for you? I'll call you when they're ready, or call your handlers."

I held in another growl at the word handler. "That would be fine."

"Alright then," she said, trying to smile at me, but only succeeded in looking strangely consitpated. She quickly went back inside her office, shut the door, and lowered the drapes

I sighed and very carefully got to my feet, making sure the area around me was clear. In those early days before they got me out into the country side it was all to easy to stumble on things or knock down trees.

I got to my feet and looked out over the compound that was more or less my home. It was big by necessity, quite huge for a human. All of the services for me were congregated here, along with a fair number of the research scientists, doctors, bureaucrats, and others that were "responsible for my welfare". My parents also lived on "base" as it were, having been offered retirement of a sort.

"Well Jason, that went quite well," a voice said in my ear. I had a transponder setup so I could more easily hear those who spoke with me often. I looked down to see the small form that owned the voice. Dr Stevenson.

I shook my head. "Lousy as expected."

He sighed. "I'm afraid so my friend. I told them it was a bad idea but they simply don't listen."

"I know Dr Stevenson. You've always looked out for me."

"I do my best, Jason. Well, it's that time again! I have to draw blood, measure, all those great things that make the program go round!"

I sighed. "Alright."

"I don't do it to harm you."

"I know."

"Sorry that it doesn't make it any easier."

"I know that to, Dr Stevenson."

I followed him over to the area where the examinations were done or I should say I followed his motorcycle. Obviously, I can easily outrun a human.

The "exam room" was actually a converted air craft hanger with an open top and gantry set up. The various humans would swarm around on it, poking and prodding at me. I'm still not used to it. Most of them try to be efficent, but there are always a few that seem to want to find out just how much I feel the jabs of needles, the slice of scalpels and other things

Dr Stevenson tries to weed them out, but he can't always. It's hard for me to identify them as well, not being able to turn my head while in the gantry. They know it and take advantage.

I disrobed, another embarrassment, and Dr Stevenson oversaw the exam and urged his staff to get it done quickly. I was grateful. It had been stressful enough today.

"Alright, Jason, you're as healthy as you can be. Height is steady, weight is steady, no real changes that we can see."

"Thank you, Dr."

"It's not a problem, Jason. Have your eyes been bothering you any further?"

"No Sir, I've adjusted to them" I had problems with my night vision, or rather had problems coping with it for some time.

"Alright," he said. He leaned out on the gantry and I lowered my head down so he could pet the sides of my cheeks. A simple thing, but very comforting to me and to him as well.

"Get on back to your folks and tell them I said hello," he said in a gentle voice. "I'll go hunt down Mrs Browning and see if I can get you into someplace that will at least respect you."

"Thank you, Dr Stevenson."

"I have a first name, you know."

"And you know I'll never use it."

He laughed and shook his head. "Stubborn old cat!"

I laughed softly and walked the short distance back to my "rooms" and my parents house.

Mother came out when she saw me settle in with a worried look on her face. A quick sniff and I could tell she was agitated. "What's up, mom?"

"It's that placement board thing!" she said, waving a note around. "They say they've found a job for you already!"

I jerked back in surprise. "Really? Where? Doing what?"

She looked up at me her level of agitation rising. "They want you to help pull up rocks and trees for a mining operation!"

I shook my head. "Well, I guess I could do that."

"You're not some peon!"

"Mom, I know that, but there's not much else I can do right now."

She sighed and looked down, her hands reflexively crumpling the paper. I could tell there was more. "Mom?" I asked softly.

She looked up, tears on her cheeks. "It's for Grant Mining and Construction."

My heart skipped a beat. Mr Grant was one of the well known contributors to the Pure Human League. He hated me and my kind.

I didn't know what to think. What could he possibly want with me?

To be continued . . . . . .