Whistling noise
So I'm back after a three week absence.... Exams are over and whatnot. I had ten of the buggers and three were on saturday - turning up at school on the weekend is a profoundly disturbing experience.
Our ducklings all disappeared. We're getting cows on saturday
Here's part two of watchers.
Watching the Watchers
Maiyri
K+
Don’t own anything you recognise.
Part two of Thunderstorms. Like this part. It’s from Jeb’s point of view, back when he was younger and a bit more uncertain about what he does. I figure he got important within the School hierarchy because he spent those two years with Max.
1000 words.
--
The video feed from the experim...children’s bedrooms was grainy with the interference, but still, Jeb could see them quite clearly. The thunderstorm had knocked out communications with the Director, so he was so his own for now - but he wasn’t worried. They’d get the feed back soon, and the experi…children were too busy with watching the storm to wonder at what he was doing.
He had to finish the latest report on their progress before the storm was out, it was late enough as it was without this unexpected but not unwelcome delay. Some people, the Director included, did not know that the exper…children took up a lot of his time, and there was only one of him, and six of them. That certainly did not make the situation any easier. Most people only had to deal with becoming a parent to one child at a time, six distrusful children, three of them already ten years old was quite another matter.
“The Interactions of the Avian-Hybrids within a Non-Laboratory Environment” was a boring enough report. He didn’t know these expe…children very well, he hadn’t been their primary scientist, but that, of course, was why he’d been chosen for this. Roger Andrews was brilliant as the Avian project’s director, but he had no patience with the expe…children. And of course, as the Director had said, ‘you have a son of your own, Dr. Batchelder’.
A son who was still back at the School, who, he was assured, was being taken care of well. Jeb himself wasn’t sure what to think of the boy, he’d taken to hanging around this set of expe…children, which wouldn’t do. Ari couldn’t have any sympathy for the experiments that he would one day do himself, when he’d finished his education, of course. Jeb was looking forward to teaching him.
But, he’d gotten off topic again. Sighing, he straightened his glasses and turned back to the footage. Three figures in Maximum’s room, three in the one belonging to the younger two girls. The older trio had proved more suspicious than the younger trio, but over the last month they’d accepted their current situation. That was a good place to start, and he supposed he’d be able to shorten his report if he included some of the footage he’d stored.
Then next, he might report on each of the ex…children, because their own personal development was interesting to him, and might just perhaps be to his peers. Also, it would be good to have a record from the very beginning to this to compare when this experiment finished.
Maximum herself was the most interesting. She’d proved in the past to be strong and determined, but now she was showing extraordinary concern and caring for the younger trio, and had assumed leadership of this ‘flock’ as they called themselves, despite Fang being the stronger alpha male, as they’d thought. The dynamic was an interesting one. Fang had accepted this leadership without any comment, but then the boy spoke so little that at first they hadn’t thought he could speak at all. He was strong, stronger than unmodified humans twice his age and three times his weight, and intelligent. But, all the children were, and they’d made more than a few leaps of logic that had been mind boggling, even to one so educated as himself.
Iggy was with Fang and Max in the room, watching, or in his case, listening to the thunderstorms. Andrews had been all for the termination of this particular experiment after that shocking failure of the night vision enhancing operation, but they’d reasoned that, even blind, this one still had it’s uses. Iggy was turning out to be almost as interesting as Max, though in a trivial kind of way. He wasn’t strong enough to be Alpha male, and physically impaired. He was the proverbial ‘spanner in the works’, another to disrupt the Max-Fang dynamic that they’d all expected, and hadn’t quite got. Both treated Iggy kindly, but seemed to include him in with the younger trio of children more often.
Nudge, as the older in that trio, had turned out to be a complete opposite of Fang, and, once given the opportunity to speak, had barely stopped for breath. The girl seemed to idolize Max, and often followed her around. She also imitated Max’s caring for the two-year-old Subject Eleven, who had only recently been named Angel.
The Gasman, despite the early predictions of gastric failure, had managed to flourish, and while only four, had already developed a distinct personality. He seemed to have the protecting instinct, as the grainy camera shot showed him hiding his younger sister from the unknown noise of the thunderstorm. There were a few doubters among the scientists, and he’d never been one of those, who’d thought that these children acted on nothing more than instinct - for the first few years that was certainly true.
Eleven, Angel, she’d turned out to be more than they’d hoped. They’d never before attempted the Psi-grafting into an experiment of another kind, and certainly not the very valuable Avian-hybrids. The girl, though only two, had shown that she was indeed the most perfect hybrid they’d ever created - highly intelligent and almost perfect in proportion, with a seamless grafting between her human structure and avian-altered physiology. He did not know why they’d chosen to send the girl - surely they would want her for experimentation?
The monitor flickered back into life - they’d obviously managed to rig up a better system as the storm still raged around the mountain. “Have you got my report, Batchelder?” the monitor snapped.
“Just about to send it,” he replied distractedly. “Is the line secure?”
“Of course.”
I hit send, and then quickly close the window as footsteps pound down the hallway. “Jeb, Jeb!”
Another crisis to deal with.
Our ducklings all disappeared. We're getting cows on saturday
Here's part two of watchers.
Watching the Watchers
Maiyri
K+
Don’t own anything you recognise.
Part two of Thunderstorms. Like this part. It’s from Jeb’s point of view, back when he was younger and a bit more uncertain about what he does. I figure he got important within the School hierarchy because he spent those two years with Max.
1000 words.
--
The video feed from the experim...children’s bedrooms was grainy with the interference, but still, Jeb could see them quite clearly. The thunderstorm had knocked out communications with the Director, so he was so his own for now - but he wasn’t worried. They’d get the feed back soon, and the experi…children were too busy with watching the storm to wonder at what he was doing.
He had to finish the latest report on their progress before the storm was out, it was late enough as it was without this unexpected but not unwelcome delay. Some people, the Director included, did not know that the exper…children took up a lot of his time, and there was only one of him, and six of them. That certainly did not make the situation any easier. Most people only had to deal with becoming a parent to one child at a time, six distrusful children, three of them already ten years old was quite another matter.
“The Interactions of the Avian-Hybrids within a Non-Laboratory Environment” was a boring enough report. He didn’t know these expe…children very well, he hadn’t been their primary scientist, but that, of course, was why he’d been chosen for this. Roger Andrews was brilliant as the Avian project’s director, but he had no patience with the expe…children. And of course, as the Director had said, ‘you have a son of your own, Dr. Batchelder’.
A son who was still back at the School, who, he was assured, was being taken care of well. Jeb himself wasn’t sure what to think of the boy, he’d taken to hanging around this set of expe…children, which wouldn’t do. Ari couldn’t have any sympathy for the experiments that he would one day do himself, when he’d finished his education, of course. Jeb was looking forward to teaching him.
But, he’d gotten off topic again. Sighing, he straightened his glasses and turned back to the footage. Three figures in Maximum’s room, three in the one belonging to the younger two girls. The older trio had proved more suspicious than the younger trio, but over the last month they’d accepted their current situation. That was a good place to start, and he supposed he’d be able to shorten his report if he included some of the footage he’d stored.
Then next, he might report on each of the ex…children, because their own personal development was interesting to him, and might just perhaps be to his peers. Also, it would be good to have a record from the very beginning to this to compare when this experiment finished.
Maximum herself was the most interesting. She’d proved in the past to be strong and determined, but now she was showing extraordinary concern and caring for the younger trio, and had assumed leadership of this ‘flock’ as they called themselves, despite Fang being the stronger alpha male, as they’d thought. The dynamic was an interesting one. Fang had accepted this leadership without any comment, but then the boy spoke so little that at first they hadn’t thought he could speak at all. He was strong, stronger than unmodified humans twice his age and three times his weight, and intelligent. But, all the children were, and they’d made more than a few leaps of logic that had been mind boggling, even to one so educated as himself.
Iggy was with Fang and Max in the room, watching, or in his case, listening to the thunderstorms. Andrews had been all for the termination of this particular experiment after that shocking failure of the night vision enhancing operation, but they’d reasoned that, even blind, this one still had it’s uses. Iggy was turning out to be almost as interesting as Max, though in a trivial kind of way. He wasn’t strong enough to be Alpha male, and physically impaired. He was the proverbial ‘spanner in the works’, another to disrupt the Max-Fang dynamic that they’d all expected, and hadn’t quite got. Both treated Iggy kindly, but seemed to include him in with the younger trio of children more often.
Nudge, as the older in that trio, had turned out to be a complete opposite of Fang, and, once given the opportunity to speak, had barely stopped for breath. The girl seemed to idolize Max, and often followed her around. She also imitated Max’s caring for the two-year-old Subject Eleven, who had only recently been named Angel.
The Gasman, despite the early predictions of gastric failure, had managed to flourish, and while only four, had already developed a distinct personality. He seemed to have the protecting instinct, as the grainy camera shot showed him hiding his younger sister from the unknown noise of the thunderstorm. There were a few doubters among the scientists, and he’d never been one of those, who’d thought that these children acted on nothing more than instinct - for the first few years that was certainly true.
Eleven, Angel, she’d turned out to be more than they’d hoped. They’d never before attempted the Psi-grafting into an experiment of another kind, and certainly not the very valuable Avian-hybrids. The girl, though only two, had shown that she was indeed the most perfect hybrid they’d ever created - highly intelligent and almost perfect in proportion, with a seamless grafting between her human structure and avian-altered physiology. He did not know why they’d chosen to send the girl - surely they would want her for experimentation?
The monitor flickered back into life - they’d obviously managed to rig up a better system as the storm still raged around the mountain. “Have you got my report, Batchelder?” the monitor snapped.
“Just about to send it,” he replied distractedly. “Is the line secure?”
“Of course.”
I hit send, and then quickly close the window as footsteps pound down the hallway. “Jeb, Jeb!”
Another crisis to deal with.