All Hail the Shifter King
Title: Guided Tour
Word Count: 642
Crossposted here at runaway_tales
While most of the compound was spartan at best, it was obvious that some great care and attention had gone into the construction of the surgical theatre. As soon as the heavy door closed behind them the room fell into a perfect hush, so quiet that Katrina could hear her heartbeat in her ears. It wasn't a small room by any means - the tiered seats rising away from the stage in a tight semi-circle could easily accommodate dozens of people, possibly one hundred - but the lack of sound lent a sense of claustrophobia to it, the distinct impression that the walls were closing it. She remained rooted in her spot as Gavin stepped toward the raised dais, her nostrils stinging from the tangy, burning cloud antiseptic cleaner fumes that hung like an ominous cloud in the air.
"Doctor Ramsay teaches here," he said, tapping his fingers thoughtfully on one of the backless stools that sat near the stainless steel table. "We've not caught many of them, but occasionally we'll get our hands on an adolescent, extremely rare occasions an adult." He seemed about to say more, opening and closing his mouth several times, before he finally added, "I know your stance on this is hardly accommodating, Kitkat, but it's very necessary."
"I don't see how this could be necessary," she said quietly, her voice too loud in her ears and drowned by heaviness of the room.
"These things, they're medical marvels," he told her. "Nothing Eugene's tested has stuck. Everything from salmonella to cancer to legacy plagues, they shrug off. Their bodies aren't just designed to survive, they're designed to endure."
"They said once that sharks don't get cancer, too," she pointed out. "And suddenly shark cartilage was the hottest health trend on the planet. Eight species went extinct in five years."
"This is different."
"The only thing that's different is that the Sanction made it illegal to do this." She spread her arms, gesturing to the room. "We're here to study, not slaughter. These things, whatever they are, they fit every category for 'endangered' that exists!" She held up a hand in front of her and started counting off on her fingers. "Their habitat is an extremely small area, to which they're limited to an even smaller portion of that, their population size based on your current observations is what, again?"
Gavin took off his glasses, pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed heavily.
"Less than three thousand," he murmured.
"Less than three thousand!" she repeated, her voice rising. "And in all your observations you have yet to see anything younger than an adolescent -"
"It's reasonable to believe that the young are kept very well hidden," he interrupted.
"- and you've only seen the same handful of mature -"
"Also reasonable to believe that a small subgroup maintains particular areas of the territory," he said.
"But you don't know!" she snapped, abandoning her list and throwing her hands in the air. "You don't know, Gavin, that's my point! Nobody knows anything about them, but we're still here hacking them up or injecting them with God knows what every chance we get, without any regard for the Saction and -"
"Oh, you and your bloody Sanction!" he barked, the sudden volume of his voice startling Katrina so badly she flinched back a step. "Sanction this, Sanction that! You've no idea what you're talking about, you know that? Think because you've been staring at some damn ferns your entire career you're a goddamn expert?" He hopped off the stage and stalked toward her. "These things don't exist as far as the rest of the world is concerned, and won't until we decide to tell the councils about them, so your precious Sanction doesn't apply, understand? And until it does, we are free to conduct whatever research we believe is necessary."
Word Count: 642
Crossposted here at runaway_tales
While most of the compound was spartan at best, it was obvious that some great care and attention had gone into the construction of the surgical theatre. As soon as the heavy door closed behind them the room fell into a perfect hush, so quiet that Katrina could hear her heartbeat in her ears. It wasn't a small room by any means - the tiered seats rising away from the stage in a tight semi-circle could easily accommodate dozens of people, possibly one hundred - but the lack of sound lent a sense of claustrophobia to it, the distinct impression that the walls were closing it. She remained rooted in her spot as Gavin stepped toward the raised dais, her nostrils stinging from the tangy, burning cloud antiseptic cleaner fumes that hung like an ominous cloud in the air.
"Doctor Ramsay teaches here," he said, tapping his fingers thoughtfully on one of the backless stools that sat near the stainless steel table. "We've not caught many of them, but occasionally we'll get our hands on an adolescent, extremely rare occasions an adult." He seemed about to say more, opening and closing his mouth several times, before he finally added, "I know your stance on this is hardly accommodating, Kitkat, but it's very necessary."
"I don't see how this could be necessary," she said quietly, her voice too loud in her ears and drowned by heaviness of the room.
"These things, they're medical marvels," he told her. "Nothing Eugene's tested has stuck. Everything from salmonella to cancer to legacy plagues, they shrug off. Their bodies aren't just designed to survive, they're designed to endure."
"They said once that sharks don't get cancer, too," she pointed out. "And suddenly shark cartilage was the hottest health trend on the planet. Eight species went extinct in five years."
"This is different."
"The only thing that's different is that the Sanction made it illegal to do this." She spread her arms, gesturing to the room. "We're here to study, not slaughter. These things, whatever they are, they fit every category for 'endangered' that exists!" She held up a hand in front of her and started counting off on her fingers. "Their habitat is an extremely small area, to which they're limited to an even smaller portion of that, their population size based on your current observations is what, again?"
Gavin took off his glasses, pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed heavily.
"Less than three thousand," he murmured.
"Less than three thousand!" she repeated, her voice rising. "And in all your observations you have yet to see anything younger than an adolescent -"
"It's reasonable to believe that the young are kept very well hidden," he interrupted.
"- and you've only seen the same handful of mature -"
"Also reasonable to believe that a small subgroup maintains particular areas of the territory," he said.
"But you don't know!" she snapped, abandoning her list and throwing her hands in the air. "You don't know, Gavin, that's my point! Nobody knows anything about them, but we're still here hacking them up or injecting them with God knows what every chance we get, without any regard for the Saction and -"
"Oh, you and your bloody Sanction!" he barked, the sudden volume of his voice startling Katrina so badly she flinched back a step. "Sanction this, Sanction that! You've no idea what you're talking about, you know that? Think because you've been staring at some damn ferns your entire career you're a goddamn expert?" He hopped off the stage and stalked toward her. "These things don't exist as far as the rest of the world is concerned, and won't until we decide to tell the councils about them, so your precious Sanction doesn't apply, understand? And until it does, we are free to conduct whatever research we believe is necessary."