The Species Serum: Genesis

By W.J. Landeye

Lieutenant Bill Davis finally retired from the fire rescue services. He had the necessary time on the job, but really considered himself too young to retire. Unfortunately, his body was telling him otherwise. Not long after, he felt the changes begin. They were minor at first but progressed to more and more obvious signs of a progressive (and massive) change. He and his wife became worried, and when they sought medical help, they were surprised by the government's involvement. Follow "The Species Serum: Genesis" as it begins the tale of the sudden evolution of a new species on Earth. Come along as our heroes weather repeated emotional storms and work their way through the research and the discovery of their plight... As well as their pursuit of a return to a redefined 'normal life.' This is a story intended for mature audiences.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Dec 11, 2023
• ISBN: 9798350922103

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This is a work of fiction.

No character in this book is meant to represent any person, real or fictitious.

Any similarities are purely coincidental.

The Species Serum: Genesis

Book One

Copyright © 2023 W.J. Landeye

References from The Genetic Park are used with permission:

Copyright © 2010 Malagua, A.K.A Andres Chion Olrtegui

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

ISBN: 979-8-35092-209-7

eBook ISBN: 979-8-35092-210-3

This book is dedicated to my family.

Just like my main character, I feel there is nothing more important.

After all, life is just time spent frivolously

without the descendants we leave and

the love that we send them on with.

Contents

1. The Journey

2. A new life

3. Reunion

4. The Pack

5. The Girls

6. Identity

7. Love and support

8. The Importance of Family

9. Our Posterity?

10. Drafted!

11. Pack Instinct

12. Rapid Changes

13. Assumptions Can Be Deceiving

14. Same Family, Different Species

15. Adjustments

16. The Military Experience

17. Dreams?

18. Premonitions?

19. Surprises!

20. Bonds of love

21. Marriage!

22. The Ceremony

23. Genesis!

Chapter One

The Journey

I was practically jittering with excitement as we started on our trip to the resort park. Even the usual stares were not on my radar. I was so looking forward to the chance to have our old life back, even if it was only temporary. Even my wife, Allie, seemed to look forward to the vacation.

Of course, that was before the multiple delays and problems with our flight and the connecting flight. I explained I didn’t book my ticket as a standby so many times that it hurt when Allie said to just stop explaining. It shocked me. I realized I had missed the obvious, and that reason was just given as an excuse. Usually, I’m the one who picks up on that kind of crap. I chalked it up to focusing on the destination and just not paying attention.

After that, Allie seemed more and more distant. I had become sensitive to that because I love her . . . and have for over thirty-two years. I was desperate to save our marriage. After the past eighteen months, I thought we had found something that would sort of counteract some of the damage that had been done. My hopes were still high at this point and got a boost when, after a little more than an hour of pacing, Allie sat next to me on the love seat in the airport waiting area. I turned toward her, and she laid back, resting her head high on my chest. I put my arms around her, rested my chin and neck on her head, and sighed. As I sat there, my mind wandered.

I meandered through the memories of the last eighteen months. Still, I haven’t accepted the outcome. I guess I have a hard time accepting anything that I can’t review and understand for myself. I know it had to be hard on her, too. Allie was never someone who tolerated changes. Especially major changes in her life. For me, I had been adapting to changing circumstances ‘on the fly,’ as they say, for most of my career as a hazardous material/tactical response paramedic and then as a lieutenant for the fire department. Changing circumstances come with those job titles. Then again, not the type of changes we’d just been through.

After thirty years of service, and at just age fifty-three, I had called it quits. The multiple knee injuries and surgeries, as well as the degenerative changes in the joints, besides the pain, had gotten the better of me. After filing for retirement, I found that being home was stressful on my marriage. I couldn’t understand that. Allie always remained steadfast, even when I went from being a regular medic in a dangerous neighborhood to a Haz-mat tech and then a tactical response medic. She stated her misgivings at each step, but stood with me anyway. We raised three children. We did everything that goes with a marriage like ours. It shocked me when my retirement turned out to be a strain on our marriage. If only I had known how many more shocks were coming our way.

Almost at the same time I retired, COVID-19 hit. I thought myself lucky. Even when everyone in the family got sick, no one got hospitalized. We all came through. It seemed we got past it. Then, two years later, I started noticing some startling changes in my body. They weren’t severe or shocking at that point, just weird sensations. I felt fine. I chalked it up to dieting and losing over forty-four pounds—and I was still on the diet.

Then the dreams came. To this day, I feel weird just thinking about it. I had a recurring dream: I became a tail-less anthropomorphic wolf girl. I wasn’t too quick to tell Allie about these dreams. Instead, I asked her what she would do if I became a werewolf. Without hesitation she said, "You’re so weird! But I would still love you and stay with you. Still, I pushed, and she repeated, I’d still love you. I felt better but couldn’t leave it there. The need to go the rest of the way was irresistible. I asked, Even if I became a female werewolf? I might as well have run headfirst into a brick wall. Her immediate and startled answer was, Oh, no way!" That hurt. It shocked me, but more because of the change in answer based on the result. Of course, she didn’t know the entire story—that in the dream, my mind wasn’t affected, I was still me.

She must have seen the pain in my reaction. Within moments, she asked why I would ask such a thing—did I want to be a woman? I said, No, I just had a dream that I changed and that it wasn’t in my control. I told her that in the dream, my mind, memories, and thoughts hadn’t changed; just my physical appearance. Then I couldn’t help pointing out that I stood with her through her breast cancer and the resulting changes. In hindsight, not a good move. Most likely seemed like guilting her.

In the long run, it was Allie who noticed the white hair as it grew on my upper chest and across my shoulders. She also noticed other changes. That’s when we went to the doctor. Not long after, the government got involved. A couple of suit-wearing military types ushered me away. Allie was told they would let her know where I was as soon as they could.

They were polite . . . not the movie stereotype of government scientists who locked the subject away. In fact, after they concluded I was not a threat of contagion (or savage attack), I could roam the grounds of the national lab facility and have Allie visit me. I thought everything was okay then. The first visit dispelled that belief . . . RAPIDLY.

They called me to report to the family center. When I got there, they told me that Allie would visit but not to be too hurt if she couldn’t handle seeing me the first time. By this time, the change was complete. One of the younger lab techs pointed out to me that I looked like a character from that MMORPG game that’s been around forever. I didn’t have the urge to tell him I’d been playing it since before he was born. While I sat in the room waiting for Allie, Dr. Emily Schrang was going on about what a shock it would be for my wife and that I shouldn’t expect her to accept it right off, even though she’d seen all the videos of my exams during all phases of the change.

Just then, they escorted Allie in. I jumped up with my arms extended. All I wanted in the universe at that moment was to hold my wife. The look of fright (and the tears rolling down her cheeks) crushed my heart. I moved toward her to follow as she turned and ran back out the door. But I felt Emily’s gentle hand on my arm as she said, Bill, don’t. Give her time. She added, I told you it would be a shock for her.

The next few visits got better, although fear stopped me from reaching out for Allie and frightening her away again. Then one magical day, Allie reached up and put her arms around me and gave me a hug. I hugged back with tears in my eyes and noticed that her eyes were closed. I felt her relax. She put her head on my shoulder and said, "Now I recognize you. I can feel you in there. I almost broke down. She said, Jess is waiting for you to come home." I realized as much as I loved all three of my children, as well as my grandchildren, I hadn’t even thought of them in the face of losing my wife. I was a little ashamed of that, but happy to hear they missed me.

After over ten months of exams, blood tests, and miscellaneous imaging tests, the scientists said I could go home. They told me not to make any statements to the press, just try to live your life. Then they handed me a purse and my first instinct was to say, I don’t carry a purse. As I looked down past what had to be D cup breasts, I realized it was appropriate. I opened it up and found it empty except for two wallets. One I recognized as my badge wallet from the fire department in which I used to carry my badge and retired ID card. To my surprise, when I opened it, I found a retired ID and my badge, but the ID card had a pretty wolf’s face and the name read Lt. Willa Joan Davis. I opened the other wallet and found all my licenses, permits, and credit cards. All were displaying my current photo, gender, and adjusted name. It was weird seeing that name instead of my given name of William John Davis.

Emily smiled and said, Thank you for your service. She explained that because of scientific evidence of the transformation, as well as the fact that I was both former military and a member of the Diplomatic Protection Unit of the fire department (the latter, of course, monitored by the US Secret Service since they are part of the presidential entourage), they could backtrack my history and have it reflect my current physical situation as if I were born this way. I wasn’t sure whether that was good, but it was easier than starting over.

Emily also saved the best for last. As we went through our last debrief, along with pointing out that I should not discuss the facility or the security procedures and all the other usual government research foolishness, she got around to my condition. The regeneration of every cell in my body and the conversion of my internal organs had regressed my age about twenty-five years. At that moment, it hit me. I blurted out, "Wait, does that mean I could get pregnant?! Emily giggled. Yes, we talked about that. You’ve been getting that time of the month, remember?" Thank God for fur. My cheeks had to be glowing red under there (and I’m not easily embarrassed). They still had no clue what had caused the transformation. However, my genetic structure appeared stable. She stated every test showed no sign that my receiving the Covid vaccine had anything to do with this. I received handshakes and hugs and even a few kisses as I walked outside to my car with my wife waiting. I remember thinking I can get on with my life! Boy, was I wrong.

It didn’t take us long to see the problems my family and I would be facing. We pulled into the complex where we had been renting a two-bedroom apartment. I noticed quite a few people that didn’t seem like residents. While strange, I didn’t care. I was home! As Allie and I got out of the car, people stared. Maybe I was just hyper aware, or maybe I was experiencing the empathic sense some researchers claim canines have. Either way, it didn’t matter . . . it made my skin crawl. As we opened the apartment door, Allie called out, We’re here! Dad’s home! I guess I should have discussed our entrance before we got there.

All three of my kids and the three grandkids looked toward the front door. The smiles turned to open mouths, and the oldest grandchild asked, Where’s Poppy? Christine, my oldest (and the mother of the grandchildren) looked at him and said, "That’s Poppy! in a rather annoyed tone. I was about to say not to get annoyed with him when my son Will (my middle child) beat me to it and said, Don’t get mad at him! You can’t expect him to understand what you told him about what happened. He continued with, I don’t think I can call HER Dad either."

It was the liberal of the family (my youngest daughter), Jessica, who relieved what was becoming a very uncomfortable homecoming. She stepped forward from the kitchen area of the apartment, put her arms out and said, It’ll be weird for a while, but I still love you. I’m glad you’re home. With that, she hugged me, and as the tears welled up in my eyes. I said, I love you too. Then, for the second time since this all started, someone told me, "Regardless of what I saw as I came over to hug you, as soon as you hugged me back, I recognized you. I felt my dad! With that, the group hug started with everyone except Will. He said, I still love you; I just don’t know how to deal with this. Just give me some time." Even the dog seemed to recognize me.

After it was all over, and the kids and grandkids returned to their homes, I figured things would settle down and become mundane as we lived our lives. Allie seemed to go back to the way we were before, and we continued on. The following week proved far more difficult than anyone expected.

It started with a cable news report on the local channel showing a video of Allie and me getting into our car (with me driving, of course) and the reporter making some foolish comments about not knowing where this creature came from, let alone how it could drive a car. She even implied only humans could have a driver’s license. A guest speaker on the program said that he had heard rumors of a company that could manipulate anyone’s DNA to change their appearance for a price, and that she should apologize for the human comment. The reporter looked shocked and said if that creature had ever been human, she was sorry. That was a trigger event that started a nightmare.

The protests of silly crap (everything from where I came from, to a hard-core Christian group chanting that Allie and I were going to hell for practicing lesbian bestiality) became a daily encounter at the gate of our apartment complex. It got so bad that we had to have Dr. Schrang use the government to keep the landlord of the complex from evicting us. That only increased my feeling that I was not taking care of my wife in any meaningful way. I was afraid of losing her. That feeling of distance between us was there again, and I wasn’t the type of person who could leave her alone. I had to know what was bothering her in her words, in the hope I could take some of the strain off her. Of course, she wasn’t the type to talk about her feelings. Throughout our years together, she had always buried her feelings (and knowing the reasons, I couldn’t blame her). But not communicating could destroy a marriage.

The climax came one evening when we returned late from a shopping trip. We thought we got lucky, as there were no protesters at the complex entrance. I thought to myself, the police are getting good at shooing them away. Besides that, no one knew our apartment number, so we had never had to deal with anything beyond the entrance. We pulled into our parking space, got out, and as Allie opened the back door to get the packages, I heard the soft footsteps coming behind me. I turned in time to catch some dirtbag-looking redneck while he was still outside of arm’s reach. I growled the words What do you want?! and startled him. He cursed, threw the spray can he was carrying on the ground and spit on me. It shocked me to a level of anger that I had never felt before. I half-barked, half-howled at him, but he was already running back to his lifted pickup truck with plates from out-of-state. As he ran, my canid hearing picked up his loud mumbling, They’re never supposed to let you out of the Park without changing you back! It stuck in my head. The shock was also stuck in my head. I had been spat on before (granted, not since I’ve had fur that it could soak into). Why did this enrage me so much?

That’s when it hit me. It wasn’t just that dirtbag that I had frightened almost to death. I shuddered as I turned back to the car to see Allie crying as if she had lost me. I went to hold her, but she put her hands up and backed up. It was the family room all over again. She went into the house, and I let her go. I used a bag to pick up the can of what turned out to be blood-red spray paint. I figured at least I could give it to the police for them to fingerprint. Then I unpacked the car and put the groceries away. During the trips to and from the car, one neighbor yelled from her window that I had scared her kids. I told her to kiss my furry white ass.

As I returned to the apartment, I could hear Allie sobbing in our bedroom. The door was closed. I knocked rather than barging in. All I heard between sobs was, Not now. Please Allie I begged. We need to talk. Lucky thing my hearing is that good now. I heard her moving and had just enough time to clear the doorway. As she emerged from the room, she was already yelling through her sobs, I can’t take this! It’s not fair that I lose the man I love to a genetic anomaly! That hit like a hammer. This had to be fermenting inside her for almost the whole time since all this started—even before I went to the lab. Even knowing her penchant for holding things in, this was worse than I could have imagined. She had always shown this pattern when something was bothering her. I had to get it out of her by agitating her into losing her temper. Then it would all come out. But this was the first time it had come out after just two tries. Allie had to be near her limits.

I tried to calm her. I told her I loved her. Then explained that I needed to protect her and provide for her. The ‘genetic anomaly’ that she had referred to had not taken me away from her. It had just changed our circumstances. She said, "I know that . . . but there’s at least one way you can’t take care of me now. I wouldn’t ask you to. I know how you feel about that."

She was right. I realized that my defense of her (as well as myself) was what had triggered that train of thought. She knew what I told her was true, which is why she had lost it. I believe in God and Christ. While I would never condemn someone else based solely on the Bible’s teachings (vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord, we often forget judgment must precede vengeance.) I have always said I felt that my personal choices on the matter were clear, based on God’s Word. The perfect prison is always one where you form the walls yourself.

I said that we’d never based our marriage on sex. We’d been apart too many times for long periods. Our marriage was always based on our love. That couldn’t change because of physical form or appearance. Her sobbing had slowed by this time. She seemed a little relieved. I know . . . she said, as she gave me a hug. It felt like a warm blanket after being outside in a blizzard. We snuggled up on the couch with my arms around her like we used to and watched the news on TV. After midnight (Allie was already asleep in my arms), I saw a commercial for a vacation resort called The Genetic Park and Resort. The dirtbag’s words came back into my head. I had to find out what this was about. I got Allie into bed, and crawled in next to her, and fell asleep almost instantly after my prayers.

After waking and doing my morning workout routine, I sat down at my desk and got on the phone to Dr. Schrang. She answered the phone herself. Good morning, Emily! I said, as cheerfully as I could. Willa! How are you? Is everything alright? she asked. Everything is fine. I was wondering if you could arrange with the front gate for me to come on the lab property to see you, I replied. Dr. Schrang explained I was always allowed on the property as a visitor. Good timing, too. I’m in my office all day for reports, she said. So, we planned to meet at her office, and I got off the phone.

I got on the internet while I was still at my desk. I looked up the website for the Park. As I read, my head swam. They had decoded mammalian DNA to the point where they could form serums that allowed resort visitors to transform into an anthropomorphic version of any mammal they chose. You could spend your whole vacation as anything you wanted. No wonder all these conspiracy theorists had jumped to the conclusion that I had somehow gotten around the rule that you couldn’t leave the Park as an anthro. I couldn’t believe Emily did not know about this. The website said the Park had opened more than two years before my problem even began.

I arrived at the national lab property and pulled up to the security gate. It surprised me to see one of the DoD police officers I knew from my stay at the facility. A big smile crept across Josh’s face as I pulled even with the booth, and he spotted me behind the wheel. Willa! he said, with his arms outstretched. A quick hug later, he said, You missed us that much already? Do me a favor and step out for a security check on your vehicle, okay? I replied, Sure. As he went through the car inside and out, he came across the spray paint from the night before. What’s this? he asked, as he opened the bag. Josh, don’t touch the can! It’s evidence dropped by some dirtbag when he tried to assault my wife and me. I spoke fast, and he stopped in time. The smile left his face.

"When did this happen? he asked. So, I related the whole incident and the aftermath, and I told him I was here to see Dr. Schrang to ask her to get someone to look into it. Josh replied, I know you and Dr. Schrang are good friends, but she’s only going to give it to us to handle, so I can take this here. You should have an answer before you leave after your visit. He explained that since I was a research subject, my family and I fell under DoD Security Police jurisdiction. Then he asked a strange question, You didn’t bite this guy, did you?" I told Josh no, why would I want that filth in my mouth? Then I asked, Why would you ask something like that? Josh just dismissed it as curiosity about instinct or something like that. It still struck me as curious.

I arrived in front of the building that housed Dr. Schrang’s office and lucked out with a parking space right in front of the doors (I wonder if she set that up). I took the steps up to the third floor three at a time (one benefit of a digitigrade stance and gait . . . and the reason my form is taller than a human’s). It’s funny how we only notice things about ourselves when we’re calm and secure. Come to think of it, this was the most comfortable and secure I’d felt in weeks.

As I arrived at Emily’s office door, I heard her inside on the phone. "Why would you ask her something like that, Josh . . . first, that is my job to assess, second think of what she did for a living! She knows all about vectors . . . Yes! And more than that, she has the reflexes and response time of a North American Gray Wolf. I’d be shocked if she hadn’t noticed the question!" I heard the receiver slam down. Then again, nobody seemed to react in the hallway to any of what sounded pretty loud to me.

As I entered the outer office, I saw the inner office door open and heard Emily call out, Is that you, Willa? I said yes, and continued into the inner office. It shocked me to find Emily in her underwear with clothes on the desk. I instinctively turned around and apologized. Emily explained it was her fault and apologized both for getting distracted and for not warning me as I entered. It’s easy to forget that you didn’t grow up as a woman and that this would be uncomfortable for you . . . she said, as an apology. Emily explained she thought my arrival would be a good excuse to change into hiking clothes for comfort and blow off the paperwork while we had our meeting outside. That was always to my liking anyway, but even more so now, in this form.

We left the building and the business-like urban area, and soon found ourselves on trails through wooded forest land (all on lab property, of course). Emily knew I always felt comfortable in surroundings like these. It helped. I related the occurrences that had transpired since my departure from the lab. When I got to the part about that dirtbag, the one who spit on me, Emily stopped me. She explained they had already found him and interrogated him (kind of sounded like something I didn’t want the details on, oddly enough). Turns out he had wanted to sneak up on me and spray that red paint on my face, neck, and upper chest so that for at least a week, I would look like I had torn something or someone to shreds. Just another in a lengthy list of imbeciles trying to justify their own intolerance.

So, why did Josh ask me about biting him? I pressed. Emily flashed angrily (just for a moment), saying, "I knew he would have you worried. So . . . color me worried, I thought. Emily explained that the most recent mouth swabs (taken long after my change had finished) had shown an undocumented, never-seen-before microbe. It frightened me. I asked, Is that what caused my change? Emily put her hand on my arm and stopped. She explained they were still researching this discovery. It may be as simple as two bugs, one that infects canids, the other that infects humans, and in your unique biology, they could mix and form something minor that can jump species. Sure, that’s what they said about SARS and swine flu, I croaked. When I asked about the anger I felt, Emily asked how long till my next time of the month. I told her about eight or nine days. Her head tilt and cocked eyebrow said it all. I thought for a moment and realized. Really!? PMS?!" Emily laughed and said it also explains my depression and anxiety over the fear of losing Allie.

Toward the end of our walk, I broached the subject of The Genetic Park and Resort. It surprised Emily I had not heard of it before. She related it did work, very well, it would seem. It turns out, the FDA (among others) was interested in my case to see if they should pull the licensing for breaching the protocols that were set. They were quite relieved to hear my case had nothing to do with the serums used at the Park. It was time for the big question. Em, do you think they could reverse what happened to me? I almost didn’t want to hear the answer. She thought a while and said, "I don’t know, Willa. It is possible, but I don’t know enough about their serums to give you a reliable answer. All their data is proprietary; would you give up that kind of money maker?"

We started walking. I hadn’t noticed, but Emily’s demeanor had become worried. It hit me while I was deep in thought. There was a sense of dread. It just wasn’t my own. I looked over at my friend and to my surprise; I saw the source of the dread. She looked like she was about to cry. She said, "I would never want to stand in the way of a person I consider my best friend, so I could never tell you not to look into what they could do for you. That being said . . . Emily turned and stood in front of me, looking up into my eyes (an almost uncomfortable gaze), she took one of my hands into each of hers, and squeezing tight, said, Willa, don’t take any risks. If they even hint it would be risky, please don’t do it. I couldn’t bear to lose another friend and worse, I would be in no emotional condition to give Allie the support I know you would want for her." She only let go of her right hand. Just so she could turn and stand on my right, facing with me, for the walk back. It was quiet. I cried to myself. Emily valued my friendship so much . . . and I didn’t know it. I wondered if she knew my love for her was second only to my wife.

Time seemed to go too quickly and we found ourselves back at the office building (we had been, in fact, out for about two hours). Emily looked up at me and before she could say goodbye, I grabbed her and hugged her (and in doing so, lifted her off the ground). I gave her a kiss on the cheek and put my cheek to hers for one last squeeze. As I put her down, her hand went to my cheek and, brushing it with the back of her hand, she whispered, Your fur is wet. I didn’t mean to make you cry. As I went to the car, I replied, Tears of joy . . . for having found someone who treasures my friendship as much as I treasure hers. As I got in and started my car, I saw her left hand go to her mouth . . . even as she waved goodbye with her right hand. I waved and headed home.

When I got home, Allie was working her favorite jigsaw puzzle app on her phone. I went to the bedroom to my desk and got on the website for the Park, and printed out the brochures. Then I went to the living room, sat next to Allie, and explained my plan to reverse what had happened. Allie looked at the brochures, listening to me chatter, and said if it could get this straightened out, she was all for it. When I said maybe she could try an anthro form, she said she doubted it, but maybe. I made the reservations.

I was so deep in my own mental meanderings that it wasn’t until the third time the steward said, Excuse me, are you the Davis family? and Allie jumped, that I came back to the present. Yes, we said simultaneously. The steward said, "We got you a flight. The Park was very upset with us for the misunderstanding. You’ll be leaving in about twenty minutes. I looked at my watch and realized it’s been three and a half hours since we’d been sitting there. If we get lucky, we should make dinner. They say it’s spectacular . . . " I said to Allie. She just grunted. Still annoyed about the delays, I guess.

As they led us out onto the tarmac, we saw the plane was a small charter jet. When I commented to Allie that it would be expensive if we were the only passengers, the steward commented, "It is expensive, and you are the only passengers. The Genetic Park and Resort is pretty much our biggest customer. If they get angry at a contractor, the contractor goes out of business. Allie looked at me with a questioning stare. I took it to mean, Did the Park require this charter to force the small air carrier to make up for our discomfort?" I just shrugged.

As we boarded the plane, the steward asked us where our baggage was, as the team couldn’t find it. I assured him we only had the one carry-on. I explained that the resort provided everything except a couple of small personal effects. As we moved into the plane, we realized it must be an executive transport, since the interior was leather and wood with a couch, swivel chairs, table with surrounding swivel chairs, and (from the sounds past the curtain) a single crewmember other than the pilot and co-pilot at the front.

It was a fast trip. The flight attendant only made one appearance (she had no time for more than that) and we landed at what seemed to be a large single runway private airport. In front of the sole building, there was a white passenger van with the driver outside waving to us. We boarded the van, and the driver welcomed us after a bewildered stare at me.

So, you two work for the Park? the driver asked in a conversational tone. Since Allie seemed indifferent, I answered. No, actually. We’re guests that missed the connecting flight to the Park. The driver looked somewhat stunned at my statement. He continued, "Wow! I’ve never seen an anthro guest outside the Park proper. In fact, I thought it was against the rules altogether. I’m sure he was right, just based on what Emily had told me yesterday about the FDA wanting to pull the Park’s license. It was a quiet trip, and when the driver spoke again, he said, If you don’t mind, I’m going to take you right to the manager’s office at the ‘pre-entrance’ pavilion. He needs to help you once we’re there. As the driver said that, we pulled into the driveway of the pavilion. The building looked more like a hotel. It was big, with a glassed-in lobby. We passed that and stopped in front of a small office that looked like an attached building with a single door. The driver opened the van doors and said, Wait here a moment . . . before running over to the door and knocking. After opening the door, I heard him say, Pat, we have that couple that the airline screwed up with. The voice inside said, Now!? Bring them in quickly!" Allie was staring out the window at the lobby. She looked aggravated.

The driver motioned us to come inside, so we did. Inside was a comfortable office decorated in the same style as the lobby we had passed. The man stood with an outstretched hand. As I took his hand and shook it, he continued, You must be the Davis family. I am so sorry for the screwup at the transfer airport. My name is Pat Reagan, I’m the manager of the Park’s pre-entry pavilion. As you can see, they set it up as a small hotel. This would be for guests who arrive late (like you) or people who have had such a long trip, they would prefer to decompress after their journey. I thought that is a fantastic idea, we should get a room, and go to the Park entrance in the morning. As I was thinking about the room, Pat continued, "Unfortunately, we won’t be able to do that with you. The Park has rules that are put in place for safety, and one is that there are no anthros permitted outside the Park perimeter. The fear is that it will cause the newcomers to panic, as most have experienced nothing like this before."

Pat looked at Allie and said, I’m sorry, Mrs. Davis. Pat must have noticed her mood. I know I was feeling it like a radiant heat from a heater. He turned toward me. "We didn’t know about your situation until you landed at the airline hub. That’s what caused the horrible screwup that left you two there for so long. When we reviewed the reservations and the photo id in the package, we had to improvise quickly. I stared at Pat, not knowing what was going to happen next. He must have sensed my uncertainty, because he added, We’re going to get you to the entry point right now. There’s only one more monorail train to the entrance point, and it is empty since it’s rather late. Bobby will drive you over to the station in the van and make sure you don’t miss the train. Again, we are sorry for the trouble you’ve endured, and they have assured me management will make it up to you." Pat again shook our hands and bid us good evening.

Bobby opened the door for us, checking as if to make sure that no one was looking. We got in the van and were off to the train. On the way, Bobby explained to us that new guests could not see an anthro until they were at the entry point, since it could shock them to the point of panic. He supposed that was because most people must picture the anthros as people in furry costumes or something. They were not emotionally prepared to see a real live anthro. The one thing I know, the staff at the entry points get training in psychology and are required to maintain that training for as long as they’re qualified to work entry. The only non-anthro at the entry points is the supervisor, and he or she is only there for the most severe cases of panic. I don’t think a supervisor has ever had to intervene. Our staff is the best. Before I could even question what he had said, we were at the station, and the train was waiting to leave.

Once on the train, things seemed calmer. I asked the motorman why I didn’t hear any wheel or motor noises. He explained the trains were maglev and totally silent. Trams and even some trains operated inside the Park, and the noise of the train wheels and tracks would be incredibly annoying to most species, especially canids, felines, and chiropterans. Wow! I said, thinking that this place thought of everything.

In less than five minutes, we were disembarking at the entry point. The building appeared as ‘half a building’ protruding from a wall. The perimeter of the Park, no doubt. As we entered, we glimpsed an older bald-headed man hurrying into a door behind a counter. A moment later, we heard what I presumed was the bald-headed man’s voice over the speaker system. Let’s go kids, we have guests! With that, a large male anthro whitetail deer entered the room, turning his head slightly to make room for his antlers in the doorway. Welcome to The Genetic Park and Resort! We were afraid you wouldn’t make it tonight, he said with the biggest grin his small muzzle could achieve. The tram operator opened the door and said, Hey Tim, I’m going to hang at this station for about fifteen more minutes, just in case, okay? The big stag replied, Thanks, Rob, that’d be great. He looked at us and continued, Obviously, I don’t have to explain what anthros are to you two, so if you’ll follow me to the next room, I’ll get you started on your check in to the Park.

We entered a well-lit room. To my nose it smelled recently remodeled. There were several rows of chairs and a screen in front of them. To one side (opposite the end of the room from where we entered), a lean, well-muscled female golden retriever anthro came in through a door carrying two boxes and some clothes. Tim introduced his partner as Sophie and she greeted us. And before Tim could continue with his presentation, Sophie said, Oh my God! I know you! looking right at me. I felt a little cornered. She continued, Tim, don’t you recognize her from the cable news? Tim seemed confused as he shook his head (and antlers) with a shrug. Sophie continued, I followed your story from the start, even before it became big news. I remember the announcement sending shockwaves through management around here. A lot of investigations followed that, believe me! She started forward to shake my hand, but Tim stopped her and said, "You two can talk later if she wants to." Sophie quickly apologized, and we continued.

Tim ran the presentations on how the Park came to be, what the rules were, how the serums allowed the guests to change into any mammal anthro they wanted, and how the walk-in path was rivaling the train station that started with the Park’s opening as the choice to enter the Park. Then it was Sophie’s turn. She made presentations on the clothing that a guest had to wear in the Park for the walk to the main lodge building hotel. She explained how you could stretch the shirt and pants to insanely large proportions for the larger animals like elephants and bears, or by pulling the strings, you could shrink them to fit much smaller anthros. "They use these garments only during your change, since after completing your change and arriving at the hotel check-in, you can visit the clothing exchange and purchase ‘in-Park clothing,’ custom-designed to fit whatever species you have chosen. You don’t even need cash to buy the clothes, since you have to use Park ‘Gen Credits’ to buy everything in the Park. When you leave, you return your anthro-specific clothing and get a refund. You can also exchange clothing whenever you want, using the same method. Only the gift shop, shopping district stores, and specialty food or drink vendors permanently cost you credits. You can even buy more credits with actual cash at the registration desk anytime.

If you guys don’t have questions, we can take you to the next room and the changing booths where you can change into your Park clothing and choose your anthro species, Tim said, as he headed for the door. I think I surprised both of them when I asked, What about changing to a human male? Tim and Sophie stopped in their tracks and looked at each other. There are no non-anthro (unaltered) humans in the Park. It’s not allowed, Tim said. Sophie asked, "Why would you ask for that? I thought you wanted the species you have. She had a shocked look on her face. I sighed. Maybe fatigue was getting the better of me, but I just wanted the talking to stop for the night. I never asked for this form. I was a normal human male. And nobody can tell me what happened. Over several months, I became . . . this! I sighed, motioning to my body as I stood up from the chair. Maybe standing up was a mistake, but Sophie gasped. What happened to your tail?!" she blurted.

"Sophie, I never had a tail. I’m here with my wife for a vacation. If I can have a serum that will change me to human, I’ll be happy to go back to the pre-entry lodge for the night. Whatever we can do." Tim stepped in and explained to us that whatever was done would have to be cleared through management. He wasn’t even sure that an anthro not created with their serum could enter the Park. Then he explained that the serums all worked together, meaning that once the initial change had set and stabilized, they could administer another serum without harm . . . including the serum to revert to original human form. Since my form wasn’t human, any serum (including an initial choice serum) could have unpredictable and possibly dangerous effects.

Just then, the elder man with the bald head walked in from the door we had come through. He had been on the phone with the management since we had arrived. He introduced himself as Brian and said that the management had told him I could enter the Park. Then he said, What Tim said about not being allowed to take a serum is correct for those reasons. Brian continued, "I think the solution, at least for now, is for Mrs. Davis to choose a species, maybe a wolf, and accompany Mr. or is it Ms. Davis into the Park and get some rest? Maybe even a male wolf for Mrs. Davis, so she doesn’t feel so out of place. There was no response except for Allie, who got up and walked toward the door we had come in through. In between the sobs, we all heard her saying, I can’t take this anymore!" Then the doors closed. They said the maglevs were silent . . . but I heard the magnets spool up in a faint whine as the train left with my wife. In stunned silence, I felt my ears droop.

I sank to my knees. Then I sat and cried. I guess Sophie could hear my quiet sobbing because she kneeled next to me, put her head on my shoulder and her arm around my other shoulder, and sat with me. It didn’t lessen the pain, but it helped. I guess it’s canid instinct.

I don’t know if it was seconds or minutes that passed. My head was spinning. The one thing I was fighting to prevent had happened. The terminal sensation of the moment was crushing. Brian stepped forward, kneeled in front of Sophie and me, and said, I’m not sure what just happened or even why. But you look exhausted, I know that. We’ll call and have one of the Park service tram karts come and pick you up and take you to the lodge building when you’re ready. Then I looked up, meeting Brian’s gaze. I saw a man accustomed to dealing with other people’s emotional traumas. Thank you, Brian. You’re right. I need some rest, but if it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer to walk. I need the time alone. Sophie whispered, Are you sure? Yeah, I’ll be fine, I replied. Let’s get you to a changing room, said Tim. I thought for a moment, standing up, and asked, Do I need to change? After all, I’m not receiving a serum . . . and my clothes already fit my form. I’d like to keep my purse as well. Tim looked at Brian and asked, What about that, boss? Brian said, Just check for contraband, as usual. Otherwise, I don’t see a problem. I didn’t even think to ask what kind of contraband one would smuggle into a resort like this.

Tim handed my purse to Sophie (men don’t enjoy going through a woman’s purse) and handed me a card with a long lanyard loop. He explained it was my resort ID, so I had to keep it with me. It was my source of money, ID, and cafeteria access for the included meals. Tim also handed me a folded map of the huge resort and said the emergency phone numbers for the park are on the last page, just in case. Just then Sophie said, Wow, you have an empty purse! Nothing but three feminine items, and two wallets. Why two? I told her to open the black one with the snap. She did, and her eyes widened just a little. You were a fire lieutenant?! I didn’t know they let you keep your badge and ID when you retire. I explained that if you meet certain requirements, they did and retired your badge number in your honor. You’re a hero! she said. I told her, No, I’m not . . . but I’ve had the honor of working with several. She closed everything up and handed it back to me and said, Thank you for your service. Are you sure you don’t want company on your walk? I thanked her and said no again, not wanting any conversation at this point. At the large door marked EXIT at the farthest wall of the building from where we entered, Tim said, Just insert your card into the slot. The door opened when I did. I thanked the team again. As I left, Tim said, "Thank you, lieutenant, and good luck. I’m praying for you."

By this time, the setting sun I had seen at the Park’s airstrip was gone. I looked at my watch and realized I was in a different time zone. The moon was already high enough to be seen over the trees and was a three-quarter moon. I wondered absently if it was waxing or waning. I never could remember which was which by the side the shadow was on. The trail was clear in the moonlight (especially to canine eyes), being bright yellow sand, like the presentation said.

After a little more than an hour of walking, and after passing several landmarks and a park with benches and tables, I came to a lake. The area was beautiful, I’ve always liked plains and forest lands. I sat for a moment by the pier, my mind being drawn to the cavernous hole I still felt in my chest and the events that had caused it. I sat there lost in thought for a while until a couple wandered by. You lost, Miss? the male anthro asked. He looked like a mountain lion. His girlfriend (who looked like a lynx anthro) whispered to him, "Did you ever stop to think she might want to be alone?! I couldn’t help but smile. I remember Allie getting mad at me the same way. No, I’m fine. Just came into the park by the walk-in path and was admiring the moonlight on the lake. I replied to his question. Oh, cool! Enjoy your stay . . . " the lynx answered. As they wandered off, I heard the girl chastising her boyfriend, saying a girl doesn’t sit alone in a place like that unless she wants to be left alone. I guess she’s right, but it’s not just girls.

A short fifteen minutes later, I was walking through a large lobby at the hotel building. As I approached the desk, I could see an anthro dog girl in a park uniform leaning on the counter, tapping with one finger at the computer. She looked bored to death. As I approached, the girl noticed me and popped upright, ears erect and tail wagging. I caught her scent and could see (and smell) a beautiful husky. Hi, can I help you? I noted her nametag said Terri and as I was about to tell her I needed to check in, she said (under her breath), Wait, I recognize you. You were on the news! Yes Terri, I was on the news, I replied. The phrase Wait, I know you! was becoming really annoying. Then I continued, I just came in on the trek path and I need to check in. Handing her my park ID, Terri apologized for reacting that way, and explained that other than commercials for the resort, there weren’t even images of anthros outside the park. Until me, that is. I told her, "That is for the best. Pray you don’t have to deal with that stupidity in your life. Her ears drooped a little as Terri replied, Tim and Sophie said you had a terrible day. I’m sorry about that. Let me get your room registered and we’ll get you down to the clinic for your exam."

As I was about to complain, I heard some other guests gossiping about me. I turned halfway around to look (and so I could use my enhanced ears to hear what they were saying). It seemed they thought I was the victim of a bad batch of serum because of my lack of a tail. That’s when one girl in the group whispered I was like this all my life, she told the rest she saw me on the news. Between the incorrect story and the recognition, anger couldn’t cover what I was feeling. I heard one guy in the group say, "A girl that hot is just fine without a tail! That made me feel both insulted and flattered at the same time . . . not to mention pleased when the pretty little arctic fox anthro girl he had his arm around gave him a swift punch in the side. As I turned back to Terri, the guy tried to smooth things over with the fox and I noticed Terri was looking at my rear. You don’t like girls, do you? I whispered. Terri smirked and apologized, saying, I was just curious about you not having a tail. Look, I just want to get some sleep; this was the worst day of my life. Maybe I’ll even tell you and Sophie about it over a drink sometime, when you’re both off duty, of course. I said. Then I continued before she could say anything, But for now . . . I just want to go to my room and try to sleep. Tomorrow, I will get my exam and anything else the park requires. Terri looked sympathetic. Here’s your card back. It will act as your room key. Just stick the end of the card with the barcode in the slot next to the door handle, she said. Your room is 505. It has a magnificent view of the lake, with the forest and mountain in the distance a little to the left. Please don’t forget the clinic visit. I was told to send you there as soon as you got in. Terri begged. I promise I won’t," I replied, as I headed for the elevators.

On the fifth floor, I looked at the room number direction signs, followed the arrow to the right, and found my room. The slot next to the door handle accepted the id card, and the door popped open with a soft click. When I walked in, I remembered I had booked a junior suite (thinking at the time the suite was for two). It was luxurious. In front of the door, and extending to the right, was a living room whose far wall was one enormous glass window with a large couch and two large armchairs (no doubt for the larger anthros). Then end tables with lamps on them on each end of the couch. Just past that was a desk with a desk lamp, with a Park stationary set (letterhead, envelopes, and pens) on it, as well as a phone. Past that was a galley style kitchenette with a counter, taking up the transverse wall. Coming back along the inside wall (opposite the window wall) there was a four-seat dining nook, and a few feet further along that wall was an entertainment center with a huge HDTV, and a stereo that would blow anyone’s mind. It would probably hurt my ears.

While looking all this over, I noticed a tiny sticker on each of the electronic devices which read "Specifically for canids and felines only! All other species, please call room service for help. I thought to myself, they think of everything. Past the hallway door, there was a small alcove-type hallway with a bathroom facing the suite, and to the right, a door to the bedroom. In the bedroom was a king-sized bed, a set of armchairs, and a large dresser with six drawers. There were the usual night tables on either side of the bed and along the same wall as the door there was an enormous closet with mirrored floor to ceiling sliding doors. All I could think was, Allie would love this."

With that depressing thought in my head, I went to the hallway door, locked it, and put the safety bar on. Then retreated to the bedroom, closed that door, and put the privacy lock on. I got undressed to go to bed. Sleeping in my underwear had always been my habit, even though Allie tried to get me to use pajamas after the change. Even before the change, they were too hot. Now . . . forget it.

As I pulled back the blankets, I turned around and stared at what was now my image for the past few months. For the first time, I hated what I saw. Not that it was ugly, I didn’t find it ugly at all. It was the pain it had brought me in the last several weeks. Not to mention the loss of my wife and love of my life for the past thirty-two years. I guess solitude and a locked door were the best relief I could hope for at this moment. I climbed into bed, said my prayers, and was asleep so fast I don’t even remember if I finished them.

Chapter Two

A new life

"T erri, have you seen the new arrival that was supposed to come last night? Millie was an imposing doe anthro wearing a nurse’s uniform and carrying a clipboard as if it were a weapon. It intimidated poor Terri more than most. She gave a very canine whine and told Millie that she checked in last night late; sometime around twelve-thirty. I specifically told you to bring her down to the clinic when she got in. Regardless of the time!" Millie snorted. "I know, Millie. I’m sorry, but she was exhausted . She just wanted to get some sleep. Terri whined. She promised to go to the clinic when she got up. Millie looked at her watch and tried to calculate the time difference and transit time, and arrival time. She gasped, Terri, the time difference between here and New York is three hours, right? Terri agreed. Then our girl is awake, or she’s suffering from pronounced clinical depression. Terri, I don’t like early morning calls from Dr. Malcolm asking for reports that I don’t have. At least call me and let me know in