Fauve
2042: Paul Owens Home:
"You wanted to see me?", Fauve said as she entered the living room.
"Yes, hop up", he said as he patted the cushion next to him. She did so, curling up.
Fauve was a gray cat the size of a lynx, with bright, yellow eyes. She began to wonder, sensing something wasn't right.
"Paul?".
"Yeah, something happened today... At the Institute... they're beginning to catch on. I don't know how much longer... I explained how you came into being?"
"I remember: they were working on genetically engineered designer pets, and you said I was yours".
"I'm afraid I wasn't 100% honest with you..."
"How do you mean?! About what?!"
She stood up.
"Sometimes, we discovered that the development didn't go correctly. Sometimes, neurons began multiplying at an accelerated rate, almost like a cancer. Or so we thought. These embryos were destroyed. However, I kept yours a secret, and let you develop to term. You looked like what we designed, you were physically healthy. It was months later when I discovered that what happened was we created a sapient animal. You have all the intelligence of any human..."
"I'm not seeing a problem here?"
"If they found out about you, they would want to experiment... They would dissect your brain... In the name of science, of course"
"WHAT?!"
"You wouldn't be allowed to live..."
"They can't do that!"
"I'm afraid they can. You aren't human, and you are a GMO, and therefore property of the Institute".
"Why?", she cried out in horror and desperation.
"Maybe I made a mistake -- lots of them -- I wasn't totally honest, and I tried sheltering you from some ugly realities. One of those realities is that humans are a very egotistic species, and we see ourselves as being so far above the rest of the beings we share this planet with that we can use, abuse, and discard them as we see fit. You know your Old Testament?"
"I know: God created man in his image"... "Have dominion over the beasts of the field, the birds of the air, and the fishes of the sea. Into your hands are they delivered".
"This Bronze Age ignorance is still with us today, and as virulent as ever. If my years with the Institute taught me anything, it's that, in reality, humans aren't so special, or different".
"Then... what? What the fuck do I do?", Fauve sighed almost to herself.
"I have a plan. It won't be easy, but you go on living by going to the wilderness where you can hide among the wild cats".
"I don't know..."
"I know someone: he's a professional wild life rehabilitator. You can trust him, and he will keep our secret. He's rehabilitated lots of cats and other animals, some even having been domesticated, for release in the wild. We're talking animals who don't have your special advantage".
Fauve's eyes wandered over the room.
"I know it will work a hardship, no more soft cushions, no more meals awaiting every day, no more video games and web surfing..."
"Maybe I should just turn myself in, get it over with..."
"Don't say that! Don't even think it. You will live, you'll give up the modern conveniences, that's a given..."
"I'll be alone"
"No you won't. You know enough astronomy to calculate dates and times. We can always plan meet-ups. There are also other cats. You can start a family, become the mother of a new race. You will live and have a life, and that's the most important thing".
She thought about that for long minutes.
"So who is this friend of yours?"
"His name's Wild Bill Donovan. He's a crusty old cuss, but you'll like him. He's one of those types, he either hates your guts or he's your best friend. He loves his cats. We'll see him next Saturday".
Fauve settled into the soft cushions of her cat bed, knowing that this was the last times she would sleep in such comfort.
II
They pulled into the parking lot at the rehab center. Bill, the director, was waiting.
"Bill", Paul greeted.
"Paul... it's been too long"
"They're keeping us busy. My apologies..."
"No need to apologize. It's the same here. Always more animals to take care of. Road strikes. Trapping accidents. We just took in a fox. Poor thing, he pulled out the stake and ran into the woods. A hiker found him hanging from a tree branch and called it in. He may lose that leg, hoping for the best. The idiot didn't check his traps like he was required to do. He'll lose his license.
"That her?"
He asked as Fauve was looking out the window.
"Yes: Fauve".
"Bring her and follow me".
Paul carried the cat, and followed around the facility, to a back door. Bill took his place at a beat up old desk as he settled into a well worn, creaky chair.
"Not much in the budget for amenities. Set her down".
Paul set Fauve on the desk top.
"So I understand you can talk?"
She stood and offered a paw: "Yes, Fauve is my name".
"Not anymore it isn't".
"I... don't understand?"
"Wild cats don't have names..."
"I do!"
"Let me ask you a question: are you serious about this or am I wasting my time?"
"Paul and I discussed it, and it doesn't look like I have a choice here".
"Then you will do what I tell you, no arguments. The first rule is a simple one: around staff, you keep your mouth shut. If you open it, the only things that come out are cat noises. When anyone handles you, you will hiss, scratch, bite..."
"I don't want to hurt anyone..."
Bill rolled up his sleeves to show arms scared with old scratches: "An occupational hazard we all agreed to accept. Wild cats scratch. I don't want anyone suspecting you've been domesticated. Domesticated wild animals are put down, as they are deemed beyond rehabilitation. Am I making myself clear here?"
"Yes, I understand".
"I hope so".
"When can Paul visit?", Fauve asked.
"He won't be seeing you again".
"NO!", Paul called out.
"That's not right!"
"As far as anyone knows, Paul stopped by to drop off a cat in need, and I'd like to keep it that way".
After some back and forth, a compromise was arranged. Paul could come by once a week for a progress report after hours. That was the most Bill would concede.
"See you next week", Paul said as he was taking his leave. "Please behave and pay attention to everything Bill says. He's taking a big chance here".
"I know, and I promise... Goodbye"
"Till next week".
"Steve, Marvin: report to my office and bring a wire noose", Bill said into an intercom.
"Right away Boss", came the reply.
Fauve jumped off the desk, and cringed in a corner.
"New arrival", Bill told them, "just dropped off. Take it to the kennels".
The handlers had a pole with a wire noose that was slipped over the head to keep the animal under control.
"Nice kitty, we're not gonna hurt you", one said.
Fauve hissed, ears back, hackles up. She dodged the noose and ran across the room to cringe in another corner. she hissed, batted at the noose. Ran back across the room. This went on until one tackled her. She bit and scratched...
"DAMMIT!", Marvin called out as her claws drew blood.
Steve got the noose around her neck.
"C'mon", he said as Fauve's claws slid uselessly across the tiled floor. When the door to the kennel opened, a couple dozen eyes on heads that swiveled locked on the newcomer. Noses twitched, cats yowled. Some hissed.
"In you go", as she was lifted to be placed in a cage. As the noose was released, she turned to hiss. The door closed and locked.
Once the two handlers were gone, Fauve took stock of her situation. The cage was small, almost claustrophobic. There was one blanket, clean. A water bowl was filled. She examined her new environment. The cage bottom was mesh with a pull-out tray to collect the shit and piss. The blanket was thin, and she could feel the bars underneath. It was going to be a long night...
Even though the rest of the cats didn't have her intelligence, they were smart enough to know when it was feeding time. All snapped to attention when they heard the first signs of activity beyond the entrance. Another handler, a young girl, entered pushing a trolley. She was distributing bowls of food; she checked the water dishes. When she got to Fauve, she slid out a tray, placed a bowl on it and slid it back. Cat food. It was OK, but just OK.
The first thing the next morning was a trip to the vet's. she was felt up, prodded, had a thermometer stuck up her ass, and finally an injection of rabies vaccine.
"I'll handle this one personally", Bill said, he had that pole with the wire noose.
Once out of sight, he slipped it off as he led her to a fenced in area.
"I don't know how soft a life you had, so let's find out: take a lap around the track".
Fauve ran around the perimeter of the enclosure. It wasn't easy, and before she got half way around, every muscle felt as though on fire. She finished, panting heavily. Bill made a note.
"That is unacceptable, you should have finished faster, and shouldn't be so winded. We're gonna have to work on that".
Next, he showed her a documentary about wild cats and how they lived: "Pay close attention, your life depends on it", he said.
Next, jumping and leaping exercises.
She was thoroughly worn out at the end of the day, and even the uncomfortable cage couldn't hold sleep at bay.
III
Paul arrived after hours on Saturday, as promised. Bill led the way to the kennels to let Fauve out. She cuddled in his arms as he followed Bill to the office.
"So how was your week?", Paul asked.
"It was not as easy as I expected".
"You behave yourself?"
"She complains about the food and her cage".
"That's normal. Back in school we always complained about the food. Why not make that cage more comfortable?"
"The cage is a damned sight more comfortable than the wilderness. It's a lesson she has to learn".
"How about her progress?"
"Improving, that soft life is finally beginning to wear off. I had my doubts, but it looks like she will be ready for release some day... I'll just step out", as he left the office.
"I'm bored; I really wanna come home", she complained.
"You know that's not possible..."
"Doesn't mean I don't want to".
"I suppose you do, but we already discussed this. we all have to do things we'd rather not do".
"Now you're lecturing again: I'm not some kid... Any news from the Institute?"
"So far, no one suspects a thing. As for everything else, it's a mid-term election year, and you know what that means. All politics, all the time. You're better off not having to see the same campaign ads".
"There is that", she agreed.
"Love you", she called out as the reunion was ending.
"Love you too", Paul said.
0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF
"Do I hafta?", Fauve complained. "I've been running this track for all week".
"Yes, you do", Bill explained. "It's all part of rehabilitation".
"It's just so dull".
"Your owner gave you a soft life, filled your head full of useless crap..."
"How is education 'crap'?"
"I'm sure you can work algebra problems. I hated algebra in school; I sucked at it. I'm sure you could explain Relativity, even to a dummy like me. However, none of that is going to enable you to survive, catch food, and avoid predators. You will need strength and stamina as well. Now get going!"
Fauve ran around the track: "That's better", Bill congratulated. "Your time is improving and you don't seem as winded as the first time you ran the track".
"Cool down, and we'll try something else".
He led her to the middle of the enclosed field. The grass was taller than would be that of a lawn, but not totally over grown as would a wild meadow.
"Show me your hunting crouch".
"Huh?"
"As you would while stalking prey".
Fauve dropped to the ground, pressing herself into the grass to minimize visibility. Her legs stuck out behind her body as straight as her joints would allow, the bottoms of her feet pointing almost straight up. Her legs spread wide enough to expose her genital region, stretch her labs. Tail sticking up.
"Is this right?"
She didn't get an answer as Bill was repositioning himself to get a good view of her pussy.
"Did I do it right?"
"You tell me", Bill finally answered. "Pounce on a pretend mouse".
She pounced.
"That was pathetic, and your supper just got away. Resume that position".
Fauve crouched the same way.
"First, tuck your legs under your body", he said as he repositioned her legs. "This will elevate your rump, and that could be a problem, given the limited cover here, but it's a trade-off. Also, get your tail down, not sticking up like a sign post. Prey animals aren't stupid: that's why there are prey animals. Now pounce"
This time, she got off sooner, and went farther.
"Now, prepare your muscles like a coil spring ready to break loose".
She got off even faster, and flew farther.
Bill pulled something from a pocket that was would with a long string he unwound.
"Let's try it with the mouse", he said as he threw the "mouse".
He pulled it through the grass, and Fauve over shot the first time, under shot the second. Missed too late, then too soon. By the sixth try, she got it.
"Don't let it go!", Bill called out. "A real mouse would get away if you did that. Don't let go until it's dead. Let's try again..."
At the end of the day, he led her to an outbuilding: "From now on, this will be your new home".
The accommodations looked better, the blanket softer.
Bill dropped three freshly killed ground squirrels on the floor before her.
"The hell's this?", she asked.
"Dinner".
"That... that's... DISGUSTING!"
"No, that's nature. Where do you think that cat food your owner fed you came from before it got into the can? Better get used to it. You'll have to catch and kill your own".
Fauve sat there as the sun was setting. She finally got up, went over to sniff one of the squirrels. Long forgotten cat instincts were awakening. She flipped the body over and tore into its belly.
0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF
"Can't you give me at least one squirrel?", Fauve begged. "I haven't eaten in days".
"No, Fauve, I won't. In the wild there will be no one to feed you. You have to do this yourself. Don't be giving me any excuses".
He bent down and rapped his knuckles on her head: "Use that superior brain and out smart your prey. Now get to it".
Fauve gave this considerable thought. First, she recognized she wasn't paying enough attention to the wind. There was the problem of getting close enough. Here, she decided to forget about that....
Early the next morning, she sniffed out a cache of nuts, then went down to a creek to gather reeds. She used these to make a blind, rather than rely on the grass to hide her. Then she dug up the dirt over the cache in order to spread the scent of nuts. Then gather fragrant leaves to line the blind to conceal her scent, and make sure to be up wind. Then it was a matter of waiting...
The noon Sun was high overhead, the day warming. After several hours of waiting, a squirrel came sniffing along, and discovered another squirrel's cache. She watched and waited. When the squirrel looked to be preoccupied with its find, she pounced, catching the unfortunate rodent by surprise. A quick bite to the neck and it was all over. First kill. One squirrel wasn't enough to completely satisfy her. She was still hungry, but no longer starving. She wouldn't have to rely on dumpster diving for a meal.
0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF
"Well, Fauve, I taught you everything I can", wild Bill was saying, "the rest is up to you".
Fauve, Wild Bill, and Paul were pulling into a parking lot at a state park.
"I have something for you", Paul told her as he looped a small satchel around her neck. "Keep in touch. I'm gonna... miss you".
"Me too..."
"It doesn't have to be 'goodbye' forever..."
"Do you think that's a good idea?", Wild Bill objected.
"I don't see a problem, it's been anonymized, and she can access my account to keep the service paid".
The pouch contained a cellie and a solar charger.
They headed into the forest, deep into the woods, away from prying eyes.
Some last minute advice: "Never forget that the park is also a public hunting and trapping area, so don't get too complaicent, and watch out for trapping season and fur bearer hunting season otherwise you might wind up as some rich bitch's fashion accessory".
"I have no intention of becoming that", Fauve reassured Wild Bill.
Fauve climbed a steep hill, paused at the top to stand on her hind feet, and waved a paw. She returned to all fours and disappeared over the rise.
0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF
Seven Years Later
"I don't understand it", one official from the Wildlife Department was saying to a colleague. "The reported harvest of cats has been dropping even though we're still issuing as many trapping licenses as always".
"They're getting smarter. Have a look at this".
He showed a photograph of a trap set up. The trapper had set up a barricade of logs.
"Animals always take the path of least resistance, but look here"
In front of the trap there was an 'X' of pebbles and stones at the entrance, and tracks going around the logs.
"Who did that?"
"The more important question is why are those tracks going around? It almost looks like the cats are taking that as a warning and that's why they aren't going in. How can that be possible?"
"I have no idea..."
Next Prompt: Politics