Molt
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Arcadia # 4824
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| year | 344 CE (2407) |
| posted | October 29 2007 |
| previous | Yeah, I Can Tell |
| next | Bartok - Lion's Den |
[On a ship, somewhere...]
"Zork! ZORRRRRRK–!"
M'Pri's call to his assistant abruptly stopped, descending into a hacking series of coughs and chokes. Damn. Hairballs. Always struck at the most inopportune moments.
Zork came rushing in.
"C'mere." M'Pri motioned him over. "I need to scratch."
Zork sighed, but otherwise didn't seem to mind. He was Beryllian. Tough, thick hides. You could hit 'em with a bazooka and it might only tickle. The big alien turned his back and waited as the Caitian, M'Pri, stretched then sank his claws into the Beryllian's outer skin, preening and flexing.
"Aaah, much better, Zork. Thank you." M'Pri turned and went back to what he was doing.
"What yer doin' boss, can I ask, huh, huh?" Zork eyed the experiment, with wide eyes, avid interest, but little insight. Little intelligence either for that matter. (He was just an assistant.)
"Why, most certainly you can, Zork," M'Pri said, squinting into the isomagnemetronomiconoscope.
Several moments passed.
"Uhhh," Zork said, trying to decide if he had actually gotten an answer to his question. When Doctor M'Pri said nothing, Zork repeated, "What yer doin', boss?"
"Working. Now please, Zork, you're distracting me."
"Oh. Right; uh, sorry, boss." Zork went to leave.
"Zork," M'Pri called again. "Actually there is something useful you can do for me, while I have you here. Here, hold this." The Caitian shoved a PADD into his hand. "And this." He placed a complicated looking instrument, shaped like an elaborate toothbrush, into the other hand.
"What's this for, boss?"
"Consider it part of the experiment." M'Pri peered into his scope, made some adjustments on the dial. "Almost... there. Now hold still." He reached into a pocket of his lab coat, took out a much tinier instrument, held it between one furry finger and thumb, and gave it a squeeze.
Zork jumped, dropping the equipment. "Ouch! What was that for?" He rubbed his hand where the complicated toothbrush had been.
"Zork! You weren't supposed to drop it! Now pick it up and let's try it again."
"Uh, I don't know, boss..." Zork eyed the instruments on the floor, worried.
"Nonsense. You'll be fine. It's just a little discharge. Pick it up." M'Pri cocked his feline head, waiting.
Reluctantly, Zork obeyed. M'Pri adjusted the scope again, pushed the button... and Zork jumped, dropping the equipment again.
"Zork!"
"I'm sorry, boss, I can't help it! That's... a little..." Zork's normally wide eyes (Beryllians had big eyes) went even wider. He teetered on his feet, then fell flat onto his back with a thump, rattling tables in the lab.
M'Pri leaned forward slightly, looking him over, smiling, showing the pointed ends of sharp teeth beneath his whiskers. "It works! Now to report my results to the captain." He picked up the PADD Zork had dropped, replaced the toothbrush in its tray, secured the lab and left.
A few seconds later, Zork's skin began to molt. It peeled at first, flaked, coming off in tiny little bits, then slid completely off of the flesh beneath. Next, his muscles degraded, crumbling like ashes. Finally his bones. In minutes there was only an empty uniform, laying on the floor of the lab.
TBC? (shrug) – One of those "something that came over me" posts
