*****
Slowly, Az came to. It took her a few minutes before she finally
regained control of her limbs. She tried to roll over, but straps on her
limbs prevented it.
Again, the heart pounding fear returned. She was completely immobilized,
strapped to something, flat on her back. What did they want with her?
Two men were talking, but Az didn’t fully understand their language. She
could catch a few words here and there and knew they were speaking
English, the language of her dolphinback friend Coba. Coba had taught
her a few words, but not enough to carry on a full conversation.
One of the men came over to her and started poking and prodding her
chest, as if looking for something.
Az struggled, trying to bite him, but even her head was restrained. She
was helpless to do anything but watch.
The man was very pale, as if he didn’t see much daylight. He was thin
and his eyes held a hungry look, a search for answers that would never
end. His dark hair was neatly combed and his suit was spotless. He wore
a white coat over his other cloths and in the pocket were several white
stick with caps on them.
Nodding to himself, the man took one of the sticks and began writing
something on Az’s chest.
Whatever it was, it felt wet against her skin and Az didn’t like it.
Then, the realization came; he was marking her for something. She wanted
him to stop!
Again, Az started trying to struggle and growled at the man. He paid no
attention and continued marking her.
“No,” Az said. It was one of the few English words she could clearly say
and knew the meaning of. “No,” she repeated.
The man frowned and stopped what he was doing. “No?” he questioned. “Do
you understand me?”
“Smart,” Az replied. “No. Happy.” Her words were garbled, her raptorian
accent making the S’s sound more like a hiss and the R’s a growl. Still,
it was clear she had said words.
Again, the man frowned. “Sir, I think it’s trying to say something.”
“Nonsense. It can merely repeat words, like a parrot. It’s not
intelligent. Continue marking the incision lines, then prep it for
surgery,” came the harsh reply, delivered by a cold, hard voice. Az
could not see this man, hidden as he was in shadows and barely at the
edge of her vision.
The dark haired man she could see nodded again and resumed his marking.
Az closed her eyes in misery. They would not accept her intelligence and
were determined to do whatever it was they planned.
In a few minutes, he had finished with his marking and left the room.
This time, when he returned, the man had a black case with him. He
opened it and pulled out some sort of mask, which he held up to her head
to measure. He seemed pleased with how it would fit and began hooking
other things to it. He then pulled out three bottles of something and
three different syringes. The first bottle contained something vividly
blue and the second something bright red while the third was filled with
a clear liquid. And impossibly large syringe was filled with the blue
stuff and the man walked over to Az. He tied something rubbery around
her upper arm and slapped her bicep a few times. Then, he inserted the
blue filled needle and Az’s senses were overwhelmed by the burning pain
of the injection. She cried out her anguish, but the man still ignored
her wailing. Finally, after an eternity, he finished with that injection
and picked up the red filled syringe. Again, he slapped her arm a couple
times before jabbing the dye filled needle into her vein.
“That should do it,” he said, and got up and left.
Az whimpered for a long time after he left. Her arm felt like it was on
fire and the fire seemed to be spreading with each beating of her heart.
She didn’t know what it was he had injected her with, but it hurt!
Time had no meaning. Her body was burning up, she was trapped, and there
was no escape in sight. Az slipped into something of a trance, trying to
think of her family, her friends, her clan.
Inevitably, the thin man returned. He was accompanied by three other
humans, two men and a woman, pushing some sort of equipment. The thin
man checked Az and smiled; her veins and arteries were showing up nicely
with the dye he had used. He then picked up the third bottle and filled
a syringe from it. Giving her this shot in the leg, he turned and began
helping set up all the equipment.
Az felt cold. She was scared of what was happening, but still helpless
to do anything. If the first two shots had been fire, this one was ice.
Slowly, she began loosing any feeling in her leg and tail, then the
other leg, and the numbness worked its way up.
Again, Az drifted. The muzzle was removed and replaced with the mask the
man had used earlier. It fit snugly over her nose and up to the base of
her snout. Az knew her head was free, but couldn’t move. A very sweet
scent filled her nostrils and Az drifted into the soundest sleep of her
life.
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