P Is for Prisoner

Chapter 3
Three

Chapter Three

Leo grinned wide as he looked over at the current driver of his sixty-nine mustang. Nineteen and damn fine, the blonde was wearing a red low-cut tank top today, bra-less, and those sexy black jeans with leather crosses inlaid upon naughty parts. She had more piercings then any chick he had ever been with, but they didn’t get in the way. Much. It wasn’t like he was going to kiss her face or anything. She was the perfect eye candy, the sweet cherry atop the sundae he was about to make.

Jennifer Dancette smiled inwardly as she watched Leo from the corner of her eye. She had deliberately chosen the red top because she knew the sight of her large, perky breasts could dull even the sharpest idiot into mush. Just a quick run to the store, then a quick fix back at his place... So close...after putting up with his shit for so long...so close...

The last thing she expected was the gun. Of course, the gun itself didn’t frighten her. She slept with two under her pillow at night. What scared her was the simple unpredictability of his actions. Waving it around, cocking the hammer in broad daylight...what the fuck? Did he want the police to shoot them off the road?

She yelled at him to put the gun away, but he just grinned a terrible, vacant smile, and rolled down the window. Pure kane running through his veins, he was in another world. He laughed as he leaned into her, causing the car to swerve violently. Turning his face upward, he gave her a neck a rough, painful kiss, then raised his arm.

The gun sounded off twice. The two shots echoed like thunder in a bottle within the small car, and Jennifer screamed. Or at least she began to. She wouldn’t find out until who he had shot at, for at that very moment...

“Ahh!” Jennifer cried out, jolted awake by the nightmare. She shook her head, trying to clear it, the echoes of the gunshots still ringing in her ears. Bleariness coated her vision as she glanced affrightedly around, trying to figure out where she was. A quick look affirmed that she was in the back seat of a vehicle, lying supine.

“Easy, child, easy. It was not anything but a bad dream,” A soft, gentle voice called from the driver’s seat. Instinctually, her eyes leapt to the speaker. Dirty blond hair sat between the woman’s...no! The Thera’s black ears, and a silver headband held a longer strip of it back.

A panicked glance downward brought the events from before spiraling back in one nauseous flash. Though no longer naked, she was still trapped in the body of a baby thera, a black and white skunk-girl. A simple red dress hung limply on her small frame, and a white undershirt covered her arms and ended at her wrists with cute little ruffles.

Out of reflex, Jennifer tried to bolt from the seat she was laying on, but to her surprise and dismay, she found herself anchored upon it. A cloth restraint laid across her chest, drawing between her legs and secured itself in the chair there. It was a car seat, a baby’s car seat.

A hard jostle swung her head back towards the window next to her, and as she watched, beautiful trees, tall and strong flashed by setting a forest scene that would have been better appreciated had she not of been so scared. Being in the car made those echoes, the gunshot’s echoes resound once more in her head, and in a frenzy, she pulled and tugged at the lap belt, nearly screaming in frustration. Her loud cries did not go unnoticed by the driver, who slowed the vehicle and pulled off to the side of the road.

“Easy, easy, Jennifer. Nothing’s going to hurt you. Just relax, we’re almost to Tiera Raev.”

“I...I...have a thing...with cars,” the child sputtered out, still vainly trying to free herself. Tears had once again began to fall from her loose eyes. “Please...let me go! I want to go home!”

Theresa twisted around to regard the skunk with her beautiful green eyes. There was a peaceful quality to them that Jen found somewhat reassuring. “I am sorry, but I cannot do that. Thera is your home now, little one. There could be worse places to be.”

At that, something inside Jennifer broke. Three years in a maximum security woman’s prison, and not once did she cry, nor feel sorry for herself. She had no friends or family on the outside to long for, no boyfriend to miss during the long hours alone. However, right at that moment, to be denied even the thought of returning to Earth, to her true, human body, well, screwing up her face, Jennifer threw her head back and wailed like the child she appeared to be. She felt a tickling numbness between her legs, but that would go unheeded at the moment.

“Easy, girl, easy,” Theresa tried to soothe, reaching for the child’s forehead to brush away the longer head-fur out of her eyes. Recalling Jennifer’s previous actions in regards to such things, though, she let her hand drop.

“Why? W-w-why me? There were hundreds on the Row. Why me?”

“We chose you because we believe you have good soul, despite the life you chose to live for yourself. Here, you will be free of the guilt and pain that life caused you, free to truly live again.”

Jennifer said nothing, squeezing her eyes shut. She tried to stop crying, but she found that she couldn’t. Every breath was a shuddering sob, and every thought blurred away by tears.

“I know it seems horrible...but there is a reason behind our actions. May I tell you a story?”

Jennifer nodded slowly. If the vixen was talking, she wasn’t driving. She tugged at the car seat again, eyes carefully combing over the device, looking for an exit trigger. The design was complex, almost futuristic (it had to be, to accommodate her huge tail), and as far as she could see, there was no way for her chubby paws to disengage the restraint. “Will it e-explain why you think you have the r-right to do this to me? Why you people think you are God, deciding how I live or die?”

Theresa sighed. Not long ago, she had quit the Project. She found she had serious issues with how Dr. Cade was running the vast experiement, his seeming lack of compassion and ethics troubling her more with every subject that came through her Slider Station. However watching her world, and it’s spiraling decay, she thought of her son, and reluctantly returned to assist the Project in anyway she could, if only to provide him a better life then the one she had had. She drew in a deep breath and lowered her voice, to what the thera called their ?story-tone’.

“Long, long ago, we were not as you see us. We did not have flying cars, nor Slider stations, no. We were a primitive race, ruled by our instincts, held together by loosely connected prides. Despite our simplicity, we were a happy people. Wars occurred, conflicts arose to be sure, but they were nothing horrible or long lasting, until the Devra came to our planet.”

“They came in huge, alien space craft, their ships darkening our skies and sending our ancestors into panic and hysteria. They had come from a dead planet, a world that they had killed themselves. They were a technologically advanced race, even moreso then we are now, but their machines did not appreciate nature. It was their machines that destroyed their world, and it was with these machines that they attacked our people.”

Surprisingly held by Theresa’s story, Jennifer had no idea that what she was hearing was virtually unknown to the human race. The story of the Devra, and of the resulting war was Thera’s most closely guarded secret, for reasons that may soon become apparent. She had never cared much for Thera, believing the strange ?furry’ world a pathetic waste of the media’s time. Grounded in the horrors of the immediate world around her, she had little time to dream and wonder about it, a place were supposedly crime did not exist. She knew better. Secretly, however, she, (like many young people her age) had longed to at least see it once, to experience a new thing, but she never imagined anything like this. She squirmed, trying to get comfortable in the small chair, but it was hard to with the restraint in place, and the tickling, numb sensation between her legs provided a constant distraction. She did her best to ignore it, however, and sat forward to draw in Theresa’s soft voice.

“The Devra easily subjugated my ancestors, forcing them to work as slaves. Though similar in appearance to humans, they could exist in our atmosphere without consequences. They used us to build their cities, dark monstrosities that rose like scabs from the earth. Through it all, we were viewed as backwards, primitive animals, worked until death then replaced as convenient. Our women served in their homes, our men used as cheap labor. Our children...our children were given as toys and pets to their infants. The transformation of our world took only a decade, and the Thera that arose was completely different from it’s previous incarnation.

If you can, think of your largest, most crime-riddled city. Now imagine that all of Earth was that way. That was our reality. Our people were dying, our way of life as we had known it for centuries shattered. Was it any surprise that we’d try to fight back?

Despite what the Devra thought, we were not primitive animals. Though we lacked their technology, their numbers, and their weaponry, the sharp, technical minds of our people rivaled each and everyone of their so-called ?geniuses’. For years, we studied them, sneaking manuals and schematics guides away to puzzle over and figure out. Once learned, the knowledge spread like wildfire, and soon enough, a rebellion had begun. Ten years it took for them to take over, the resulting conflict lasted fifty.

We won the war, Jennifer. It is a dark spot on my people’s history, but we slaughtered the Devra to a man. We couldn’t leave any alive, and the hatred we felt for them aided us in that endeavor. When they were all gone, we were left trying to repair our world.

It was decided on by our elders that we would retain the use of the Devra’s technology. It’s the truth of the matter that once exposed to it, we found ourselves addicted to it. However, we retooled it, removing the things that caused their former planet to die, and adapted it to work in harmony with nature. This tradition carries on to this day. However...though the war united us as a people, a planet, the Devra’s legacy yet remained, though it would be some time before it was realized.

To this day, we still do not know whether the illness we now know as Devra was naturally brought over by the invaders, or if it was some sort of chemical weapon engineered to have the final say on our destinies. A debilitating, horrible disease, Devra targeted those most precious to us; our children. When we began noticing signs, it was too late. Delirium, fever, small, tempered bouts of insanity, the illness may have killed us all. None of our technology could find a cure.

Until we looked within the DNA of the Devra themselves.

From their genome, we were able to find in that basic coding for what we took for a cure. Unfortunately, it was not complete. It staved off the worst of the symptoms, but we were still in dire need of help.”

“What happened next?” Jennifer asked in a small voice. Never much for history, she wasn’t ignorant, and she knew that this story was important to hear. It might save her.

Theresa glanced at the time piece mounted on the Hover-go’s dashboard. She had time, but she needed to get going. It was not in the child’s interests to be late, especially when it was Dr. Cade who would be waiting. And there was Addison to think of...

“Well, after many, many years of debate, it was decided that the complete cure did not exist upon Thera, that it would have to come from elsewhere. Much as the Devra did, but less intrusively, we began to search the universe with our technology, and then, following the discovery of alternate dimensions, we found Earth.

I said it before. The appearance of the Devra nearly mirrored that of Humans exactly. It was reasonably assumed that within the human, just maybe, the cure for the disease would be found. We opened the portals, reached out to your people. Discreetly, we tested this new race, and within them, we thought we found what we were looking for. A cure.

It still occurs, Devra, but not at all how it once did. Those that we lose to it are mourned, but it’s frequency of occurance mirrors the human cancer. It is prevaliant, but not as terrible as it once was. We celebrated the discovery quietly, hidden. If we have a fault as a race, it is our pride. ?Nature only helps those that help themselves.’ Our great mission was a success, but some...some had other missions to carry out.

When the transformative aspect of Sliding was invented, a new discovery was made as we began to work with the Human Genome. When your people come through and assume our forms, their bodies are completely free of the genetic precursor that leads to Devra. That means, despite their forms, they could never, ever contract the disease. The forerunners of the Project took note of this, and thought that within that knowledge, our salvation might lay.”

Jen looked down at herself again, at her black-furred, stubby fingers and shivered. “And this is the way...?”

Theresa shook her head, glancing up at the mirror. “No, not originally. We had hoped that immigration would help our people grow and thrive once more, but after a while, we realized that would be a bad idea. Your people are a hard race, and most do not value the lives they are given, only press on to accumulate the most wealth or prestige they can garner. They squander the resources granted to them, and heedlessly pollute that which brings them life. It was hypothesized that had we not come, within a century, your planet would have died, just as your Devran counterpart’s did. Following the disaster with the Devra, these were not the people our leaders wanted to accept into our society, and so the initiative was largely deemed a failure. Strict anti-immigration laws were passed, and now, only the best and brightest amongst the humans gain permanent access.

“We did not stop looking, though.”

Theresa bit her lip. This was her darkest sin, the black mark on her soul. She had long tried to give up any guilt associated with it, but she found that she could not.

“It was I,” she said, no trace of pride hinting in her voice, “who discovered that during Transmission...that is, when a human comes to Thera, if certain parts of alternate DNA are exposed to the subject, they will take on that form over the one residing within their genomic code.

This process, this project, frees the subject of the worries and cares of their formerly human life. You start anew, basically, but your soul, the inner you, remains intact. Please, do not call it murder. Your body is not free of the toxins you corrupted it with over the years, free of the wounds of the flesh, and soon, free of the wounds of the mind.”

Jennifer didn’t reply to that feeling cold inside. “So you’re going to try and turn all the humans into baby furries? That is your big plan?” She tried to sound tough, but there was something else that creeped into her voice, and it did not go unnoticed. “Th-that’s h-h-horrible...” she said, but quietly, her eyes downward. Now that it had been explained to her, it was hard to deny it, hard to fight it. Her stomach rolled again, and she winced.

Though Jennifer’s tears had dried, Theresa could see a new set was on the way as the kit began to sniffle and wipe at her eyes. Heartened that her story had touched the young convict, she gently placed a paw on Jennifer’s exposed knee. She jerked away, out of reflex, but looked at her with a sad, pleading expression. Slowly, but deliberately, Jennifer raised her arms to the vixen, in the universal gesture babies have for when they want to be held.

Theresa was powerless against it. The thera have very strong maternal instincts grafted deep within their behaviors, and the child’s supplication could not go unheeded. Stepping from the Hover-go, she opened up the back seat. Jennifer’s expression never changed.

Thumbing the release button behind the top of the car seat, she waited a moment until she heard the click that meant the lock was disengaged. Reaching around the child, she pulled Jennifer from the car seat, and held the sobbing, shuddering body close, whispering condolences. The slight squish from the child’s backside signaled the need for a clean diaper, but that could be handled properly at the Academy.

“W-w-why can’t you just send me back?” The kit cried softly into Theresa’s neck, burrowing her nose there. “I w-w-won’t t-tell anyone, promise.”

“Oh Jenny, little Jenny...if we sent you back to Earth, you’d be executed, sent to death for a crime you did not commit.” Jennifer’s ears perked up at that...how could they...? But she said nothing, fighting back a wracking sob. “Just look forward to the gift that has been given to you. A life anew, free of the horrors of your past. Embrace it, don’t fight it. You’ll even be able to attend the Academy someday with my son, Addison. You could be anything your heart desires.” She rocked the child, and the sobs began to quiet. “Is there anything you’d like to be, when you grow up again?”

Jennifer said nothing, feeling that sick, queasy feeling churning her insides yet again. Finally, after about ten minutes, her crying ceased, and Theresa gently eased her back into the car seat. There was some bumbling around as Jen got her little arms caught in strap, but a moment’s disentanglement, and the restraint was once more locked in place.

Had Theresa been listening for the click of the mechanism, she would not have heard it.

The vixen climbed back into the drivers seat and started the engine up. Magically, the Hover-Go lifted off the ground, bobbed gently, then slide forward, giving the passengers the feeling of sailing on the wind.

“We are almost there, Jenny. Keep your eyes on the horizon...you won’t want to miss Tiera Raev. It is quite a sight to behold. I guarantee, you’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Can’t wait,” Jennifer whispered to herself, feeling the cold, heavy remote-like device fill her small hand. Glancing at the rear-view mirror, she tucked it out of sight, behind her.