(One week later)
The laboratory was eerily silent. Dr. Thal was in his chair, leaning forward, brooding. The fruit of his labor, an ivory egg, lay on his desk.
The past seven days were a blur. The geneticist had carefully processed the DNA, first from the mother and then from the father. He had studied each individual gene, redistributing each allele individually. Pored over the hidden language of the DNA and RNA, the way a translator reads a text in a foreign language. The process usually took a month, but the scientist was engrossed in this project, even to the point of delaying meals and sleep.
He ran his fingers on the egg's surface. It was soft, yet firm. The shell felt almost leathery. He pressed his ear to it. Nothing. Not even a heartbeat.
"What are you?" Dr. Thal whispered.
It was a total mystery, even after breaking down the genetic material to the basic building blocks. It was unlike anything he'd seen before. The deoxyribonucleic acid contained the familiar four bases -- adenine, guanine, cytosine, and thymine. Yet the order they were arranged in was something else. Where he had expected a sequence of cytosine-thymine-thymine for glutamic acid, there was cytosine-adenine-thymine...the ingredients for valine instead.
All he knew was that it was a creature of higher intelligence than most. Yet, it wasn't human nor even a primate.
And he couldn't shake the feeling he was taking part in something sinister.
Dr. Thal got out of his chair and moved to the window. The sun slunk over the horizon, casting a dark shadow over the land.
"You told me it was done," came the voice from across the room several minutes later.
The scientist jumped. "How'd you get in here?"
"Your door was unlocked," the voice sounded smug.
"You'll be pleased to know the baby's a girl."
"A girl?! I had expected a son. Oh, well. She'll do."
"What do you intend to name her?" asked the doctor.
"If it had been a boy, I'd have called him Perseus. But since it's a girl, I'll name her...Malevola."
There was a crack. Fissures appeared in the egg like spider veins, spreading.
The voice quavered. "She shouldn't hatch yet!"
"Accelerated growth," explained Thal. "Don't worry. It'll slow down in a couple of weeks."
The egg was quivering, then suddenly, seemed to explode. Pieces of broken shell flew every which way.
A tiny gargoyle hatchling was now sitting on the desk. She made a cooing sound. Her eyes darted around wildly, looking for her parents. The skin was a blue-grey shade. Short red hair topped her head.
"She's...beautiful," breathed Dr. Thal. He tried to remember where he had seen such a creature. Was it a newspaper, or some long-forgotten TV show?
It struck him. The hatchling bore a resemblance to illustrations in one of his favorite books, an anthology of early medieval fables. "She's a gargoyle!"
"Don't get out much, do you?" came the voice again. "Never seen a gargoyle before? Typical homo sapien ignorance."
The geneticist turned around. "Where are you?"
The speaker stepped forward.
Dr. Thal gasped. "Great Mendel's ghost!" He staggered backward. Two living, breathing gargoyles in his house! Did that mean unicorns and dragons also existed? Another look at Demona told him that she was definitely Malevola's mother.
Demona scooped Malevola up. "You'll forget you ever saw me, if you know what's good for you!" She shoved Thal into a table. He struck his head on the surface and was knocked unconscious. Test tubes fell to the ground, several shattering. Paper notes fluttered to the ground.
***********************************************************************
(Two weeks later)
"Mother, are you sure this is safe?" A young gargoyle, dressed in a simple black dress, unfolded her wings.
"Malevola, how many times do I have to tell you?" sighed Demona. They were perched at the top of a sycamore tree. "Gliding is essential to a gargoyle's survival."
"Looks essential to a gargoyle's death, too." The young gargoyle had grown dramatically in the two weeks. She still had short red hair, but it was more bouffant. Her skin tone matched Goliath's exactly. Her solid build was also similar to her father's, unlike Angela's lean and delicate frame.
"Whoever heard of a gargoyle afraid of heights?"
Malevola glanced down. She instantly felt sick and dizzy. "This one."
I wonder if Angela had these problems learning, thought Demona. For some reason, the hole she felt a week before had only filled about halfway. But why? Malevola was essentially the same. Not a clone, but they were from the same gene pool. The only thing different was that Angela was the remaining piece of the long-ago romance with Goliath. Indeed, the raven-haired gargoyle maiden was the only tangible piece of her ex-lover that Demona had left. No matter. Demona took Malevola's claw and leaped off the tree limb. "Spread out your wings. Let the air fill them."
"This isn't so bad," Malevola commented. "Just as long as I don't look down." She felt her mother release her. "Mother!" Crash. The redhaired child was now dangling on the branch of a smaller birch. "I suppose you'll cover descending in your next lesson!"
*******************************************
(Three days later)
"Every gargoyle must be self-reliant," lectured Demona. "So here's my challenge. You're going out into the world alone tonight." No answer. "Are you listening?"
"Yes, Mother." Malevola replied, not taking her eyes off an owl perched in a tree. "You want to me to go out alone." She turned around. "Isn't it dangerous?"
"Of course. Make sure you steer clear of any humans. Remember, you are a gargoyle, one of the few left. There are six billion humans. They grow like bacteria. Nothing but a selfish race who want this entire earth for themselves."
But gargoyles build this magnificent city, thought Malevola to herself. Little did she know that her own mother became a human every sunrise. "What will happen at dawn?"
"You're a smart girl. Find yourself a secluded ledge to perch on. Sunset tomorrow, I'll come for you. You've got six hours until the sun comes up."
Malevola nodded. "Then off I go." Talk about leaving the nest early.
Several minutes later, the young gargoyle found herself in Central Park. Perched on an oak tree, she noticed a squirrel perched at the base, eyes closed. She giggled softly and plucked an acorn, then dropped it.
It landed on the rodent's head. The squirrel leaped up, looked around, but saw nothing. Then ran around every which way to avoid a rain of acorns.
"Good day for gravity," the redhead commented. She leaped from the tree limb and landed on the ground. "Why glide when you've got a pair of perfectly good legs?"
The park was almost deserted.
A late-night jogger, known to the park's regulars as Hodgkins, passed by in a sweatsuit. Almost in his fifties, his eyesight had deteriorated to almost legally blind. He stopped, and turned to face the unsuspecting gargoyle, who was studying a clump of mushrooms. He drew his pistol, which he always carried in case someone tried to mug him in the park, and cocked it. "What kind of science lab did this bat escape from?"
Malevola heard the click and turned around. A shiver ran through her spine. "This isn't good."
TBC
The laboratory was eerily silent. Dr. Thal was in his chair, leaning forward, brooding. The fruit of his labor, an ivory egg, lay on his desk.
The past seven days were a blur. The geneticist had carefully processed the DNA, first from the mother and then from the father. He had studied each individual gene, redistributing each allele individually. Pored over the hidden language of the DNA and RNA, the way a translator reads a text in a foreign language. The process usually took a month, but the scientist was engrossed in this project, even to the point of delaying meals and sleep.
He ran his fingers on the egg's surface. It was soft, yet firm. The shell felt almost leathery. He pressed his ear to it. Nothing. Not even a heartbeat.
"What are you?" Dr. Thal whispered.
It was a total mystery, even after breaking down the genetic material to the basic building blocks. It was unlike anything he'd seen before. The deoxyribonucleic acid contained the familiar four bases -- adenine, guanine, cytosine, and thymine. Yet the order they were arranged in was something else. Where he had expected a sequence of cytosine-thymine-thymine for glutamic acid, there was cytosine-adenine-thymine...the ingredients for valine instead.
All he knew was that it was a creature of higher intelligence than most. Yet, it wasn't human nor even a primate.
And he couldn't shake the feeling he was taking part in something sinister.
Dr. Thal got out of his chair and moved to the window. The sun slunk over the horizon, casting a dark shadow over the land.
"You told me it was done," came the voice from across the room several minutes later.
The scientist jumped. "How'd you get in here?"
"Your door was unlocked," the voice sounded smug.
"You'll be pleased to know the baby's a girl."
"A girl?! I had expected a son. Oh, well. She'll do."
"What do you intend to name her?" asked the doctor.
"If it had been a boy, I'd have called him Perseus. But since it's a girl, I'll name her...Malevola."
There was a crack. Fissures appeared in the egg like spider veins, spreading.
The voice quavered. "She shouldn't hatch yet!"
"Accelerated growth," explained Thal. "Don't worry. It'll slow down in a couple of weeks."
The egg was quivering, then suddenly, seemed to explode. Pieces of broken shell flew every which way.
A tiny gargoyle hatchling was now sitting on the desk. She made a cooing sound. Her eyes darted around wildly, looking for her parents. The skin was a blue-grey shade. Short red hair topped her head.
"She's...beautiful," breathed Dr. Thal. He tried to remember where he had seen such a creature. Was it a newspaper, or some long-forgotten TV show?
It struck him. The hatchling bore a resemblance to illustrations in one of his favorite books, an anthology of early medieval fables. "She's a gargoyle!"
"Don't get out much, do you?" came the voice again. "Never seen a gargoyle before? Typical homo sapien ignorance."
The geneticist turned around. "Where are you?"
The speaker stepped forward.
Dr. Thal gasped. "Great Mendel's ghost!" He staggered backward. Two living, breathing gargoyles in his house! Did that mean unicorns and dragons also existed? Another look at Demona told him that she was definitely Malevola's mother.
Demona scooped Malevola up. "You'll forget you ever saw me, if you know what's good for you!" She shoved Thal into a table. He struck his head on the surface and was knocked unconscious. Test tubes fell to the ground, several shattering. Paper notes fluttered to the ground.
***********************************************************************
(Two weeks later)
"Mother, are you sure this is safe?" A young gargoyle, dressed in a simple black dress, unfolded her wings.
"Malevola, how many times do I have to tell you?" sighed Demona. They were perched at the top of a sycamore tree. "Gliding is essential to a gargoyle's survival."
"Looks essential to a gargoyle's death, too." The young gargoyle had grown dramatically in the two weeks. She still had short red hair, but it was more bouffant. Her skin tone matched Goliath's exactly. Her solid build was also similar to her father's, unlike Angela's lean and delicate frame.
"Whoever heard of a gargoyle afraid of heights?"
Malevola glanced down. She instantly felt sick and dizzy. "This one."
I wonder if Angela had these problems learning, thought Demona. For some reason, the hole she felt a week before had only filled about halfway. But why? Malevola was essentially the same. Not a clone, but they were from the same gene pool. The only thing different was that Angela was the remaining piece of the long-ago romance with Goliath. Indeed, the raven-haired gargoyle maiden was the only tangible piece of her ex-lover that Demona had left. No matter. Demona took Malevola's claw and leaped off the tree limb. "Spread out your wings. Let the air fill them."
"This isn't so bad," Malevola commented. "Just as long as I don't look down." She felt her mother release her. "Mother!" Crash. The redhaired child was now dangling on the branch of a smaller birch. "I suppose you'll cover descending in your next lesson!"
*******************************************
(Three days later)
"Every gargoyle must be self-reliant," lectured Demona. "So here's my challenge. You're going out into the world alone tonight." No answer. "Are you listening?"
"Yes, Mother." Malevola replied, not taking her eyes off an owl perched in a tree. "You want to me to go out alone." She turned around. "Isn't it dangerous?"
"Of course. Make sure you steer clear of any humans. Remember, you are a gargoyle, one of the few left. There are six billion humans. They grow like bacteria. Nothing but a selfish race who want this entire earth for themselves."
But gargoyles build this magnificent city, thought Malevola to herself. Little did she know that her own mother became a human every sunrise. "What will happen at dawn?"
"You're a smart girl. Find yourself a secluded ledge to perch on. Sunset tomorrow, I'll come for you. You've got six hours until the sun comes up."
Malevola nodded. "Then off I go." Talk about leaving the nest early.
Several minutes later, the young gargoyle found herself in Central Park. Perched on an oak tree, she noticed a squirrel perched at the base, eyes closed. She giggled softly and plucked an acorn, then dropped it.
It landed on the rodent's head. The squirrel leaped up, looked around, but saw nothing. Then ran around every which way to avoid a rain of acorns.
"Good day for gravity," the redhead commented. She leaped from the tree limb and landed on the ground. "Why glide when you've got a pair of perfectly good legs?"
The park was almost deserted.
A late-night jogger, known to the park's regulars as Hodgkins, passed by in a sweatsuit. Almost in his fifties, his eyesight had deteriorated to almost legally blind. He stopped, and turned to face the unsuspecting gargoyle, who was studying a clump of mushrooms. He drew his pistol, which he always carried in case someone tried to mug him in the park, and cocked it. "What kind of science lab did this bat escape from?"
Malevola heard the click and turned around. A shiver ran through her spine. "This isn't good."
TBC