Disclaimer: I don't own Swat Kats, just my humble originals.
Chapter 2: My Nightmare
A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. Nice to know that this story isn't as dumb as I thought it might be. And I'm sorry that it took me so long to update. I was working on some of my other stories and got caught up in schoolwork at the same time. Believe me, very boring and not helpful to the creative process.
Things eventually settled down after Master left. The remaining scientists, two males and two females, all of varying sizes and fur colors, soon settled back into their own tasks of sorting through data and any anomalies that came with it. Either way, it was something that would take them several hours to complete. So they were going to keep to their jobs in order to get in done so they could get out of here and off to another part of the compound.
While they did those jobs, I spent my own time just watching them work. It was something that I did almost every afternoon once the testing was done. It helped to give me a better idea of just what each kat was like and how they interacted with one another on a personal basis.
It is kind of strange in a way. Since I was the specimen, I was supposed to be the one that everyone observed so they could learn about me. It's not supposed to be the other way around, with me watching the scientists to see what they would do.
Despite any peculiarity that came from this, I still continued my daily observation of the scientists. They of course, were too caught up in their work to even notice me, which suited me just fine. If they didn't have any clue to what I was doing, that meant that I was free to do things in peace.
So I kept my watch up, starting first with the one nearest to me and then allowing my attention to wander from there. Nearest to me turned out to be the pessimist of the group, Dr. Tabitha Cox. As usual, she was muttering about something that had happened during testing. Knowing her, she was probably thinking of what had gone wrong and how it could have been worse.
I wouldn't be surprised if that were the case. For as long as I've known her, the only Cox can think is with sarcasm and that nothing in the world can go right and that everything can go wrong. Why she thinks like that, I have no idea. I just know that it's something that's obviously kept her alive all this time and what makes her one of the more feared members of the scientists.
Which is really quite strange when one considers what a runt Cox is when compared to other kats. Standing at just under five feet in height, Tabitha Cox could easily be considered either harmless or an easy target for larger kats. Her creamy, well-trimmed white fur and deep blue eyes only add to this illusion and has more than once attracted the unwanted attention of the male population.
It isn't until too late that many learn of the deception of those big blue eyes and that short height. They learn that hidden behind all that there is a vicious wildcat who uses her sarcasm and pessimism to cut down anyone who dares to cross her path. More than one of the other scientists or even the other creeplings has come against her and lost before they even knew a battle was being fought.
At the same time though, it was these qualities that helped Cox to do her job with the best of them. She was in charge of forecasting possible problems in testing and finding solutions to the snags before they were even a problem. As of yet, except for when Fishbreath loses his temper or one of the other creeplings decides to make trouble, there has yet to be any serious setbacks in the lab, all thanks to Tabitha Cox.
Though he was nowhere as pessimistic, Dr. Cecil Springfoot also had his uses. Those uses were usually centered in the technical areas, since the only times I really ever saw Springfoot was when he was at a console. Well, I would see the brown tips of his ears from behind the computer screen where he was working.
That suited me well enough. If he was doing his job, then I wouldn't have to put up with the brown furred feline that wore glasses that were thicker than coke bottles. He has absolutely no sense of humor and thinks that everything has to be as neat and orderly as his computers.
The humor around the lab can only fall to one feline. That is Randolph Bristles, a tall kat with beige fur edge in black stripes on his arms, tail and face. His eyes are a dark brown, almost black, that shines with that all too familiar and very welcome humor and understanding.
That sort of thing comes in handy whenever Bristles has to do his job, which is to handle all the medical problems that might arise. When he's taking a blood sample from me or bandaging a wound, he tends to make jokes. The jokes are usually about something that's happened in the lab or just a general subject. But I never find them very funny, since the punch lines make absolutely to me.
The others on the other hand, now they always found Bristles jokes to be hilarious. Even Cox and Springfoot, who seemed to have been born without a funny bone in their bodies liked them. They both claimed that Bristles' jokes helped to make the day pass a little faster. But there was no one who believed such a thing more than Furston, who I think had a liking for the male kat anyhow.
Emily Furston was probably what a male kat would consider very attractive and probably could have gotten Bristles' attention if she had chosen to. Her scarlet fur was luxuriant and shiny to a fault, as was her darker head fur. These were matched off by her deep, emerald green eyes that could almost melt the heart of the male population of the kat species. I know that was certainly how it worked whenever Master's hired ninjas dared to come to the lab and spare her a glance.
Despite her looks, Furston was also a very intelligent she-kat. She had to be, considering the position she held. As Fishbreath's assistant, she had to know how to work with genetic codings, chemical balances, computers, and so on. She kept an on eye on everything, making sure it went smoothly, and still managed to take care of her own work.
Work that basically came and went as the hours dragged on. Eventually, the scientists finished their tasks and logged in the remaining data. Once that was done, there was just one thing left to do before everyone called it a day. And it was the one thing that everyone, myself included, wasn't really looking forward to. It was the one activity that always brought a headache to anyone involved. Mostly because I didn't ever feel like cooperating and would act stubborn for whoever worked with me.
It was really a simple procedure from an outside point of view. I didn't have to be moved from my cage, so there was no reason to worry about making my injuries worse. All someone would have to do would sit in a chair next to my cage and hold up the cards for me to see. I would repeat whatever I saw on the card and then that was it. Too bad that wasn't how things ever went, which was why no one but one kat would ever bother to do it.
"So who wants to take the verbal sessions with #3?" Bristles asked.
The question was really just a formality. Everyone already knew who would take the job. She had done so almost every night ever since these sessions had started and she seemed to be in no mood to stop.
"I'll do it, Randy," Furston volunteered on cue.
Bristles nodded and turned to get ready to leave, with Cox following in suit. They didn't get very far however. There was one little factor that none of them had been counting on. That something was none other than Cecil Springfoot.
During times like this, he was quiet and kept his opinions to himself. So no one really paid him much attention nor did they expect him to say anything. But tonight, for someone reason, he decided to speak up and it caught everyone off guard.
"Why don't I do it this time, Emily?" Springfoot offered," You do the verbal sessions with #3 almost every night. Maybe you should take a break for once."
"It's fine, Brent. I'll take care of it," Furston insisted.
"But Emily," Springfoot started.
"You should probably just let her do it, Brent. You know that she's the only one who can get anything decent out of #3 when it comes to talking," Bristles warned.
"Besides, the last time you tried to get #3 to talk, you nearly got part of your ear sliced off," Cox added.
Springfoot just glared at Cox for that one. He remembered that incident too and didn't like to be reminded of it. I guess one can't blame him for that. No one likes to be reminded of the times when they made complete fools of themselves after being constantly warned by others to be careful.
Of course, I don't like to be reminded of that incident too much myself. It was one of those times when I totally lost control of myself and let my temper get the better of me. For in my anger, I had almost seriously hurt someone. That is not something that I'm proud of.
But at the same time, I think if I had a chance to do everything from that day over, I would do things just the same. Springfoot had earned what pain he did and what might have come. When he had been giving me the lesson, he had been acting as if I were indeed a stupid animal and could not understand what he wanted of me.
I usually tolerated that kind of attitude from Springfoot because I didn't have to deal with him very often. Normally, he was working at a console while someone else was working on a personal basis with me. The times that he did have to work with me, it was usually just to hook me up to something or to return me to my cage.
The one time he tried working with me otherwise, well, things just went badly. In order to get me to do what he wanted, Springfoot tried to bully me. He called me names, shocked me more than once with tags that shouldn't have even been in place, and he even tried to steal my food bowl from me. The first two I could tolerate since they were things that I dealt with on a daily basis. But when he tried to take my food bowl, that was crossing the line.
Though I had more control of myself and didn't make such a big deal about my food, there was an unspoken rule in the lab. Unless I gave my permission, the inside of my cage was off limits. That area was considered my personal space and anything within its confines were to be left alone.
Springfoot had broken that rule when he tried to take my bowl. So I reacted in the only way that seemed fit to me. I had tried clawing at him and had managed to snag the tip of his ear. Immediately, Springfoot dropped my bowl and tried to stop his then bleeding ear.
He was having much luck on his own, since he couldn't see the wound for himself or how bad it was. And there was no one else in the lab to ask since no one ever stuck around once the verbal sessions started. So the only choice left open to Springfoot was to leave the lab and go seek help. Where and when he found it, I really don't know nor do I care. Springfoot had simply gotten what he deserved as far as I was concerned and that was that.
Besides, the injury was not as serious as it could have been. The wound had healed over, leaving only a small scar as evidence to what I had done. Its effects still remained nonetheless. After that day, Springfoot learned a new respect and side of me. He realized that simply because I was a creepling and that I was in a cage, it did not give him the right to bully me.
After that, Springfoot had less to do with me than before. He would keep away from my cage when he passed by, never giving me more than a sidelong glance. I just ended up ignoring him like I had before. That was how things had gone until now, as I watched Springfoot arguing with the others.
I really had no idea why he was being so insistent about giving me my lesson this evening. He certainly wasn't doing it to be nice. That much I could sense from where I was. He might have been doing it to see he could take another crack at me for almost shaving off his ear. I didn't know, but I knew that I didn't want him near me. I had enough of a headache from earlier.
It was the insistence of the others that finally convinced Springfoot to just let Furston handle things as she usually did. He knew that with Bristles and Cox backing her up, he had no chance of convincing the she-kat to do otherwise. She would hold to her decision and leave it at that.
So Springfoot just spared Furston and myself an annoyed glare as he was leaving with Bristles. He was obviously miffed that things had not gone his way, so he would probably drown his frustration in his upcoming meal. He would find that in the mess hall, where I knew that the scientists always went after they left the lab.
"We'll save a plate for you, Emily," Cox promised.
"Thanks Tabitha," Furston replied.
The other she-kat nodded and then followed after the others. Quiet spread over the lab now that they were gone. It was a little strange in its own way, since there were usually so many kats working in the lab during the day. But I was used to it, so I didn't pay it much attention.
Instead, I just watched Furston as she prepared the tape recorder, data forms and lesson cards for the upcoming sessions. She used all of these each time we went into a verbal session. The tape recorder was to document whatever was said between us for future research, while the data forms were to write down Furston's personal opinions on my behavior. And of course, the lesson cards were the latest words and syntaxes that I was supposed to be learning.
Just the thought of such a thing made my stomach ache as Furston finished gathering her things and headed my way. I've always hated the lessons more than anything else when it came to my training. For me, it's a combination of boredom, uselessness, and stupidity all rolled into one.
"So do you want to do this the easy way or the hard way?" Furston asked me as she set her things on a counter near my cage.
I just yawned in answer as I stretched out my wings and settled against a wall. That was an obvious enough answer to Furston. She knew that I was saying: 'Do you even have to ask?' It was something that we went through almost every time this started and a question that I would have thought Furston would know the answer to by now.
"I really wish you wouldn't do this all the time, #3," Furston said, glaring at me in irritation.
I just yawned again. Furston hissed slightly in irritation as she prepared herself for the challenge that she knew was going to come. But for Furston, this was nothing new. She knew that even if I was more cooperative with her than others, it wasn't that easy to get me talk. I'm not one for conversation and prefer to keep my own counsel to that of others. The only times I will talk without goading from others is when I have an observation of my own or Master wants me to say something to him. Other than that, I keep my beak shut.
There's just one little snag with that attitude however. Furston knows me just as well as I know myself. Because of that, she knows how to get me to do what whenever she wants to.
"If you're going to be stubborn, then so will I," Furston said.
That set alarms off in my head instantly. Whenever Furston took that tone, I knew that there was going to be trouble. Not the kind of trouble that came whenever Fishbreath got mad at me. But a kind that usually meant I had to sacrifice some of my already dwindling dignity.
"I hate to pull this on you, but you're not leaving me any choice," Furston replied, her words already confirming what I knew was to come.
I knew what was coming after she said that. She was going to tell me that if I didn't cooperate, then I wasn't going to be fed my evening meal. It was a rule that had first been started just after I came to the lab for testing. The assumption was that since my kind had such a regard for food, that it would be a means to control me.
Maybe if I had been less intelligent, maybe closer to what I had been before all this started, it might have worked better. But once I became smarter, it didn't really work that way. I knew then that I didn't need to eat everyday to survive. I could live for a time without anything to sustain me. If I went too long without food though, I knew that I would eventually weaken and die. Since that was not the future that I wanted, I decided that it was better to do as I was told for the time being. So I cooperated with the scientists and did what they told me.
Sometimes though, like now, I would get into a mood where I didn't want to do anything. That was when Furston would pull the rule out on me again and I would have to do what she told me. It's times like that I almost want to give Furston a piece of my mind about using blackmail, but then, that would be playing right into her paws. So I don't bother with that and instead just follow directions.
"Fine," I sighed," What do you want me to say this time?"
My voice came out as somewhat gravelly and I always assumed that it was harsh on the ears of others. The tones I used were enough so that others could tell that I was female just by hearing me speak. At least that was what I assumed, but I wasn't totally sure.
Furston and the others certainly referred to me as a female. But I think they figured that out from all the blood samples they had taken towards the beginning. So that made it unclear to me if the tones of my voice sounded female to them or if it just sounded neutral.
Whatever I sound like, it has a great effect on how my words come out. Roughly half of them come out sounding like true kat speech. These are the smaller words that don't require a lot of finesse on my part. But the other half is the real problem. Those are words that have more than four syllables and require someone to twist their tongues into all sorts of knots to be able to pronounce anything. When I use those words, my voice either makes them sound too gravelly to be understood or too low pitched to be heard.
This may not sound too bad, since there are kats all over the world that have trouble speaking. But one has to consider that I actually have quite an extensive vocabulary for one who only gained the ability of speech less than three months before. I know how to speak more than a thousand words and I can understand nearly everything that others say to me. Of course this last part was a major given, so maybe it really didn't count much.
All creeplings have the ability to understand the language of kats from almost the day we are born. It's implanted into our brains so that we will be better able to obey our Master's commands with minimal effort. This makes it more possible for things to be carried out more efficiently and quickly.
Right now though, things were going to go anyway but quick. Just because Furston had found a way to get me to speak didn't mean that I was going to say much. I still wasn't in the mood to say much of anything.
"You know what we have to go over, #3. We do this every time we have these sessions," Furston said.
"Ah yes. The same boring prattle," I snorted.
"Boring? Now that isn't fair, you know. I know that you don't like doing this, but you know that you have to," Furston said.
"I'm not in the mood to be fair, Furston," I snapped irritably.
Furston glared at me slightly, but not enough that I would have to worry that she might return the favor. She knew that my anger wasn't directed at her. It never was, since Furston was the only kat who never intentionally tried to hurt me. The one that I was really angry with was Fishbreath and myself.
I was mad that I had been stupid enough to give him an excuse to shock me again and that he had taken the chance. I was mad that my wing and foot both hurt whenever I moved them. I was just mad in general and just didn't feel like putting up with anyone else, even Furston.
"Whether you want to be fair or not, you know you have to do this, #3," Furston warned sternly," You know it's the only way you'll keep Dark Kat from getting upset with you."
I flinched slightly when she used that threat. It was the only one besides telling me that I couldn't have my dinner that ever got me to do what she wanted and with good reason. Though I had never received the brunt of it like some, I knew how far Master's fury could go when he was displeased with someone. Not a fate that I want to tempt, which Furston knew and what made it such a perfect tactic to get me to cooperate.
"Fine," I surrendered," Let's start the vocabulary lessons."
Furston gave me a triumphant smile that I was sorely tempted to wipe off her face. It always got on my nerves whenever she managed to pull one over on me. To me, that meant that I was slipping in some way and I hate when that happens. I like to stay ahead of the others, just so that I can give them a surprise when they're not expecting it. I hadn't been able to do that and now I was stuck with the consequences. Oh lucky me.
A/N: There we go. Part 3's all done. I know that things are going very slowly for this story right now, but I promise that things are going to pick up soon. I just want to give the details of #3's life before I get to anything major. That will be happening in the next few chapters, I promise. Until then, later and thanks for reading.
Chapter 2: My Nightmare
A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. Nice to know that this story isn't as dumb as I thought it might be. And I'm sorry that it took me so long to update. I was working on some of my other stories and got caught up in schoolwork at the same time. Believe me, very boring and not helpful to the creative process.
Things eventually settled down after Master left. The remaining scientists, two males and two females, all of varying sizes and fur colors, soon settled back into their own tasks of sorting through data and any anomalies that came with it. Either way, it was something that would take them several hours to complete. So they were going to keep to their jobs in order to get in done so they could get out of here and off to another part of the compound.
While they did those jobs, I spent my own time just watching them work. It was something that I did almost every afternoon once the testing was done. It helped to give me a better idea of just what each kat was like and how they interacted with one another on a personal basis.
It is kind of strange in a way. Since I was the specimen, I was supposed to be the one that everyone observed so they could learn about me. It's not supposed to be the other way around, with me watching the scientists to see what they would do.
Despite any peculiarity that came from this, I still continued my daily observation of the scientists. They of course, were too caught up in their work to even notice me, which suited me just fine. If they didn't have any clue to what I was doing, that meant that I was free to do things in peace.
So I kept my watch up, starting first with the one nearest to me and then allowing my attention to wander from there. Nearest to me turned out to be the pessimist of the group, Dr. Tabitha Cox. As usual, she was muttering about something that had happened during testing. Knowing her, she was probably thinking of what had gone wrong and how it could have been worse.
I wouldn't be surprised if that were the case. For as long as I've known her, the only Cox can think is with sarcasm and that nothing in the world can go right and that everything can go wrong. Why she thinks like that, I have no idea. I just know that it's something that's obviously kept her alive all this time and what makes her one of the more feared members of the scientists.
Which is really quite strange when one considers what a runt Cox is when compared to other kats. Standing at just under five feet in height, Tabitha Cox could easily be considered either harmless or an easy target for larger kats. Her creamy, well-trimmed white fur and deep blue eyes only add to this illusion and has more than once attracted the unwanted attention of the male population.
It isn't until too late that many learn of the deception of those big blue eyes and that short height. They learn that hidden behind all that there is a vicious wildcat who uses her sarcasm and pessimism to cut down anyone who dares to cross her path. More than one of the other scientists or even the other creeplings has come against her and lost before they even knew a battle was being fought.
At the same time though, it was these qualities that helped Cox to do her job with the best of them. She was in charge of forecasting possible problems in testing and finding solutions to the snags before they were even a problem. As of yet, except for when Fishbreath loses his temper or one of the other creeplings decides to make trouble, there has yet to be any serious setbacks in the lab, all thanks to Tabitha Cox.
Though he was nowhere as pessimistic, Dr. Cecil Springfoot also had his uses. Those uses were usually centered in the technical areas, since the only times I really ever saw Springfoot was when he was at a console. Well, I would see the brown tips of his ears from behind the computer screen where he was working.
That suited me well enough. If he was doing his job, then I wouldn't have to put up with the brown furred feline that wore glasses that were thicker than coke bottles. He has absolutely no sense of humor and thinks that everything has to be as neat and orderly as his computers.
The humor around the lab can only fall to one feline. That is Randolph Bristles, a tall kat with beige fur edge in black stripes on his arms, tail and face. His eyes are a dark brown, almost black, that shines with that all too familiar and very welcome humor and understanding.
That sort of thing comes in handy whenever Bristles has to do his job, which is to handle all the medical problems that might arise. When he's taking a blood sample from me or bandaging a wound, he tends to make jokes. The jokes are usually about something that's happened in the lab or just a general subject. But I never find them very funny, since the punch lines make absolutely to me.
The others on the other hand, now they always found Bristles jokes to be hilarious. Even Cox and Springfoot, who seemed to have been born without a funny bone in their bodies liked them. They both claimed that Bristles' jokes helped to make the day pass a little faster. But there was no one who believed such a thing more than Furston, who I think had a liking for the male kat anyhow.
Emily Furston was probably what a male kat would consider very attractive and probably could have gotten Bristles' attention if she had chosen to. Her scarlet fur was luxuriant and shiny to a fault, as was her darker head fur. These were matched off by her deep, emerald green eyes that could almost melt the heart of the male population of the kat species. I know that was certainly how it worked whenever Master's hired ninjas dared to come to the lab and spare her a glance.
Despite her looks, Furston was also a very intelligent she-kat. She had to be, considering the position she held. As Fishbreath's assistant, she had to know how to work with genetic codings, chemical balances, computers, and so on. She kept an on eye on everything, making sure it went smoothly, and still managed to take care of her own work.
Work that basically came and went as the hours dragged on. Eventually, the scientists finished their tasks and logged in the remaining data. Once that was done, there was just one thing left to do before everyone called it a day. And it was the one thing that everyone, myself included, wasn't really looking forward to. It was the one activity that always brought a headache to anyone involved. Mostly because I didn't ever feel like cooperating and would act stubborn for whoever worked with me.
It was really a simple procedure from an outside point of view. I didn't have to be moved from my cage, so there was no reason to worry about making my injuries worse. All someone would have to do would sit in a chair next to my cage and hold up the cards for me to see. I would repeat whatever I saw on the card and then that was it. Too bad that wasn't how things ever went, which was why no one but one kat would ever bother to do it.
"So who wants to take the verbal sessions with #3?" Bristles asked.
The question was really just a formality. Everyone already knew who would take the job. She had done so almost every night ever since these sessions had started and she seemed to be in no mood to stop.
"I'll do it, Randy," Furston volunteered on cue.
Bristles nodded and turned to get ready to leave, with Cox following in suit. They didn't get very far however. There was one little factor that none of them had been counting on. That something was none other than Cecil Springfoot.
During times like this, he was quiet and kept his opinions to himself. So no one really paid him much attention nor did they expect him to say anything. But tonight, for someone reason, he decided to speak up and it caught everyone off guard.
"Why don't I do it this time, Emily?" Springfoot offered," You do the verbal sessions with #3 almost every night. Maybe you should take a break for once."
"It's fine, Brent. I'll take care of it," Furston insisted.
"But Emily," Springfoot started.
"You should probably just let her do it, Brent. You know that she's the only one who can get anything decent out of #3 when it comes to talking," Bristles warned.
"Besides, the last time you tried to get #3 to talk, you nearly got part of your ear sliced off," Cox added.
Springfoot just glared at Cox for that one. He remembered that incident too and didn't like to be reminded of it. I guess one can't blame him for that. No one likes to be reminded of the times when they made complete fools of themselves after being constantly warned by others to be careful.
Of course, I don't like to be reminded of that incident too much myself. It was one of those times when I totally lost control of myself and let my temper get the better of me. For in my anger, I had almost seriously hurt someone. That is not something that I'm proud of.
But at the same time, I think if I had a chance to do everything from that day over, I would do things just the same. Springfoot had earned what pain he did and what might have come. When he had been giving me the lesson, he had been acting as if I were indeed a stupid animal and could not understand what he wanted of me.
I usually tolerated that kind of attitude from Springfoot because I didn't have to deal with him very often. Normally, he was working at a console while someone else was working on a personal basis with me. The times that he did have to work with me, it was usually just to hook me up to something or to return me to my cage.
The one time he tried working with me otherwise, well, things just went badly. In order to get me to do what he wanted, Springfoot tried to bully me. He called me names, shocked me more than once with tags that shouldn't have even been in place, and he even tried to steal my food bowl from me. The first two I could tolerate since they were things that I dealt with on a daily basis. But when he tried to take my food bowl, that was crossing the line.
Though I had more control of myself and didn't make such a big deal about my food, there was an unspoken rule in the lab. Unless I gave my permission, the inside of my cage was off limits. That area was considered my personal space and anything within its confines were to be left alone.
Springfoot had broken that rule when he tried to take my bowl. So I reacted in the only way that seemed fit to me. I had tried clawing at him and had managed to snag the tip of his ear. Immediately, Springfoot dropped my bowl and tried to stop his then bleeding ear.
He was having much luck on his own, since he couldn't see the wound for himself or how bad it was. And there was no one else in the lab to ask since no one ever stuck around once the verbal sessions started. So the only choice left open to Springfoot was to leave the lab and go seek help. Where and when he found it, I really don't know nor do I care. Springfoot had simply gotten what he deserved as far as I was concerned and that was that.
Besides, the injury was not as serious as it could have been. The wound had healed over, leaving only a small scar as evidence to what I had done. Its effects still remained nonetheless. After that day, Springfoot learned a new respect and side of me. He realized that simply because I was a creepling and that I was in a cage, it did not give him the right to bully me.
After that, Springfoot had less to do with me than before. He would keep away from my cage when he passed by, never giving me more than a sidelong glance. I just ended up ignoring him like I had before. That was how things had gone until now, as I watched Springfoot arguing with the others.
I really had no idea why he was being so insistent about giving me my lesson this evening. He certainly wasn't doing it to be nice. That much I could sense from where I was. He might have been doing it to see he could take another crack at me for almost shaving off his ear. I didn't know, but I knew that I didn't want him near me. I had enough of a headache from earlier.
It was the insistence of the others that finally convinced Springfoot to just let Furston handle things as she usually did. He knew that with Bristles and Cox backing her up, he had no chance of convincing the she-kat to do otherwise. She would hold to her decision and leave it at that.
So Springfoot just spared Furston and myself an annoyed glare as he was leaving with Bristles. He was obviously miffed that things had not gone his way, so he would probably drown his frustration in his upcoming meal. He would find that in the mess hall, where I knew that the scientists always went after they left the lab.
"We'll save a plate for you, Emily," Cox promised.
"Thanks Tabitha," Furston replied.
The other she-kat nodded and then followed after the others. Quiet spread over the lab now that they were gone. It was a little strange in its own way, since there were usually so many kats working in the lab during the day. But I was used to it, so I didn't pay it much attention.
Instead, I just watched Furston as she prepared the tape recorder, data forms and lesson cards for the upcoming sessions. She used all of these each time we went into a verbal session. The tape recorder was to document whatever was said between us for future research, while the data forms were to write down Furston's personal opinions on my behavior. And of course, the lesson cards were the latest words and syntaxes that I was supposed to be learning.
Just the thought of such a thing made my stomach ache as Furston finished gathering her things and headed my way. I've always hated the lessons more than anything else when it came to my training. For me, it's a combination of boredom, uselessness, and stupidity all rolled into one.
"So do you want to do this the easy way or the hard way?" Furston asked me as she set her things on a counter near my cage.
I just yawned in answer as I stretched out my wings and settled against a wall. That was an obvious enough answer to Furston. She knew that I was saying: 'Do you even have to ask?' It was something that we went through almost every time this started and a question that I would have thought Furston would know the answer to by now.
"I really wish you wouldn't do this all the time, #3," Furston said, glaring at me in irritation.
I just yawned again. Furston hissed slightly in irritation as she prepared herself for the challenge that she knew was going to come. But for Furston, this was nothing new. She knew that even if I was more cooperative with her than others, it wasn't that easy to get me talk. I'm not one for conversation and prefer to keep my own counsel to that of others. The only times I will talk without goading from others is when I have an observation of my own or Master wants me to say something to him. Other than that, I keep my beak shut.
There's just one little snag with that attitude however. Furston knows me just as well as I know myself. Because of that, she knows how to get me to do what whenever she wants to.
"If you're going to be stubborn, then so will I," Furston said.
That set alarms off in my head instantly. Whenever Furston took that tone, I knew that there was going to be trouble. Not the kind of trouble that came whenever Fishbreath got mad at me. But a kind that usually meant I had to sacrifice some of my already dwindling dignity.
"I hate to pull this on you, but you're not leaving me any choice," Furston replied, her words already confirming what I knew was to come.
I knew what was coming after she said that. She was going to tell me that if I didn't cooperate, then I wasn't going to be fed my evening meal. It was a rule that had first been started just after I came to the lab for testing. The assumption was that since my kind had such a regard for food, that it would be a means to control me.
Maybe if I had been less intelligent, maybe closer to what I had been before all this started, it might have worked better. But once I became smarter, it didn't really work that way. I knew then that I didn't need to eat everyday to survive. I could live for a time without anything to sustain me. If I went too long without food though, I knew that I would eventually weaken and die. Since that was not the future that I wanted, I decided that it was better to do as I was told for the time being. So I cooperated with the scientists and did what they told me.
Sometimes though, like now, I would get into a mood where I didn't want to do anything. That was when Furston would pull the rule out on me again and I would have to do what she told me. It's times like that I almost want to give Furston a piece of my mind about using blackmail, but then, that would be playing right into her paws. So I don't bother with that and instead just follow directions.
"Fine," I sighed," What do you want me to say this time?"
My voice came out as somewhat gravelly and I always assumed that it was harsh on the ears of others. The tones I used were enough so that others could tell that I was female just by hearing me speak. At least that was what I assumed, but I wasn't totally sure.
Furston and the others certainly referred to me as a female. But I think they figured that out from all the blood samples they had taken towards the beginning. So that made it unclear to me if the tones of my voice sounded female to them or if it just sounded neutral.
Whatever I sound like, it has a great effect on how my words come out. Roughly half of them come out sounding like true kat speech. These are the smaller words that don't require a lot of finesse on my part. But the other half is the real problem. Those are words that have more than four syllables and require someone to twist their tongues into all sorts of knots to be able to pronounce anything. When I use those words, my voice either makes them sound too gravelly to be understood or too low pitched to be heard.
This may not sound too bad, since there are kats all over the world that have trouble speaking. But one has to consider that I actually have quite an extensive vocabulary for one who only gained the ability of speech less than three months before. I know how to speak more than a thousand words and I can understand nearly everything that others say to me. Of course this last part was a major given, so maybe it really didn't count much.
All creeplings have the ability to understand the language of kats from almost the day we are born. It's implanted into our brains so that we will be better able to obey our Master's commands with minimal effort. This makes it more possible for things to be carried out more efficiently and quickly.
Right now though, things were going to go anyway but quick. Just because Furston had found a way to get me to speak didn't mean that I was going to say much. I still wasn't in the mood to say much of anything.
"You know what we have to go over, #3. We do this every time we have these sessions," Furston said.
"Ah yes. The same boring prattle," I snorted.
"Boring? Now that isn't fair, you know. I know that you don't like doing this, but you know that you have to," Furston said.
"I'm not in the mood to be fair, Furston," I snapped irritably.
Furston glared at me slightly, but not enough that I would have to worry that she might return the favor. She knew that my anger wasn't directed at her. It never was, since Furston was the only kat who never intentionally tried to hurt me. The one that I was really angry with was Fishbreath and myself.
I was mad that I had been stupid enough to give him an excuse to shock me again and that he had taken the chance. I was mad that my wing and foot both hurt whenever I moved them. I was just mad in general and just didn't feel like putting up with anyone else, even Furston.
"Whether you want to be fair or not, you know you have to do this, #3," Furston warned sternly," You know it's the only way you'll keep Dark Kat from getting upset with you."
I flinched slightly when she used that threat. It was the only one besides telling me that I couldn't have my dinner that ever got me to do what she wanted and with good reason. Though I had never received the brunt of it like some, I knew how far Master's fury could go when he was displeased with someone. Not a fate that I want to tempt, which Furston knew and what made it such a perfect tactic to get me to cooperate.
"Fine," I surrendered," Let's start the vocabulary lessons."
Furston gave me a triumphant smile that I was sorely tempted to wipe off her face. It always got on my nerves whenever she managed to pull one over on me. To me, that meant that I was slipping in some way and I hate when that happens. I like to stay ahead of the others, just so that I can give them a surprise when they're not expecting it. I hadn't been able to do that and now I was stuck with the consequences. Oh lucky me.
A/N: There we go. Part 3's all done. I know that things are going very slowly for this story right now, but I promise that things are going to pick up soon. I just want to give the details of #3's life before I get to anything major. That will be happening in the next few chapters, I promise. Until then, later and thanks for reading.