Chapter 3

"I did not find him that strange, Mel," Cole noted quietly as she drove them back to the Watchfire. "I've met far stranger humans." He paused. "Although... he was looking at me... the way Jess used to."

Mel grinned, deciding that there was no need to explain to Cole that it was not only many human females who found him attractive. She wondered what he would make of that, but decided that it really was a discussion for another time.

She settled for a reassuring, "I wouldn't worry too much about it, Cole."

He nodded faintly. "The fugitives are definitely involved, Mel."

She turned her head, startled. "Really? You sure?"

He nodded. "If these creatures are not smart enough to learn such tasks in only a month, then this dog's brain must have been modified in some fashion. It would explain its other behaviors as well."

"Other behaviors?" Mel asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It has behaved very aggressively towards one of the thieves on more than one occasion. David said that Pomeranians are gentle creatures. At the museum, it bit one thief through a leather glove hard enough to make him bleed quite heavily."

"And the fugitives could mess with a dog's brain in a way that would make it brighter, stronger, and more aggressive?" Mel guessed, not particularly surprised.

Cole nodded. "Vardians work extensively in gene therapy, but they are not always fully successful." His expression pained, he added, "By attempting to make one stronger or smarter, they may accidentally make him much more aggressive. Homicidal, even, Mel."

"Rhee?" Mel whispered, reaching across the car and gently touching his cheek.

Cole nodded faintly, leaning his face into the comforting touch. "Some members of Varda's warrior caste were subjected to gene therapy to make them stronger. Unfortunately, in cases such as that of Rhee, they also became so aggressive that they started to enjoyed killing."

"And you think that's what's going on with this dog?" Mel asked after a few minutes of silence. "Why a Pomeranian, though, Cole? Why not something bigger and stronger to begin with?"

"The combination of its size and intelligence may have made it a desirable subject." Cole shrugged. "It may not be the only creature they have been experimenting on."

"But it's the only one that's been reported missing," Mel pointed. 

Cole nodded. "Perhaps they could find other types of dogs in other ways," he ventured. "Maybe... maybe it was just a coincidence, an opportunity that presented itself."

Mel shrugged and nodded. "Could be. I guess anything's possible."

"Yes, Mel," Cole agreed. "If you had told me four months ago that I would be here like this now, I would not have believed it. But you are right. Anything is possible."

***

"I am going to strangle that damned mutt if he ever so much as looks at me in the future, Zin!" Lana snarled, stalking into his office and brandishing a heavily-bandaged hand at him. "What if he gave me something? I know he hasn't had all his shots yet!"

"He bit you again?" Zin asked, frowning in disgust and putting down the report he had been perusing. This was getting out of hand.

Lana folded her arms over her chest, her expression bitter. "Eight stitches and a rabies shot, Zin!" Unfolding her arms, she placed them on the desk, leaning towards him and hissing, "I've come out of sexual encounters with members of the warrior-caste needing fewer stitches than that, Zin..."

Cursing, he hit his intercom. "Get Meterand in here!" he ordered. "Can I offer you a drink, Lana?" he sighed.

"Sir, I thought you would never ask," Lana murmured, walking over to the liquor cabinet and pouring herself and Zin each a glass of scotch. Considering for a moment, she poured several more shots into her glass before returning to his desk with them.

They sat in companionable silence for ten minutes, until they were disturbed by a knock at the door.

"Enter," Zin called. The door was opened and Meterand walked in, trotting over to Zin's desk. Growling once at Lana, he looked up at Zin who promptly picked him up by the scruff of the neck and demanded, "What is your problem?"

"He's an unstable mutation, that's what his problem is," Lana muttered, shaking her head. "I told you, Zin, his DNA is playing hell with his host's DNA."

"That doesn't explain to me why you needed several stitches this afternoon, Lana," Zin pointed out gently. "Care to be more specific?"

"I would love to be more specific, Zin. Problem is that I can't because our geneticists haven't the first clue what's happening to him or why."

Zin sighed in frustration. "Give them a deadline," he ordered. "And make sure that they are sufficiently horrified of you to be able to meet it." That would smooth some of her ruffled feathers, too, he knew.

Lana smiled faintly. "Yes, sir."

"In the meantime, recommendations?"

"A muzzle and a choke-chain?" she suggested, shrugging.

"Not funny, Lana," he sighed.

"I wasn't joking, Zin." She glared down at Meterand. "Your favorite little lap dog is starting to irritate me in no small way..."

"Hmm, well... I'll take your recommendation under advisement," Zin promised. "You would do well to think about it yourself, Meterand," he added grimly. "Lana, show Meterand out, will you?"

"Can I go for a field-goal with him instead?"

"I'm not even going to dignify that one," Zin told her, shaking his head and pointing towards the door.

Shrugging, Lana walked to the door and opened it. "Don't let your tail get caught when I close the door, Meterand," she advised as he half-ran from the office. Shaking her head, she closed the door again. "This can not continue, Zin," she sighed, draining her glass and pouring herself another. "He is not just becoming increasingly aggressive. He is becoming increasingly rash and careless."

"Maybe I should just take you off this detail?" Zin suggested gently. "It'll sooth Meterand's temper, I'm sure."

Lana sighed and closed her eyes. She would have loved to get off the detail. Unfortunately, there were other considerations. "You have another person working for you who can come close to controlling him?" she asked quietly.

"You know I don't," Zin sighed.

"Then I don't see where removing me from the detail is an option, not until we find a way to get that ankle-biter under control."

Zin sighed and nodded. "You're right, Lana, of course." Smiling faintly, he added, "You usually are."

Lana flushed and bowed her head, not answering.

"What about some sort of tranquilizer for Meterand? Something to take the edge off? It can't be easy for him. He's been stuck in that body for months now."

Lana shook her head. "I've already discussed that with the doctors. Any tranquilizer strong enough to substantially modify his temperament would also grossly impair his motor skills. He'd blow himself up the first time he tried to lay a micro-charge."

"Not an option," Zin agreed, nodding. "Neurodebilitator?"

She sighed and shook her head again. "Too dangerous. He wouldn't be able to take any initiative on his own. We'd also have the same problems with impaired coordination."

"I've seen people under those things who could function just fine," he pointed out.

"Yeah, likewise. The problem is one of scale and neurochemistry. His brain's just not wired right to accept one."

"Ah." Zin rubbed his forehead, closing his eyes. "That muzzle is starting to sound better and better. He snapped at Vax yesterday."

Lana frowned. "But Meterand likes Vax."

"Which is why I'm getting worried."

"We could always have all his teeth pulled out," Lana suggested. "In fact, sir, I'll volunteer myself for that duty right now."

Zin chuckled and shook his head. "Come here, Lana," he ordered. When Lana had circled the desk and dropped to her knees next to his chair, he gently cupped her face in his hands. "I know you hate Meterand, Princess. I know you have reason to hate him. But you can not allow your emotions to cloud your perception of this matter or to alter your behaviors. Failure lies down that road."

Lana sighed deeply, closing her eyes and leaning her face into his hands. "I mean it, Zin," she whispered. "Emotion-free. I have considered all the possibilities and I can assure you that this is getting out of hand. He's going to kill somebody soon."

"Meterand?" Zin scoffed. "In that body?"

"In that body," Lana said firmly, opening her eyes and nodding up at him. "In that body with that attitude and the strength and intelligence of a Vardian? Hell yes, Zin. He is coming unglued stuck in there and he is going to kill someone before long. I'd really rather it wasn't me, if you don't mind."

"Do you think killing someone would make him feel better?"

"That you'd have to ask the psychologists." She tilted her head curiously at him. "Why?"

Zin smiled and shrugged and absently tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear. "Oh, it's nothing. Just that a certain city councilwoman is really starting to annoy me."

"Hmm... Well, in that case." Lana rose and leaned across his desk, hitting the intercom and saying into the speaker, "Let's have Meterand back in here."

***

"Ah, thanks, Mar," Vic said as Maria handed him a bottle of beer. "Here's to the hottest damned partner a guy could hope for. May her fridge never be devoid of brew."

Maria made a face at him on general principle, shaking her head and clinking her bottle against his before twisting off the top.

"So what are we watching tonight?" Vic asked taking a long pull of his drink.

"Mmm..." Maria glanced thoughtfully at the shelf holding her DVDs. "X-files?" she offered, shrugging.

Vic grinned faintly. "Sure. Let's watch the episode about the dog who robbed all those banks."

She made a face at him, sniggering and shaking her head. "You just watch it, Vicky! If you're not a good boy, I'll force you to sit through 'An Affair to Remember'."

"You wouldn't!" Vic protested, laughing. "Besides, I don't think you even own that one."

She shrugged, her eyes twinkling. "So I'll borrow your copy. Why do you have a copy anyway?"

"Mel gave it to me one year," he lied, rising and walking over to the DVDs. "Matrix?"

"Again with reality being all weird. Aren't the department shrinks always going on about how you're not supposed to take your work home?"

Vic scoffed and plugged in the DVD. "Yeah, like that is going to happen. How do you avoid it when they can call you back 24/7?" he demanded, frustrated.

Maria shrugged, her expression apologetic. "Speaking of which, how's Melanie?"

He sighed and shook his head, taking another long sip of beer before answering. "Pretty annoyed. I think she's getting ready to break up with me again."

"Ah, Christ, Vicky, I'm sorry." Sighing, Maria put down her drink and hugged him for a long moment. "Why? That man she lives with?" she asked, pulling away.

"Nah, Mel's not like that. It's just the usual. That thing about not being able to... not take my work home."

"Ah, that one. Same reason I can't seem to get one in the first place."

"No, that would be the fact that you enjoy scaring the crap out of a guy on the first date."

Maria shrugged and chuckled. "Well, how else am I going to know if they're ready for the Maria Cruz experience?" she asked reasonably.

"The 'Maria Cruz experience'? You open a theme-park?" he asked, shaking his head. "And how much are tickets?" he added, raising an eyebrow and regarding her with a hopeful grin.

Maria grabbed a throw-pillow and swatted him with it. "Putz."

"Watch the movie," he ordered.

"Hey, Vicky, don't forget who outranks whom," she advised. "I give the orders here." Grinning, she added, "Watch the movie."

"Yes, ma'am," Vic answered, saluting and then turning his attention to the screen.

Maria watched him thoughtfully out of the corner of her eye for several minutes before quietly telling him, "She'll come back, you know."

He glanced over at her, wondering how she always seemed to know exactly what he was thinking about. Sighing, he shook his head. "Don't think so, Mar. Not this time. She's really getting fed up."

"She's not a dumb woman, Vic. She'll come back. She always does."

"Last time for everything."

She bit her lower lip and pulled him into another gentle hug. "It'll work with you two eventually," she promised. "You love her enough to make it work and Melanie... she loves you enough to let you try. Now, one of these times, everything is going to slide into position and--" She sighed and shook her head as Vic began sniggering.

"Hey, things 'slide into position' just fine, thanks," he laughed. "Why do you think she keeps coming back for more?"

Maria hit him with the throw pillow again. "Pendejo... I mean it, though, Vic," she said when his laughter had died down. "Eventually everything is going to... click into place--"

"Not sure I'm familiar with that technique. Wanna share?"

"Oh, you piece of..." Maria shook her head and reached for the pillow again.

Vic laughed and ducked as soon as she leaned in that direction. Maria grinned and shook her head, holding the pillow in her lap and returning her attention, or at least the appearance of attention, to the movie. She had him laughing and feeling happy again. Mission accomplished for now.

She sighed and shook her head as the phone rang. Muting the TV, she answered, "This is Cruz." She listened for a moment, frowning. "Oh, come on. That is not even slightly amusing, Ramirez! After the day I've had I do not... You're sure? Yeah, okay. Yeah. Yeah. Thanks..."

Vic watched curiously as Maria hung up, muttering a string of expletives in at least three languages. And those were just the ones that he could identify.

"Hey, what's going on?" he asked gently.

"You know the bank-robbing dog?"

Vic sighed. "What'd it do? Hit another bank or finally make the paper?"

Maria shook her head. "It killed someone."

"Victim tripped over it, right?" Vic asked, grinning and shaking his head. "I think that's the leading cause of Pomeranian-related..." He trailed off, staring at the disgruntled woman. His eyes widened faintly. "You aren't kidding, are you, Mar?" he whispered.

"Trust me, Vicky, I wish I was." She sighed and rose, retrieving her car-keys. "Come on. We've got a scene to process..."

"Mar? How does a Pom kill a guy?"

"Woman," she corrected him absently. "Councilwoman Elders. And, uh, it... uh, apparently... tore her throat out..."

"Oh, come on!" he protested. "There is no way in hell that a dog that size could do that. It had to have been a coyote or a rabid stray, something like that."

"Not according to the security-camera footage," Maria sighed, shaking her head. "Sorry."

"Isn't this animal-control's department?" Vic muttered in disgust, rising and retrieving his coat.

"You would think so." Maria shrugged. "They're out looking for it now. Damned trained circus-mutt..."

Vic sighed and nodded in agreement. "Tell me about it. You know, Mar, this is why I am a cat person."