Bishop entered the room where the mutated turtles were being kept, observing silently for a moment as the scientist who had been present with him when they discovered the things could talk cooed over them. The previous day, Bishop had been unable to recall the mans name, but according to the memo it was Dr Hall, expert in animal behaviour and biology, probably the most exert member at their disposal at that time. According to the memo, Dr Hall had requested – and been granted – a team of other scientists with expertise including human psychology, human physiology, mutagen's and evolutionary history – Bishop had almost smiled when he read the last one.

But his concern was not the welfare or future of the creatures, it was national security. How did a powerful mutagen come to be beneath the city streets and more importantly, who could have engineered it? Some of the most senior chemists and biologists in the country were currently going gaga over the samples that had been gathered, stating unequivocally that no study of mutagens had ever gone this far. It had advanced their research by years already and they'd barely had the stuff five minutes. The implications of a non-Government agency being able to create such a substance were unsettling no matter what explanations he considered.

"Dr Hall."

Hall started at hearing Bishop's voice and turned around, his carefully neutral expression not fooling Bishop for a moment. "I take it you're here for your specimen"

"Yes, I'll take it immediately if you please."

"Him. You'll take him. They're all males, I checked."

"What does it matter?"

"It matters a great deal!" Hall pushed his glasses further up his nose, glaring at Bishop, anger lending him the courage to speak to the Agent more bluntly than he would have normally. "These are no longer household pets, they are wonders and I have no idea how you can see them as anything else."

"For my part Doctor, I fail to understand how you cannot see the importance of studying these beings further."

"I do see it. But I think the methods you proposed are reprehensible. They're living creatures!"

"So are the mice you use for dissection, but you don't write impassioned memos to the Department about their welfare." Growing bored of the conversation, Bishop strode toward the cage. "Do you have a preference over which should come with me?"

Hall narrowed his eyes, realising he was being mocked. "I would rather none of them did. It's my opinion that these beings display traits normally found only within humans – one of them speaks for heavens sake! With nurturing, we can discover more about the future possibilities of this mutagen and still be able to test their blood..."

"Dr Hall. You know I can't defy Department orders on the strength of your convictions. Even if I wanted to. Be satisfied that your arguments won them over enough for three of them to be left to your proposed team of experts. But one of them belongs to my team – and if you will not pick which, I shall take one at random."

"If you were to withdraw your proposal..."

"No."

Dr Hall sighed. "I can't be expected to pick which of the infants will be your experiment!"

"Then I shall." Bishop pushed past Hall and opened the lid of the cage. "My only instructions are that I am not to remove the talker. Which is it?"

"Donatello. Him, right there."

Bishop shot the doctor a contemptuous glance. "You named them? And I thought you were a professional. Growing too attached to them is a mistake. My team may well be granted the rest of them yet, should your best intentions fail. For all you know, your 'Donatello' may be merely a mimic. A parrot can speak and you wouldn't call it human."

"He's not a mimic and I'm sure that with time, all of them will be talking. Including whichever goes with you."

"This is getting us nowhere." Bishop reached into the cage with both hands and grabbed the first turtle he encountered by the shell, lifting it out, startled by the size and weight of the animal. "This one isn't the talker?"

"No. His name is Leonardo."

"Not anymore. We'll assign him a specimen number. It's far more apt than a name. The attachment you have to these things is unhealthy. I recommend if you find it too difficult to be impersonal about your work, you find a different job. Get me a cage for it."

"Him," corrected Hall icily, but got up to do what the Agent demanded, finding another cage that was roomy enough for the turtle to move about in. He suspected no one else Leonardo dealt with from now would show him any such consideration.

Leonardo struggled against Bishop's grip, turning his head and snapping. Bishop didn't seem to notice. Hall handed over the cage and looked pointedly at the Agent. "He doesn't like being held like that."

"Its comfort is not a major concern of mine." Bishop waited for Hall to open the new cage and dropped the turtle unceremoniously inside. "Say goodbye."

Hall glared after Bishop as the Agent strode out of the lab, contemplating how much he hated the sanctimonious bastard. He wished he had been able to stress his beliefs more in the quick report he had filed to the Department, tell them just how miraculous these turtles were. But Bishop's report had been filed at the same time and although the majority had apparently agreed with Hall's theories, a dissenting factor had forced the bureau to err on the side of caution, allow Bishop his small triumph. At the expense of Leonardo.

Returning to his seat in front of the cage, he sat down heavily and idly scratched Raphael's head. The turtle had raised himself onto his hind legs and was looking around, apparently wondering where Leonardo had vanished to so suddenly.

"You'll forget," said the doctor, petting the creature. "You'll all forget as you get older and the mutagen changes you further. And that's a blessing. You'll never know that there were more of you, or that it was Agent Bishop who took Leonardo away."

&&&&&&&&&&

Bishop raised an eyebrow at the scientist, Dr Lee, whom he'd had study the sample from the bioengineered alien Donatello's team had produced several days previously. "Have you discovered anything about this sample that Adamson hasn't?"

"Adamson has only been concerned with the regeneration and recreation of the greys to date," replied Dr Lee, a small smirk on his face. "We have looked in other areas and found out something very – interesting about the chemical makeup of this sample. If you'll turn your attention to this recording of one of our experiments earlier today..."

He pressed a button on a remote and the TV sprang to life, playing back what had been recorded. There was a counter in the corner of the screen, marking the time that the experiment had occurred. The picture revealed an ordinary white mouse in a cage, drinking from a water bottle.

"We introduced an amount of the sample to the rodent through its water," explained Lee. "This occurred several hours after we introduced the sample to the water, but this is the part I think you'll find most interesting."

The mouse left the water alone and scampered over to the food bowl, pausing at the side of it on its hind legs, without touching the food. Bishop leant closer to the screen, fascinated in spite of himself.

"Is it shaking?"

The scientist nodded, a grin coming over his face. "Very obviously so. We thought the water was going to kill it but – well, watch this."

The mouse on the screen suddenly fell to all fours and began to squeal, seeming to grow right in front of their eyes. Bishop stared, his eyes widening as the rodents snout seemed to elongate and it squealed in pain. The torso thickened, the shoulders growing more pronounced, the tail swishing angrily. And all the time the mouse squealed shrilly.

The whole thing took less that five minutes. In the background of the cage, the shadows of the scientists and their startled exclamations were obvious, but it was the mouse that Bishop was unable to look away from, the changes being wrought to it.

"The sample you gave us literally changes the creature on a molecular level," said Lee, unable to keep the grin off his face any longer. "With your permission, we'd like to conduct further tests."

Bishop mused over the suggestion. "This must be kept highly classified you understand. Experiments such as this must be kept strictly under wraps. The country has signed any number of treaties prohibiting these types of tests."

"I understand sir. Only those with the highest security clearance."

"Report directly to me and only to me. I want a full written report of your findings on a daily basis and any breakthroughs are to be reported to me immediately."

"Yes sir."

Bishop glanced back at the screen, where the mouse in the cage was so large it could move only a few steps before reaching the other side. "All future tests are to be carried out in the maximum security area. There can be no risk of any of this getting out. What happened to the mouse?"

"It's alive in the lab. Since we can easily replicate the study, I believe that we should dissect it to see what we can learn about the molecular changes undergone."

"Agreed. And I want you to get back to me with what you find as soon as you do." Bishop smiled nastily. "No doubt this is the next step in the mutagenetic field that this branch began investigating almost twenty years ago. Remind me, how many creatures have we managed to mutate with the synthetic mutagen from the turtles blood samples?"

"We have fourteen under observation currently. Ten reptiles, we found that the mutagen was more stable on them – due to the origin of the sample probably. The improved synthesis we came up with has proved more stable on mammals, they comprise the other four."

"Fortunate we were able to come up with such a generous ready supply of mutant DNA," said Bishop. "I would like you to attempt the experiment on one of the mutants."

"Yes sir," said Dr Lee. "There's a mutated gecko we had some success with. We mutated it at six months old just under seven years ago. Would that be suitable?"

"Whatever you think best Doctor," said Bishop, rising to leave. "I shall of course be present at that particular test."

"Of course," said the scientist, having expected nothing else.

&&&&&&&&&&&

When it happened, it happened fast.

One moment, the mutant gecko, specimen number 007685, had been timidly offering its arm for the latest round of injections. Then the plunger on the syringe had been depressed and everything had gone to hell in a hurry.

It screamed, bending over double and choking violently. It had long since learned to walk on its hind legs, having grown in a humanoid shape since its mutation, but it lost its motor controls and fell heavily to its knees. Panting harshly, it stared through the bars at the scientists gathered around and then howled as the skin began to ripple, the mutagen spreading through its body and changing its physical form at an alarming rate. The most startling change was its physical form, which began to thicken and grow mere seconds after its injection, after only a couple of minutes recognisable as reptilian but unidentifiable as to which one. The gecko's head elongated, its muscles became more pronounced.

"It's so much faster than before!" said one of the scientists hoarsely. "The mouse was introduced to the sample orally, but introducing it directly into the blood stream seems to speed up reaction time!"

The gecko slammed itself against the bars and as one, the whole group started. They may have been trying to seem detached, but even witnessing what had happened to the mouse had left them unprepared for this.

And then the gecko sank to all fours, crouching over in an almost foetal position. Its breathing was still laboured and harsh. Overcoming his fear, Dr Lee cautiously approached the cage.

"For crying out loud man, stay away!" shouted Bishop.

"It's OK sir," replied Lee. "I'm too far for it to reach me. I think its just the strain of the change that's causing..."

The gecko used the bars to pull itself to its feet, glaring at Dr Lee. Prior to the transformation it had been a cowed thing, merely a test mutation to ensure that the mutagen was in fact an improvement on previous attempts, speaking little and with difficulty due to the shape of its tongue and snout. There was no longer anything of that specimen left. It seemed enraged.

Without warning, it lashed out with its tail. Without the injection, the tail would not have reached, but the changes wrought on its body had also affected the tail and the tip caught the scientist beneath the chin, knocking him off his feet and sending him hurtling several yards, brought to an abrupt halt by a table on which more vials of the sample were being kept, along with notes, and equipment. The table collapsed, the scientist landing in a dazed heap in a pile of broken glass and sodden paper.

Pandemonium broke out in the lab. The shrieks of the former gecko echoed from the walls as someone else gave a small scream and a couple of the scientists moved forward with the intention of helping the injured man to his feet. A few turned their attention to the sodden notes, exclaiming in dismay although there were plenty of copies on hard drive.

Oh hell thought Bishop.

"STOP RIGHT NOW!"

The scientists paused in whatever they were doing, goggling at Bishop in a way he may have thought comical under other circumstances. In the background, the gecko snarled and beat against the bars.

"Do you realise anyone who has touched that sample runs the risk of being contaminated? Back off!"

Those who had been moving forward help the injured man immediately stepped back, staring as if they expected him to sprout horns. Maybe they did expect just that. Those rescuing notes dropped them, some wiping their hands hurriedly on their lab coats.

Bishop strode through the mess, standing over the injured man and glaring at him. "Dr – Lee, isn't it?"

"Y-yes sir," said the man weakly, putting his hand to his wounded chin.

"You'll have to be isolated. You're covered in the serum."

"But Agent Bishop sir! I can't, I need a doctor..."

"You are a doctor. I'm sure you can deal with it." Bishop turned to the others. "All of you will have to remain on the facility. To ensure there's no risk to your health."

"With respect sir, I think the risk is minimal..." began another scientist and froze as Bishop turned to glare at him.

"It's not your choice to make, no matter how minimal the risk." He stared around at all the scientists, wondering how the brightest the country had to offer could lose their heads so quickly and forget to take simple precautions, the safety drills that had been repeated over and over again. Should one of their number come into contact with any of the chemicals they experimented with here, no one was to approach them. They were to be immediately isolated.

He failed to notice the movements of Dr Lee behind him.

"You are all to remain on the base until further notice, although I will allow you to keep working on this – interesting problem. But you will have to remain away from other people until we determine that the compound is not airborne."

None of the group mentioned that Bishop himself had been in the room with them and presumably at as least as much risk as the rest of them. The question may occur to them later, when they were less shocked – but Bishop thought he could get away with it for now and find a way around any potentially dangerous questions later.

Hearing a sound behind him, he turned to Dr Lee, who had rose and was trying to make his way to the door in spite of his injuries. He moved faster than anyone would have expected, dashing in front of the man before he could reach the door and drawing the gun he always carried in the mans face.

"I'm afraid I have to insist. You aren't leaving here for the foreseeable future."