Scientists' Log

Experiment #94 is showing signs of depression. Less resistance from 94 than before the escape. Eats little and sleeps most times. Will study how margay DNA effects depression. Perhaps a psychiatrist of some sort would be useful? Will have to ask Mr. Rayton for permission.

The part that hurt the most to Kayta was Lilika's absence. She could deal with the utter disappointment of letting her chance at freedom be taken away from her. She could deal with the other cages being empty—except the one right next to her. Lilika had always been there and the fact that she no longer was pained her for nearly every moment of the day.

There were other pains, too, however, and she tried to block out Lilika's absence with these mundane ones. Her legs were sore from running from hours on end on a treadmill and her skin was red and raw where sensors had been stuck on her. Crossing her complaining legs, Kayta investigated a new development in her freakiness. It seemed that her nails were developing into a margay's sharp claws. Though they looked normal, the edges were sharp and the nail had hardened greatly.

Despite her efforts to block out the memories, they resurfaced. It had been a few weeks since that night, but the memories were clear. So hopeful, then so miserable, then so angry. Now she felt more helpless than ever. She would grow old and die in this tiny box and there was nothing she could do about it.

Or maybe there was something she could do.

Kayta was sure that to rely on the lock-pickers from last night to rescue her would be idiotic and futile. After raiding this lab once, why would they do it again? Also, she was sure that that "trip" was a signal. If they had heard someone coming, why hadn't the scientists arrived until the following morning? The only plausible explanation was that they had left her on purpose. So there was no hope in waiting for them to come back. She had to take matters into her own hands.

The next day dawned, or at least the lights flickered on. A scientist entered, also bringing along a pudgy man in a gray suit. "Morning Kayta," the scientist greeted her. "This is Mr. Layson. He'll be talking to you. He's a psychiatrist, so make sure you answer all his questions." Kayta ignored him until he opened the door of her cage. She slid out and crossed her arms, shrugging Layson's hand off her shoulder as he tried to steer her away. He set off and she followed him grudgingly, knowing that if she ran now the scientist would catch her with a drugged dart that they always carried with them.

They entered a room, as empty of personal objects as any room she had seen. However, she was overjoyed to see that the two chairs and single desk were backed by a curtained window. Kayta remained standing as Layson lowered his pudgy self into the second chair. The scientist stayed outside. Layson watched her for a moment, the spoke. "Kayta, I hear there was an escape in your lab room. Now you seem angry. Are you not happy that—that you remain in this place where you are fed and clothed?" It seemed that he had not originally planned to say that. And the sarcasm in his voice at that line clearly told Kayta that he did not agree with his words.

"No. I'm not."

"And why not?"

"I'm not free. And I should be."

"Kayta, how can you change this? It's better to appreciate what you have; don't wish to be abandoned in a harsh world that you do not understand."

Kayta snorted. "Nothing could be worse than here." Her eyes flitted about the room, only half her mind on the psychiatrist's words. Her attention settled on a round paperweight that rested idly on Layson's desk. A smile flickered across her lips.

"You'd be surprised," Layson was saying. Actually, it was the other way around.

Kayta grabbed the paperweight off the desk and smashed it into the glass window—how foolish had they been, putting her in here? Layson didn't even have a dart gun. The window cracked and easily broke away when Kayta slammed it again.

Layson watched with wide eyes.

Kayta leaped through the window with a margay's reflexes and sprinted away with complaining thighs. Behind her, she heard Layson shake himself from his reverie and call for the guards. By then, Kayta was well across the grass that separated the League buildings from the forest beyond.

Kayta could hardly repress a sigh of relief as she entered the shadows of the forest. Glancing back, she saw scientists, looking strange in their white lab coats, and guards heading her way. An instinct from her margay DNA commanded that she get up in the trees and she did so with ease. The girl spared one shocked glance at the hands with which she so easily climbed the tree before crossing to the next tree. Tree by tree she went more deeply into the forest and farther away from the place she had spent so many years.

Finally, she could no longer hear the League guards and scientists stomping along behind her. She let her feet dangle from an oak's shady branch as she surveyed the "harsh world" the psychiatrist had promised. To her it looked more like freedom.