This Little Pig 2
By Bill Kieffer
"Thank you for alerting me to Dr. Rooney's condition, Waldo." The Civet's eyes swept the hall as they walked briskly down the hall, even though they were in a secure area of the complex. "What's the latest on his condition?"
"They've just about ruled out physiological trauma on this end, General," the Canine in the lab coat told him. "That means it's either physical trauma to the golem or psychological trauma to Peter. We can't be certain if that trauma occurred last night when Pig Iron was disabled or earlier when a burning building fell on him eight days ago."
The Civet nodded, his wide eyes giving him a surprised look as he studied the black furred Wolf. He opened the door to his office, letting Waldo follow behind him past his empty secretary's desk. It was 5 am, too early for a woman her age to be out of bed. Once in his own office, he carefully locked the door behind Waldo. "We all noticed a change in his behavior during his debriefing."
"We all attributed that to seeing so many dead and twisted children. I mean, when the building collapsed, he was standing knee deep kiddie corpses."
The beige Fur nodded as he pulled on his uniform. "I understand from preliminary reports that there were children held on the oil rig Tarkus had taken."
"If there were, he doesn't remember a thing about them."
General Vogt checked his buttons in the mirror of his closet door. He nodded approvingly at the way his bronze fur sat on top of his head; military without being severe. "How much have you told him about his last mission?"
"Just enough to confuse him, I'm afraid." The Wolf dropped a folder on the General's desk. "I mentioned the oil rig and Tarkus and that I was pissed at him slightly for coming to the meeting as Pig Iron."
"We'll postpone the debriefing for three days." The general leaned over his desk and gave the report a casual grant. "Tell me, do you think he's ready to go back out?"
The wolf nodded and the Fossa couldn't hide his surprise from Waldo.
"You usually don't like him tied into the golem so soon after he's come out."
"It's true, I worry about the damage he's doing to his body." The large wolf met the eyes of the General. "His real body. In this case, however, the sooner we can get him interfaced with Pig Iron again, the better the chance of discovering what the real trauma was."
The General didn't break eye contact with the Wolf. "I'll step up procedures to retrieve the golem. In the meantime, I want you to increase Feral's training."
The Wolf blinked back, his ears dropping back in disappointment. "Peter really needs me, now, General. He expects me available full time..."
The General held his hand out, claws extended with the fingers splayed out. "I realize the commitments you have with Dr. Rooney are both professional and personal, but we do have a fully qualified medical staff available. And, not to be crude, but I'm sure you can still find time to pork him even with the most intensive training we can think up for Feral."
The Wolf growled low in his throat, but controlled himself. "Not to be blunt, General Vogt, but I don't work for you. I mean, I believe in Peter and what you are all doing here. I'll do whatever I have to do in an emergency, or to save lives, but when push comes to shove, my priorities lie with that Pig. So what makes you think I'm going to leave his side for more than a few minutes at a time when he's vulnerable and defenseless?"
The General indicated a seat and the Wolf ignored him as the Civet sat in his own s-shaped share designed for Mustelids' with thicker than average tails. Vogt looked up and seemed to think for a moment. "Witnesses say Tarkus captured Pig Iron before prior to the explosion. There's a chance the golem may have been compromised."
The Wolf seemed to deflate and he sat in the chair he'd been offered. "Damn. Damn Tarkus. Damn Peter. Damn me."
"Feral's the only one who can handle Pig Iron if the golem becomes a risk," Vogt said, not unkindly.
The Wolf snorted, "Yeah, well, damn you, too, General."
By Bill Kieffer
"Thank you for alerting me to Dr. Rooney's condition, Waldo." The Civet's eyes swept the hall as they walked briskly down the hall, even though they were in a secure area of the complex. "What's the latest on his condition?"
"They've just about ruled out physiological trauma on this end, General," the Canine in the lab coat told him. "That means it's either physical trauma to the golem or psychological trauma to Peter. We can't be certain if that trauma occurred last night when Pig Iron was disabled or earlier when a burning building fell on him eight days ago."
The Civet nodded, his wide eyes giving him a surprised look as he studied the black furred Wolf. He opened the door to his office, letting Waldo follow behind him past his empty secretary's desk. It was 5 am, too early for a woman her age to be out of bed. Once in his own office, he carefully locked the door behind Waldo. "We all noticed a change in his behavior during his debriefing."
"We all attributed that to seeing so many dead and twisted children. I mean, when the building collapsed, he was standing knee deep kiddie corpses."
The beige Fur nodded as he pulled on his uniform. "I understand from preliminary reports that there were children held on the oil rig Tarkus had taken."
"If there were, he doesn't remember a thing about them."
General Vogt checked his buttons in the mirror of his closet door. He nodded approvingly at the way his bronze fur sat on top of his head; military without being severe. "How much have you told him about his last mission?"
"Just enough to confuse him, I'm afraid." The Wolf dropped a folder on the General's desk. "I mentioned the oil rig and Tarkus and that I was pissed at him slightly for coming to the meeting as Pig Iron."
"We'll postpone the debriefing for three days." The general leaned over his desk and gave the report a casual grant. "Tell me, do you think he's ready to go back out?"
The wolf nodded and the Fossa couldn't hide his surprise from Waldo.
"You usually don't like him tied into the golem so soon after he's come out."
"It's true, I worry about the damage he's doing to his body." The large wolf met the eyes of the General. "His real body. In this case, however, the sooner we can get him interfaced with Pig Iron again, the better the chance of discovering what the real trauma was."
The General didn't break eye contact with the Wolf. "I'll step up procedures to retrieve the golem. In the meantime, I want you to increase Feral's training."
The Wolf blinked back, his ears dropping back in disappointment. "Peter really needs me, now, General. He expects me available full time..."
The General held his hand out, claws extended with the fingers splayed out. "I realize the commitments you have with Dr. Rooney are both professional and personal, but we do have a fully qualified medical staff available. And, not to be crude, but I'm sure you can still find time to pork him even with the most intensive training we can think up for Feral."
The Wolf growled low in his throat, but controlled himself. "Not to be blunt, General Vogt, but I don't work for you. I mean, I believe in Peter and what you are all doing here. I'll do whatever I have to do in an emergency, or to save lives, but when push comes to shove, my priorities lie with that Pig. So what makes you think I'm going to leave his side for more than a few minutes at a time when he's vulnerable and defenseless?"
The General indicated a seat and the Wolf ignored him as the Civet sat in his own s-shaped share designed for Mustelids' with thicker than average tails. Vogt looked up and seemed to think for a moment. "Witnesses say Tarkus captured Pig Iron before prior to the explosion. There's a chance the golem may have been compromised."
The Wolf seemed to deflate and he sat in the chair he'd been offered. "Damn. Damn Tarkus. Damn Peter. Damn me."
"Feral's the only one who can handle Pig Iron if the golem becomes a risk," Vogt said, not unkindly.
The Wolf snorted, "Yeah, well, damn you, too, General."