Xolo 4

The three heroes descended with great showmanship on the well-lit street in front of the Emergency Entrance of Hospital Vera Cruz. It was almost midnight, their trip from Mexico City taking nearly four hours. Trisha was exhausted with what she wanted to call Jet-Lag, but the truth was she was still in the same time zone. The children had been moved from the the little clinic belonging to the Mexican Coast Guard where they'd been first been brought ashore when they'd been rescued.

Pig-Fly had a contact here, although it was hardly needed. Newsmen applauded and snapped photographs as he walked in, giving them no more than a nod, and that they ate up. "We are here on a secret mission, my friends," he announced, his trotters clicking on the faux-marble floor. He'd be on the cover of six of the seven papers the next day.

The seventh paper was a weekly. Trisha, had she stuck around, would have been appalled to see her picture on the front page, touting a recipe that supposedly pleased Pig-Fly very much. Nōchtli's back story, at least, had been broadened by the visit.

Lord Quetzalcoatl was almost uniformly ignored by the press. Trisha couldn't figure it out, but ignored it. She'd ask later; if she didn't sleep all the way back to her hotel room.

Pig-Fly's contact greeted them in front of the press, ignoring them if they weren't there. Dr. Anaranjada was a Chuckwalla, a Rept with dark skin and a large tall muzzle that made his whole head look something like a log. His tail, thicker than both his legs together shot out nearly vertically behind him for a yard, made Trisha wonder how he maneuvered in tight spaces.

In the elevator, his tail just rolled up between his knees and he stood taller. His tail was almost a comedic obscene bulge in the front of his lab coat down to his knees. Neither Pig-Fly nor Lord Quetzalcoatl made the slightest face, so she determined to keep her thoughts to herself.

In the sub basement, in a room usually reserved for emergency triage and over flow from the morgue, a dozen small beds sat with a small blanket covered body on each. Each bed also doubled as a warming table, but not a single one was on. Dr. Anaranjada stopped them from entering, and took a moment to unplug a heated cloak from the wall and drape it over his shoulder.

"We are keeping this room cold to keep the children in a medically induced torpor," he said in Spanish, softly, producing the sound as an Avi would from his throat, Chuckwalla lips being what they were. "They were not just terrorfied... they became violent and incoherent as they were brought aware. They tried to escape and hurt themselves. They had planned to bring them out of torpor when their families were onsite... the re-imprinting process can help young reptiles overcome trauma."

They all nodded, although Trisha knew this theory was hotly debated in some circles. In the states, most doctors seemed to think this was a an acceptable therapy on a case by case basis only, and without guarantees.

Pig -Fly stated the obvious, "Except no parents have stepped forward."

"Oh, no, many, many people have stepped forward, hoping these... one of these children were theirs... but no, no, none of these children could be theirs. They were all the wrong species."

"What species are the children, Doctor?" Trisha asked in perfect television Spanish. She thought she knew the answer, but she was surprised.

"We do not know, Nōchtli," The doctor exhaled. "We are hoping, and this is why I've been allowed to bring you here, that you can perhaps name the species. They seem to be broodmates. They very closely resemble each other, varying little in weight or height. Only in the fold of skins or the iris do they differ... and those differences are extremely minor. Extremely."

They entered the chilled room and they walked past several rows of children. The faces were identical; but then Trisha thought most Repts looked alike, varying only by the species. She certainly didn't recognize the species, either. At the far end of the room, where they could not be seen easily from the door, the doctor stopped and in a low voice asked that every speak in a low voice. "The children can hear you," He said, barely opening his mouth, his tongue moving with a birdlike flutter as the words came out. "They may not remember... but they might. We are in very unfamiliar circumstances."

He pulled the blanket back gently and all eyes immediately and unexpectedly went to the boys crotch.

Trisha asked, barely remembering to speak in Spanish, "What's wrong with his cloaca?"

"They don't have cloacas." The doctor said quietly and calmly. "Their sexual organs are external... and connected to their urinary system... there's no sign of surgery of any sort."

"Those belong to a Simian," Lord Queztlcoal said in perfect Spanish. The voice belonged to Queztling. "The foreskin is distinctive."

The doctor nodded. Pig-Fly and Trisha looked at him with a question, but he just shrugged, a gesture especially impressive on his enlarged, muscular form.

"He's quite correct," the doctor said, "By morphology alone, it appears to belong to an ape of some sort. There are other cryptic features present."

He moved the blanket away from the boy's feet. Two dark brown trotters appeared where his toes should have been. "Porcine." He announced. "And these ankles resemble canine or lupine joints while the bones and muscles between them are hard to identify." The doctor began pointing out the myriad oddities of the dormant child working from the feet up. Under the green skin of a reptile, the structures resembled a hodgepodge of mammalian bones and organs.

"He has nipples...?" Pig-Fly asked, startled.

"Do not ask me why, but yes," The Chuckwalla said. "We are trying not to look at these children as some sort of Chimera, but if you haven't seen the likes before, then the Government might brand them as Chimera Constructs and permanently take possession of them."

The three heroes were silent. The Trisha said, "Doctor, would you say each body carries something from Gecko, Ape, Pig, Fox, Rabbit, Dog, Cat, Gull, and Otter."

"Yes," the Doctor said, his face focusing on hers. He looked thirsty.

Trisha kept her enthusiasm in check for a moment. She continued, "Are they any other features the children have that would belong to any species."

"Ignoring size disparities, no." Dr. Anaranjada said. "What do you know... or, what do you suspect about these children? If they are aliens, I really would like to know."

"I think I know what she suspects, Doctor, but I am not sure how to prove it." Pig-Fly said, looking at the half-poodle girl disguised in his country's flag.

"Doctor," Trisha leaned forward, half inspecting the little green boy or the table and half leaning closer to the doctor to whisper. "Do any of these children have a mark, like a tattoo, on the back of their neck."

"Yes," he checked the clipboard, and then moved over to another bed three rows over. "This boy, #8."

"Because there's an eight ball on his neck?"

"Yes," the Chuckwalla's chest inflated with excitement. "Do you know who these boys are?"

"Yes," Trisha said.

Lord Quetzalcoatl realized it belatedly, and blurted it out in his excitement. "The missing Oilers!"

"What?" The doctor's mouth hung open.

"Tarkis took all the men on the platform and mixed them together." Trisha said, appalled. "This is the man's twisted idea of what Harmony should look like."

"That's impossible!"

"You heard about the little girls in Califurnia yesterday, haven't you, Doctor ? I thought the same thing might have happened here, but in that case those girls had switched with different reptiles. No Chimeras."

"What girls?" The men all asked at once.

"Nevermind, we need to wake all these victims up one at a time. They aren't 100% reptile... we have no idea what harm induced torpor might be doing to them."

"But they were very violent..." the Doctor began.

"I will calm them," Lord Quetzalcoatl said, his voice different, echoeing, deeper. "I am the God of Wind and Change, and their forms greatly please me." He raised his arms, the rainbow of feathers he wore became sheets of jade and gold, all tinged with blood. The sheets of #8 crinkled as the room filled with static.

"Don't let him summon lightning here, Quezt!" Pig-Fly had the audacity to yell at the God of Wind. "It'll have to pass thru seven stories before it gets here! People will die!"

Trisha pulled the doctor away. Just to be safe.

"Quezt!" The tall hero yelled out as the room filled with wind. The tall dog's eyes burned with fire and then the bed sheets under the boy snapped out. The top of the sheet crinkled with static, leaving a distinctive wing like patten while the bottom twisted out into a tube. The wings pulled him upright until he was an inch floating over the warming table.

The boy was becoming a Queztling! Trisha remembered the burned images in her notebook and began to wonder if this was a good idea.

"What is your name, child?" The dog possessed by Quetzalcoatl demanded.

"I... I am Xaxier Truffle..."

"Xaxier, a man has done a terrible thing to you, but I tell you not to despair, do not cry for you are beautiful to me. Give me all of your anger and hatred and I will seek out and punish those responsible. I... or my friends here... will serve justice for you. You are reborn, Xaxier, and you will start afresh, if you are willing... ?"

"I am..."

"Good,"

The sheets and magic feel away, leaving the boy standing naked on the warming table. An almost invisible Queztling merged into the symbol on Lord Quetzalcoatl's chest.

"I'm... cold," the boy said and Pig-Fly lifted him off the table.

"Lets get you some clothes," Pig-Fly said and carried him out into the hall.

Trisha wondered how long Xaxier would be willing to be treated like a child. Instead she asked, "You up to doing that 11 more times?"

"It would be easier to do this all at once, but he might over-awe some of them." The hero whispered to her, "I don't want to accidentally recruit an army of Chimeras."

"Or worshipers." Trisha cautioned him.

"Please don't give him ideas." the Xolo said in English, a smile in his voice.