FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Runaway Chapter 6: Evaluation

Disclaimer: This story deals with adult themes, and themes that may not be suitable for anyone to read. You have been warned. Continuance to read this document, acknowledges that you are allowed to read this document in your place of orign, that you are of legal age to read it, and that you take responsibility for having read this document. The author is therefore in no way liable for any damages, in any way shape or form.

Evaluation

Time is a curious concept, being at times a constant and at others seeming completely variable. The old adage A watched pot never boils is an excellent example of this phenomenon. When one is performing a menial task they do not want to be doing, watching the clock for the time to be over, and the like; time seems to slow to a crawl where seconds become minutes in length. At the other end of the spectrum, time can seem to flow like the fast rapids of a river, flowing with speed that we have no chance to enjoy, to catch anything go by and when we least expect it, it is time to go home, to go to sleep, to end the day.

In my case, time had been spending its lazy time going from place to place, giving me no chance to do much as I watched over my back for potential pursuers, and at the same time, keeping me watching the clock as if my life was running out. Then it had landed in my hand, that piece of paper, that advertisement, which changed my life. And by the time I had signed the hundred page document presented me, I had crested the hump of the roller-coaster, and was speeding down, through the loop and the corkscrew to follow. As the passage through hyperspace modified my dream it was too true. Somehow I could sense that things were about to take a turn back to the launch point, and time would creep by again.

The slip out from hyperspace back into normal space woke me from the dream, it seemed too short on one hand, but that is how things work. I should explain. Passing through hyperspace requires entering another dimension, I couldn't tell you whether it was a higher or lower one; but that difference itself causes the hallucinations and odd dreams. Only the most steadfast of a mind can endure the travel for a long period of time, and even then periods measured in hours is the scale they can work on. For average passengers and crew, it's a factor of minutes, and so for safety the jump-points are set so that the longest time inside hyperspace is a meager fifteen minutes. The downside is that while travel is fast, there are often long periods in the travel where one has to move from one jump point to another to re-initiate the jump, not to mention waiting for the drives to spin down and spool back up.

In this case we were slowly coursing through a nearly empty solar system around a cool white dwarf star. There were a few mining colonies in artificial habitats about the system slowly drilling and harvesting the asteroids and planetoids of the system for whatever valuables could be found. The flight log on the display showed we would be traveling at sub-light for nearly twelve hours before we would be through the system and at the next jump point. Then we would have to wait an hour for the ion engines to cool down, and the hyperspace engines to spool up. Just as I shut down the display, the com blinked to life and I had a message requesting that I meet with the ship's councilor and where to go.

I got ready for the day, showering, brushing my fur, and putting on the standard uniform given me before heading down the labyrinthine corridors. It took me a while as I took several wrong turns before arriving at the sickbay. Across the hall and barely half a door down was my destination. I paused and looked through the glass doored arch of sickbay, hoping to see my doctor friend again before moving on and standing before the door. I did not know what to expect and so I stood there for a moment. As I reached out to touch the communication panel to signal my arrival, the door opened and a calm light voice beckoned me in.

The room was smaller than my quarters, barely enough room to hold the desk, let alone the two chairs and now two people inside. Sitting at the far side of the desk was who I assumed to be the councilor. I almost could not determine her species in the dimly lit room, firstly thinking she to be a flying squirrel, but then realized she was a sugar glider. The wide dark eyes loomed over me over half-moon frames and she had a smile that would melt icebergs. She had that childlike look of playfulness to her, soft and inquisitive. Combine it with the mindset for psychology and it was obvious she embodied a councilor perfectly. She leaned forward to get a better look at me while I took the other seat feeling suddenly shy. She smiled and said, I'm Mellany, and I'm sure you've guessed that I'm the ship's psychologist.

I sat there, looking at her for more than a moment, expecting her to continue. She had a look as if she was pausing waiting for me to ask some inevitable question then continued. I do not know why I reacted like a deer stuck in head lights, but the moment seemed far too long before I nodded.

She seemed to wait again. I was not sure whether she was doing it to calm me or in analyzing every move I was making. Either way it had a somewhat unnerving sensation. She smiled suddenly and sat back in her chair, look at me with her big eyes and almost giggled. Most people who are requested to see me have a sense of dread, and handle themselves differently than they normally would. In your case, I see that you're not afraid, nor apprehensive. You also don't seem to have that sense of wonder as to why you would be here. She watched me, and this time I was certain she was analyzing my reaction. The way she had said everything made me relax as I realized myself that it was true. I figured that this was coming after my changes to make sure I was well adjusted.

I guess with everything that has gone on, I said calmly, relaxing into the soft chair a little, that it is a bit obvious that after having been genetically altered to have some kind of mental evaluation. That and considering my life, and how it has changed, why should I worry?

This time she chuckled slightly, and her smile widened. Your file said you were calm headed and intelligent, there's little doubt of that. She moved some papers around on her desk, clearing some room before pulling up a screen to take notes on with her handwriting tablet. The tablet looked like one of those legal pads that executives would carry around and jot notes on, except that hers was electronic. The stylus would write on the touch sensitive surface and presumably was programmed to recognize whatever handwriting or shorthand she preferred to use. She looked at me again, seeing my relaxed and patient form before continuing. Before we begin, I should inform you that I have a P-4 rating and that I will be using such abilities during this session. Everything is, of course, confidential unless information is necessary to be passed along to others. Shall we continue?

I had to blink at her words, a P-4 rating meant she had psionic abilities of a strength of four out of ten. Psions were rare in the universe and no amount of genetic engineering could create them in people. You had to be born with at least a latent talent, even if never developed, to eventually have a P rating. A P of zero would mean a latent talent, one that never surfaced or developed, but could be brought out with careful engineering or training. Any engineering to increase ones P-rating was just as likely to fail as succeed. Any higher rating and the modifications were more likely to destroy that ability rather than augment it, so it was rarely tried, and only through years of training could the P rating of a person be increased. Those with near ten for their rating were likely born with that rating rather than grown it through training or engineering from level zero.

I do not think it would have mattered what she told me, but it did not surprise me in the least that she had a P-rating, such a skill would augment any psychologist's abilities. I merely nodded, and for a moment thought I felt a bit of pressure, much like the beginnings of a headache before it disappeared. She seemed to have a frown on her face as she hopped up onto the desk, sitting legs dangling off the edge. You know. she said. This would go easier if you didn't have a mental wall up. You probably don't know you have one, but it's there. Considering you are listed as having a latent ability, and they did give you the genetic modification for that as well it's at least good to know you still are a latent, if not improved. The best thing to do is relax, be at peace and trust me. That should be enough to let me sense what I need for this. She watched me with her calm, and for the first time, almost dispassionate eyes, before smiling to help comfort me.

My mind buzzed again as she slowly started to probe, but more from the swimming of my thoughts. I really started to wonder just how much of a genetic modification I received. Sure, I was changed from human to skunk-kin. I knew I had a cast iron stomach now and liked some of the most alien foods. My shyness had been reversed to a quite open personality. I did not worry about it much, but the more I learned, piecemeal as it was, the more I wanted to just know and get on with things. The constant 'surprises' were starting to wear on me. I think she sensed my thoughts, my troubled mind; but she made no mention of it. She sat there, as cute as a button, waiting for me to calm myself and continue. All in good time, was what I thought to myself in a poor attempt to quell the inquisitive nature inside me.

Somehow it was enough, and I started to relax. I could feel her mind connecting, if like a soft breeze and the pressure soon shed itself for a strange sensation. The sensation of her mind examining my own was not unpleasant, though I wondered why I felt much at all. It had the odd sensation of being coddled, held in someone's arms lovingly. Yet it was not a physical sensation. It was also like the way you felt good by a thought, such as being out in the deep cold of winter and thinking about how when you get home a nice hot fire and a warm mug of cocoa is waiting for you. Just like such a thought, it was fleeting enough that it soon disappeared. The whole experience lasted less than a second and did not linger about.

I felt slightly dazed and did not notice her jotting notes down with almost a fury. How much she learned from the brief contact I was not certain I would ever know. A part of me did not even want to know. It seemed to take her quite some time to write, but I think it was time continuing to play tricks on my mind.

It seems you'll be needing some more training when you get to the station. You definitely have had an increase in your psionic abilities, and will need to learn them. In fact, I learned almost everything I needed in the brief connection of minds. She did not pause in her writing one bit while she spoke. She said nothing else as she finished whatever dossier she seemed to be writing about me, before looking back up and smiling, setting the tablet aside for the moment. Yes, not much left to write at all. So the rest of our meeting will be me letting you know some details. I wish I could tell you everything, but there is a lot of tight security regarding where you will be working, and you won't find out everything until you arrive safely. I wish I could tell you, for instance, the entirety of your genetic re-sequencing, but I can't. Instead, I need to discuss your exact job.

It seems, with all you are capable of, that you're going to have a few jobs. Consider it a sort of rotation. At first, most of your time will be spent studying, some of which you'll be doing on the next leg of your trip when we hand you off to a smaller freighter that is heading to the station. It's been requested that you study three languages, only one is from earth origin, and that one is Japanese. The other two it's amazing they want you to try, as they're considered the most difficult ones for any 'Earther' to learn. You'll also spend some time studying procedures and protocols until your superiors are satisfied you can qualify for a bit of a security boost.

Your talents for art and sketching will be put to good use in due time, once you've achieved the necessary security rating, by creating technical sketches of some of the products, and possibly some advertisement material for those products as well. Neither should take up much of your time. You are smart enough that you might be asked to fulfill some lab assistant duties. Some time will also be spent on station maintenance, and other more mundane tasks. You have such a wide range of aptitudes that should you desire, for example, you could cook for the other personnel.

The swimming sensation started to return as my mind fired back into overdrive. It seemed that there was a lot I would be asked to do, eventually, but what would I do at the beginning, just study? While part of me guessed that it made some sort of sense, another part of me was getting the nagging suspicion that she was not telling me everything. I looked into her eyes and watched deeply with every word she said, not realizing that my gaze was piercing enough for her to pick up on my thoughts again, and I was sure she had no need to use her telepathy. She sighed, and I knew that I was caught.

I guess I don't know a good way of telling you in full detail what's expected of you. The primary duties they're grooming you for, is to eventually be a secretary of sorts. Be the front person that acts as liaison to visitors from off worlds. You're expected to not just learn the language, but the customs and make them quite comfortable. They have already observed your sexual openness, and I assure you it was not intentional, but a happy mistake. They know that some of the alien races out there have needs and desires that are difficult to acquiesce to, and so they've tried to give you the physique so you might handle such needs. In short, they'd ask you to be willing to be a courtesan if the needs arise, for both the small quantity of personnel as well as visitors. She seemed to bite her lip when she was done, as if reading herself for my attack.

It took me a while to process this information. In a sense, I felt as if I had no choice. The contract I signed, was almost complete enough to make me the corporation's slave. Could I refuse if I wanted? Did I want to? I slunk back into the chair and relaxed but a little as I let my mind simmer over the information. I did not want it to run circles - and eventually amok - by not taking my time. They wanted me to study other languages. That I had no problem with, I had already started studying Japanese after trying Latin in secondary school; and found I had an aptitude for it. Check, my mind thought as I knew there was no problem with that. They wanted me to study protocol and procedure. Again, check. How could I work for anyone without knowing what they needed, what was on and off limits and the like. Mundane tasks and maintenance. That sounded like they didn't have a dedicated janitorial staff and expected everyone to pitch in. I had no problem with that as long as I was not going to become the sole janitor, check.

Courtesan, it sounded nice, but I knew it was basically a way of saying a common bed partner. An upper-class version of a whore. I never expected to become that, or be asked to become that. It made me think, to say the least. Unfortunately what started springing to mind were simpler, almost instinctual and bestial thoughts of wanton sex. I could sense that if I did not reign in the thoughts that I would dampen my suit from arousal. I tried to put it out of my mind, and stay focused on the simple facts that I had opened up so completely to the thought of sex. I had uncorked my repressed nature like a flood pushes open a dam, and as I thought back on the last couple days, I realized that it did not bother me. I had enjoyed every night, every passion of it. I further realized that there was nothing wrong with it, or myself. Sex was fun and enjoyable. I almost chuckled as I thought of other labels that might eventually be attributed to me if things went far enough.

I knew in the end that I did not have much choice in the matter, but I also recalled that while I might be a slave not in so many words that I had some choice in the matter. I had been told that I would be asked to do many things, things I might like and those I might not like, but that the company would not force me to do things I truly did not want to. At the same time, they knew me perhaps better than I knew myself. It is unlikely they would ask me anything I was not capable or willing to do.

In the end, I nodded, and a wry smile crossed my face as the bestial desires seeped passed my control a little, giving me little images of what alien races sexual organs and desires might be like. I had to focus and redouble my efforts to block the eager and willing side of my sexual nature. By the time I stopped, opened my eyes, and looked at the glider across from me. She had a somewhat shocked expression, a cross between bemusement and fear, as if expecting me to lash out across the room at her at the mere suggestion. I took a deep breath again, and calmed myself, hoping I had not made myself too damp with the intruding erotic thoughts.

I tried to smile, and was not sure whether she had been reading my mind the whole time or not. She had warned me that such abilities would be at work, after all. The more I watched her gaze, the more panic started to sink in, she must have read my mind. Her hand kept scribbling in what must have been some kind of shorthand, staying in one spot, odd character after character.

And then I blinked, the room seemed to go dark and a split second later the lights came back on. I blinked again, clearing the afterimage, to see her leaning back in her chair, a friendly smile across her face. "Someone with time could write a book just about a mind like yours. I think I will have to add to your learning schedule, as you start to" she paused, as if searching for the correct word to use in the situation, "leak thoughts when you get flustered. While most people would not pick up on any of it, at least typically for a P-0 latent, you leak emotion easilly, and when you leak emotions that coincide with your pheremone release... Well let's just say that you need to reel it in, or you might be on a confusing side of rape."

I was not sure I liked the words she chose, but it was obvious - to a point - that she was simply trying to drive it home. "Rape," she said. I could never imagine myself willingly raping anyone, but then again, would I just be subconsciously causing a situation of mind alteration? Like slipping someone a drug in their drink to make them want to have an interesting night of 'fun'? If I really had been awakened, I knew I needed it to be in check. "I hate to use a cliche, but you're the doctor."

She laughed at my faux pas, "I don't think you will have much to worry. At least during your flight. The freighter you will be on, is a slow cargo ship. Small crew, limited space. You are likely to see not much more than your quarters, the mess, and the sick bay. But that does not mean you won't have opportunities to enjoy yourself." She made some more arcane gestures over her document pad. "Yes, I think that wraps things up. You'll find a full schedule for training on file waiting for you. Some added equipment will be included with your personal belongings, and brought to your room. Do what you can." She looked at her screen and frowned. "I didn't realize we had talked so long. You'd best hurry back to your cabin and gather your things. It looks like there's only a little time before we dock with the transport."