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Come What May

****/n-liERROR**** ****/:EXTERNAL US*((^*ER DETE(RUPTION IN DATA ST)ECTED**** ****/:WARN(ERGENCY PURGE)ING**** ****/:SYS(SYTEMSYTEMSYSTEMthewheelturnsSYSTEMSYSTEM**** ****/:SYSTEM OVERBURDENED**** ****/:WHEEL INTEthewheelturnsGRITY UNSTABLE**** ****/:MASTER CONSOLE(RROR RU76%:;PTION STACK)**** ****/:USER CONFLICT... USER CONFLICT...JACKANDJILLWENTUPTHEHILL**** ****/:CONSULT ADMINISTRA(ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha)**** ****/:WARNINGthewheelturns**** ****/:SYSTEM OVERBURDENED****

****/y#n-line86%****

Detective Lance Greenfield prided himself on immaculate dress and professional attire. As he drove to the Slater residence, he was decidedly disheveled. Under most other circumstances his loose tie, and un-tucked shirt would be inexcusable. Even so, he was driving like a bat out of hell to the address he had for the young Jill.

It was late, closing in on midnight. Lance had gone in after hours to his station and scoured all the records he could find. The further he dug, the grosser the errors he noticed. Reports filed on persons who no longer existed. Birth and death certificates utterly in disarray through the local and state systems. Most grating was the lack of information about his family. The tiger looked high and low, but all he found was residence information for his in-laws. A few subtle questions around the precinct only deepened his concern as a few of his fellow officers got blank, almost pained looks as he tried to ask if they knew Annabelle Greenfield.

Even Lance had to struggle sometimes. It was as though there was a great force, like wind or water trying to erode away his own memories. His mind was against the grindstone, and it took everything in Greenfield to resist the pull. Even as his will would begin to tire, he found it easier and easier to resist the drag. When things truly became a wear, Lance simply pulled the picture out of his wallet that had miraculously survived whatever horror had transpired. The thick paper and its ink told Lance that he was not crazy, that it was not just some dream. That something terrible had happened.

And he knew just where to start looking for answers.

****

"Jill, hun, could you get that?" Missus Slater called from the kitchen.

Jill had been on her way downstairs, following the sound of sizzling and the scent of frying chicken when the doorbell began ringing furiously.

"Got it, mom." Jill responded with irritation, wondering if Victor had made a breakthrough and not bothered to call her first. In the time it took her to walk to the door the bell rang three more times. "I'm comin' I'm comin'." She yelled through the wood. Even in her haste to quell the annoying solicitor, the girl still checked through the peephole. Initial surprise turned to suspicion as she looked upon Lance's grim visage through the looking glass.

Even so, she opened the door with a convincing smile.

"Detective Greenfield, how may I help you?"

Lance's jaw tightened visibly, contorting his frown into a grimace. Jill felt her own fake smile droop. He opened and closed his mouth twice, glancing behind her into the house, looking like a man hounded by demons.

"Can we... talk outside."

"Who is it, Jill?" Slater senior peered around the door to the kitchen.

"It's Mister Greenfield. He's a friend of mine."

Lance confirmed it with a smile and a nod. Slater senior took it as sufficient and went back to cooking. Jill turned back to the tiger.

"You're not here to..." She stopped at 'arrest me' and made do with, "question me?"

"No, I just want to talk about... what we were discussing. The other thing."

Jill nodded, having felt the sizable shift earlier. The lizard girl had suffered no discernible alteration, but her sensitivity to the changes in events was becoming more acute. Even though the young woman was willing to trust the detective so far as walking out to his car, parked at the curb, she still kept a finger surreptitiously on the pommel of a blade. If Jill was the smoking type, then would be the moment she would be lighting up. She was not though, and sufficed with leaning on her mailbox.

For his part, Lance was tempted to grab hold of the little bitch's shoulders and shake her until her neck snapped.

Realizing what he had just thought, the detective shook his head to clear the strange thoughts. That was not him. He abided strictly to the code of conduct expected by officers of the law. He could not imagine a world where a member of the police force would conduct themselves...

Well... maybe he could after all.

"What do you know about all this? What's happened? You say you know what's going on and I don't. I have no idea what's going on. So please, Miss Slater, enlighten me." Although he tried, it was difficult to keep his foreign anger in check.

[i]Well, at least he's straight to the point.[/i]

"I'll be straight with you, detective. Someone dreamed up a machine that changes the world. No, I don't know how it works, just the morons that made it used it for themselves and fucked the rest of us." She looked the detective up and down, measuring his current appearance to the last time she had seen him. "I felt the last shift. What changed for you?"

Lance Greenfield struggled to contain himself, restrain his rage, but the best he could do was redirect it. He turned and smashed his fists down into the roof of his car, leaving two messy dents. Jill grabbed the hilt of a knife with her left as she watched the shaking tiger, not sure what to make of his outburst.

"What you said... what you warned me about... why? Why? Why? Why?" He leaned his head against the side window of his vehicle, muttering to himself.

"When our loved ones disappear and we don't even know they're gone. Yeah. I remember." She considered the distressed man and thought better than to ask. "Your son... the one that hasn't been born yet... His name was going to be Chance. I'm very sorry."

Lance looked up sharply and Jill was unable to look him in the eye.

"How could you... You know? You know I'm not crazy." Slater glanced at him and returned to staring at nothing.

"No, detective, you're not crazy. I can... see them in your fate. It's like how I changed the pen and the table. If a thread is strong enough, I can see what's in it."

Ambivalence struck the older male hard. On one hand, his family was real, on the other, they were [i]really[/i] gone.

"If you want to see your family again detective, you're going to help me and my friend figure out who's been pulling the strings and..." Jill turned her head sharply, one of her ears twitching. Lance was about to ask what was wrong when he heard it too.

The tinkle of broken glass and a shout reached their ears.

Slater had the quickness of youth on her side and tore through the door first. In no less than five steps she had traversed the hardwood floor of the front room to the kitchen. A scaly of unknown species, covered head to toe in black, concealing clothing held Jill's mother from behind. The attacker, even with the element of surprise was struggling to get the elder Slater into a controlling hold. His masked face looked up just in time to see Jill's open palm rocketing towards his muzzle. Soft bone and cartilage collapsed under her strike as the invader's snout crumpled.

With his grip practically nonexistent, Miss Slater broke free and fled out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Bare milliseconds after her mother was clear, the young lizard girl started stabbing the culprit with the one knife she had one her person. She tried to keep it casual around the house seeing as her personal collection was within such easy reach, but one was sufficient. Eyes blinded in pain from a broken nose, the invader could only put up his hands in a futile attempt to ward away the blows. Jill's mind was not on fancy blade work so she simply straight-armed the steel into her target's midsection a few times. Just as quickly she retreated to let the fur fall with punctured lungs and a perforated diaphragm.

So focused she had been on the one attacking her mother, Jill did not notice the other felon before he was right on top of her. The young woman was still quick enough to meet his fist with steel, wedging the blade between knuckle and sticking it into splintering bone. Then, just as she saw the third out of the corner of her eye, four quick gunshots barked incredibly loudly and both of the invaders dropped.

A quartet of brass casings tumbled onto the lustrous hardwood in a delicate ballistic ballet. Lance Greenfield lowered his police issue Beretta.

Another masked home invader tackled Lance and bore him to the ground. The detective's gun was knocked from his grasp and went sliding across the hard floor. The two grappled, each throwing furious blows, but the attacker ended up on top. Desperate hands closed around Lance's throat and began choking the life out of him.

Jill needed a weapon ten seconds ago. Looking around frantically, she found a thread underneath the kitchen table and yanked.

****/n-8&^line****

The violence-inclined young woman found a firm grip on the firm handle and brought a black tomahawk into the light. Fourteen inches from butt to head, it had a light fiberglass handle. Not what she might have picked for the situation, but it would do. Jill cocked the weapon back and let go with a strong throw.

Although she was not as well-practiced with throwing hatchets as knives, she was still a good shot. The steel tomahawk sailed neatly through the air. The head embedded itself several inches into the assailant's skull with a heavy thwack. Jill would not have tried for the back of the head with a simple knife. The heavier weapon allowed greater penetration through bone and gave the chance to achieve the kill shot. He went completely limp atop the tiger. Lance used the opening to kick the masked fur off of himself and quickly shuffled over to retrieve his gun.

Silence descended on the house for a moment.

Yet another attacker came around the corner. But this one was armed, pointing a pistol at the prone detective.

"Drop it." He commanded. Both Jill and Lance had a second to consider their options before a thunderous boom resounded through the suburban homestead. The last attacker practically flew backwards, a fine blood mist appearing briefly in the air before the lifeless body fell with a thud.

On the second story of the stairwell was Jill's mother, peering down the smoking barrel of a twelve gauge shotgun.

"Jill, sweetie, you okay? Mister Greenfield?" The matronly lizard called down.

"Fine, mom. Thanks." Jill walked over to Lance and helped the tiger back to his feet. The officer looked once to Jill, then to her mother, then to the attacker still with an axe handle sticking out of his masked head who, seconds before had been throttling him.

"You're a frightening girl, miss Slater." Greenfield paused in thought. "You killed those boys, didn't you?" It was less a question and more of a statement of fact.

"Of course not, detective. The person or fur who killed those rapists was obviously someone with an axe to grind." She yanked the tomahawk out of bone with a meaty, sucking sound. "Clearly that's not me." Jill stated without a hint of irony in her voice. "Fuckers chose the wrong house to rob."

"This wasn't a random attack. Someone knows that you know." Lance stated.

Revelation hit Jill like a punch in the gut.

"Oh, god. That means they must be after Victor too..."

Then she started to feel a very ominous pull. There was a shift coming. A big one too.

"Detective... brace yourself. Something's coming and I can't tell what. No matter what you do, find me. Okay? You have to find me." Jill frantically pleaded. She made sure Lance understood before...

****/n-lineUzrConfliiiii****

... The inside of Jill's house was replaced with a clifftop view.

The lizard girl was standing right near the edge of a good forty foot drop and backed away warily.

"Fuuuuuckiiiiing shit." She said.

Looking out over the edge it was easy to figure out where she was. Even from where she stood, the thumping beat of a late-night rave boomed out from the quarry. She could see the jumping bodies, silhouetted in headlights and flashing strobe from the parking garage. Jill had a good view of things and took a moment to ensure her bearings were straight before making her next move.

"Oh no, not again." She said with a huff, for once again, she was in a swimsuit. This time, it was a skimpy black one-piece and her blades were strapped to her thighs. Because of the color, it actually gave the illusion she was not wearing anything at all. "Fuckin' shit." Jill muttered with a worried claw through her hair.

Then through the dust, the flashing lights, and all the writhing bodies, the young woman spied a strange happening.

Four riot vans topped with water cannons tore down the dirt road and spread out. On bulletproof tires, several police cruisers followed. Even with their lights and sirens, the sound were drowned by the ear-drum smashing music, lending only their silent flash. The armored vans spread out in a line and deployed their cargo of policeman clad in riot gear. They formed up in a line with their shields locked and the vans at their backs. The cruisers deployed around the periphery, covering the flanks. Paddy wagons brought up the rear. The major in charge of the operation stuck his head out of his command vehicle and spoke through the speakers with enough volume to be heard over the music.

"Attention: All persons present are under arrest for possession of controlled substances, intent to sell, civil disobedience, and violation of curfew. Other crimes will be determined on a case by case basis. You will all lay on the ground with your hands on your head. Anyone who complies will receive fair prosecution. Failure to comply will result in the use of force. You have twenty seconds to comply."

For Slater, this made no sense. The police were known to show up at the quarry every now and then just to bust things up. But never like this. Never with the force of major precinct behind them. Not with riot vans and serious gear.

Then things went from bad to worse when none of the youths showed any sign of obeying. Indeed, the declaration seemed to send a jolt through the crowd. Most of the dancers and spectators formed into a mob, shouting insults and making obscene gestures at the encroaching line of officers. A few around the edges tried to run but were quickly scooped up and incapacitated by the flanking officers. A few even began throwing rocks, empty bottles, or any other handy projectile at the police.

"Zero." The officer in charge stated simply. At his word, assorted public service member drew their sidearms or pumped riot guns. Muzzle flashes and blasts of gunpowder briefly obscured the line of metal shields as a fusillade of rubber bullets fell indiscriminately into the crowd. Dozens of bodies dropped like sandbags as nine millimeter and rubber pellet shot slashed through the front ranks of disgruntled young adults. As the front line of the police began moving forward they drew clubs and tasers, the ones with clubs beating the front of their shields in rhythm to distract and disorient.

From the back, the armored vans opened up with their cannons, throwing pressurized water along the sides of the wavering crowd. The cannons hemmed the young boys and girls in to keep the group from scattering too far. By that time a few cruisers had gotten all the way around behind the group and the young delinquents were surrounded. Even with most subdued, the closing riot police showed no mercy, cracking heads and sweeping legs with their batons. More than one youth was body slammed wholesale by thick metal shields. Tasers and stun guns instantly dropped anyone who was not already on the ground.

Things were going from bad to worse and Jill's window for locating detective Lance was closing. He was her best bet for getting to Victor in time. If there were persons after her, there was definitely someone after Wright. Every time a big shift happened, Jill's understanding of the threads and the influence of the shifts on them deepened. It was almost like finally seeing something thought to be flat in true three dimensions for the first time. With perspective, a keen eye, and sharp perception, Slater was able to determine that Greenfield was nearby. Likely, he was down there in the thick of things.

Knowing that her time was short, Jill had to find Greenfield quickly.

The lizard girl looked around for the path down from the quarry cliff and saw something else. Sitting under a tree looked to be someone sleeping, propped up against the young maple. The fur's head was turned away, but Jill recognized the white mouse.

"Sky? Sky, is that you? What are you doing here?" It was undoubtedly Sky. Jill approached and was reaching towards the mouse's shoulder when a shout cut through the bedlam from across the lake.

"Hey! Don' yous touch her. Who're you?" Of all the people Jill expected to see atop that cliff late at night, Sky and Kristy were the last on her list. But the brown bat, pink hair and all was the one warning her away from Sky's limp body. Jill recoiled from her bloodshot eyes and slurred speech. Looking down at the seemingly sleeping Sky, she saw for the first time what the mouse was wearing and the needle marks on the inside of her left arm.

"Kristy... Kristy, it's me... Don't you recognize me?" Jill implored. She already knew what the response would be. Knew it in her heart. Even though she knew it would simply hammer home the truth, she asked all the same.

"Fffuck off, man. Don' know you. Leave my girl alone." The bat lurched as she leaned down to try and scoop up the catatonic Sky. Kristy struggled and eventually managed before casting one more baleful glare at Jill. She stumbled away into the dark, away from the police and their lights and Jill with her pain.

As strange as it was, something told Jill that her one chance at perhaps a peaceful life was walking away. With what she knew, she could maybe run after the duo, help them, escape with them, forget about all the horror and the pain of this distorted new world. They could all flee to some lost corner of the world, untouched, where they could start over and... Jill did not know what they would do then. But just maybe the world would not follow them. And they could live in peace and denial.

Even though she would have been content to act on those feelings, it would not have been the truth. She did not love Sky or Kristy. Not really. Deep in her heart of hearts, through her gender switch, her tastes had switched too. Jill tried to fight the urges, the pangs in her loins and mind, indulging in wanton, loveless sex. Just like most teenagers. If she turned her back right then, Jill would be denying the truth. And really, in the end, everyone lived one lie or another. What would it matter in the end? In the short, sweet, and simple, life seemed so easy, so black and white.

Just as it had doomed so many, one thing tipped the balance. The need to [i]know[/i]. Jill had to know what would happen, and most importantly, had to know that she had a say in it. Slater watched Sky and Kristy until the two were gone. Then, she steeled her heart, sharpened her resolve with iron will, and turned away.

She looked at the chaos across the artificial lake, down the sheer drop, back up, then back down again. Then she took a deep breath, and jumped. And for just a moment, she flew.

As with all things physical, she approached the dive with elegance and force. She slid beneath the surface with good form, then arced up sharply in a spine-straining maneuver that had her back above the surface in less time than she spent free falling. Even though she knew she should not waste energy on the swim, Jill's frantic arms and legs betrayed her, meaning she was panting and heaving by the time she reached the rocky shore. She at least had the prescience to land as far from the growing scuffle as she had time to spare.

Closer in, she was able to identify strands at a greater distance and with a little determination, located the thread of Lance Greenfield. He was standing like a living statue near the back of the cruiser pack, watching his fellows go about their work in frozen fascination. Jill used the chaos to great effect, nimbly weaving her way around the outskirts of the police zone, using her natural coloring for as much camouflage as it afforded her. Still dripping wet, she called out to him, but the tiger remained catatonic. She had to snap her fingers twice right in front of his eyes for him to actually focus on her, but Lance came to his senses.

She had to shout over the thumping music and yells to be heard.

"I know it's disorienting, but I need you to focus. My friend, Victor, knows [i]exactly[/i] what's going on. But we need to get to him [i]right now[/i]. If someone knows about me, then they definitely know about my friend. If anyone can get your family back, it's him."

Nodding, and unable to find the words for the lurid tableau, he opened the car silently. Her wet body pressed uncomfortably against the seat. Although concerned, Jill would assess the detective's mental state after they had picked up Victor. Even as Jill sped away in Lance's cruiser, she cast a mournful glance over one shoulder to the disappearing spectacle, slowly losing hope that anything could fix all that had gone wrong.

The drama of the fight was left to play out without Jill or Lance. With a body count of under twenty and arrests with probable convictions over a hundred, the operation would be considered a resounding success.

Perhaps there was [i]one[/i] thing worth noting.

With a windpipe crushed by a unlucky hit from a rubber slug, Jason lay with the dirt and the other fallen bodies. Several times he was trampled over, but he hardly noticed, too preoccupied trying to force air into his shriveling lungs.

Perhaps the greatest irony was that even through the shifting world, he had realized how rash his actions were in calling Shawn and his ilk down upon Jill. He had been rejected before, and in retrospect realized how he had come across to his dear friend. In a moment of regret Jason had tried to call off the hit with Nelson and tried to warn Jill the night she went to the pool. The bull had even been relieved to hear that they had been killed, undoubtedly by the blade-totting teen.

The young man, so errant in his ways, had come to the quarry that night to find Jill. He would have bared his soul, secrets, and all his conspiracies. Afterwards, he would have dropped to his knees and begged for her forgiveness. It would have been one of the first truly selfless and genuine acts by Jason. It is unknown how the young, gender-bent would have received the confession, and although the memory of him she held was tarnished, it would never be stained by the full revelation of his betrayal.

The young bull would die there, unable to even cry out for help as he succumbed to asphyxiation. The chance his admission might have gone to fix that broken gap, both secret, and atonement, died with him in the dust.

****

For a second time, Jill found herself frantically pounding on Victor's door. There did not appear to be any signs of forced entry but Jill was practically beside herself, tapping a foot spasmodically. Greenfield had his sidearm drawn and was scanning the empty street.

"Jill! I was just about to text you. You'll never believe what I found in my dad's notes. He figured out a way to fix everything. Coded a whole new set of parameters for The Wheel. Uh, why are you in a swimsuit again, and who's that guy?" Victor looked Jill up and down in concern and nodded at Lance. Slater pushed the tech savvy young jackal into his home and gestured for Greenfield to come along.

"Don't worry, he's on our side." Jill offered simply. Victor took the lizard girl at her word and led her to the stifling computer room. The jackal plopped down into the chair and began talking very quickly.

"I have no idea how it works, but relatively, it's a very short coding. Only a few billion lines. I can only guess at what it'll do exactly, but I know my dad believed it could fix everything." Wright was typing furiously on both a keyboard connected to the many monitors and a laptop connected to one of the server stacks. "I don't know how, but he considered this whole fiasco a possibility and planned accordingly. It would have been impossible for us to try and match this level of sophistication. It's just too bad he wasn't able to use it himself.

"All we have to do, is connect this laptop to the master console, and The Wheel will take care of the rest. Aaaaaand... there!" He shouted in triumph. The young man grinned and his eyes lit up behind his spectacles and closed the laptop.

"Good, grab it and let's go." Jill grabbed her friend by the arm and pulled hard. Nearly tripping over himself to both go along and hold onto the precious portable computer, Victor sputtered questions all the way out to the police cruiser. The lizard girl had to shush him several times to get the young man to stay quiet.

Even as Lance coasted the vehicle around the corner, Victor kept trying to ask what was going on. In answer, Jill pointed to the unmarked van that screeched to a halt in front of his house. Half a dozen clandestine operators charged in through the door or circled around the back. Questions answered, Wright at last subsided.

****

As they drove, Victor told Lance everything he had told Jill.

The jackal informed the tiger about the scientists and their experiments, how their end result was a machine that could alter quantum probability. He spoke proudly about his father's opposition to the other's decision to use The Wheel for selfish ends, warning them of the consequences and how in retaliation his colleagues had erased him. He disclosed his own theories on the instability and rippling distortions of the primary branching reality trying to cope with the paradoxes introduced by the profound alteration stitched into its matrix. Victor finished with his final findings and hope that his father's final act might yet fix what was broken. He affirmed that if he got to the controls of The Wheel, he could put everything right.

Unlike Jill, the detective grasped the basic concepts quickly and asked pertinent questions at appropriate intervals, his focus never wavering from the road. Slater quelled her jealousy that the aged tiger had understood it where she had not at first. The feeling was petty and Jill dismissed it. Greenfield took it all in. A lesser man might have tried to deny what was right in front of him. Detective Greenfield was a man of indisputable fact, and base on incontrovertible evidence, Lance had no choice but to act according to the self-evident situation. Ludicrous as it was, the tiger took the teenagers at their word.

"So, all we have to do is get to this Wheel thing. You plug into it, and everything gets fixed. Where is it at?"

"It's under the building where my dad worked. It's in the Northview industrial park. The big blue one. It isn't actually on any of the city records. My dad wrote that the closer they got to finishing everything, the more paranoid a lot of them became. He talked about unnecessary security. They wanted to make sure no one would mess with it after they used The Wheel."

"So there's definitely security? Okay, I'm gonna pull into this park here, it's secluded. I'm going to arm up and you two are going to stay put there until I get back."

Jill looked incredulously at the officer.

"Don't even try. Do you feel [i]obligated[/i] to [i]pull that bullshit[/i]? Is it some kind of requirement in these situations, or do you just enjoy being told to go fuck yourself? Do you know what The Wheel looks like or how to use that program? No? Didn't think so. That's Victor. And for me? I already [i]saved your life[/i] once today. You [i]are[/i] going to pull over, but not so that you can act gung-ho and leave us. I have some strings to pull."

Although he tried valiantly to protest, Greenfield gave up after Jill began picking her nails with a knife and told him how long it would take to slash his tires and cut various vital pieces from the car. Victor was glad he was in the back. At almost five in the morning, Lance drove the police cruiser up a small dirt road to a secluded parking lot that led to a few hiking trails. It was far enough off the beaten path that, although lit, there was not a soul to be found. From the park, it was only a few miles to their target.

Lance killed the engine and the three piled out. While the detective busied himself taking stock of what weapons he could find in the cruiser, Jill beckoned Victor to follow her to a picnic table. The young lizard woman sat on the table and propped her feet up on the seat. Uncertain, Victor sat beside her.

"Do you think that what you've got there will work?" She asked.

"It has to." He responded simply. Jill nodded in agreement.

"Victor..."

"Yeah, Jill?"

"I need to tell you about something. I feel like you should know."

"What is it?"

"You remember how you asked about the knives?"

"Yeah. I remember."

"Do you still want to know?"

"Sure." She looked at the jackal critically at his casual response. "I do. I really do." He assured her.

Jill drew her knees up to her chest and her tail up between her legs, hugging herself.

"I was about nine or ten. I think. It's amazing the things you remember and the things you don't. Anyway, my mom was in one of her dating phases. There'd be a new guy around every few weeks. Sometimes they would be together for a while and sometimes I never even got to meet them. Really, she only brought the best ones to the house. But there was one... I remember his name was Robert. I remember that. Most definitely. Robert Whitman. You know what I remember most about him? His beard, and the look in his eye before and after I killed him.

"I was supposed to be in bed..."

****

Jill (no, she was Jack) was [i]supposed[/i] to be in bed, but the inquisitive nine (or ten) year old woke up because she (he) was thirsty.

Jack (Jill) got out of bed quietly. He heard his mother giggle softly and another voice respond from the living room. This was back in their old house, a single story, all they could afford at the time because of Jack's (dead)beat father. Young Jill, wearing an over-sized t-shirt plastered with some half-remembered cartoon character, snuck as quietly as children do down the hallway and past where it opened into the living room. He caught a glance of his mother, so beautiful with her bright coloring, smiling and talking and softly laughing with Robert.

The dark haired human male was in so many ways... average. Normal height. Normal build. Steady job. Mild, secure interests and hobbies. Well-chosen clothes. Rather than detract, it lent him an air of humility that he bore with pride. Prone to occasional bouts of preening, he nevertheless managed to seem just reluctant enough that you [i]wanted[/i] to give him a pat on the back. For Miss Slater, he seemed the perfect catch. Polite, sane, and he seemed to enjoy spending time her son.

In her young mind, Jill (Jack) liked Mister Whitman because her mother liked him. He made her happy, and that was enough for the child. Such was the simplicity of young life. No thorny, trailing material thoughts. Be they of wealth or physical beauty, such concerns held no sway. Happiness. That simplest of things was the only deciding factor in Jill's (no, no, Jack's) mind. Mother was happy, so he was happy.

At the moment he was more thirsty than happy, but that was neither here nor there.

Although he was not too concerned with discovery, what with the adults more than preoccupied in their undoubtedly adult conversation, Jack was still cautious. With the lights from the living room streaming in, the cupboards and fridge were put in sharp, if monochromatic relief to Jack's dark adjusted eyes. Determined to quench his thirst, Jack did just as he had been told not to, and did repeatedly, and climbed up onto the cool kitchen counter top in order to reach a glass. Still as silent as could be, caught up in a child's tiny spy make believe, he filled up his vessel from the sink. He was stretched up on the tips of his toes to reach the stream.

Content, Jack was about to take a sip when a cry startled him into dropping the smooth glass. The delicate container shattered on the hard linoleum. Shards scattered in a pattern only chaos would recognize. Cold water splashed against his toes. Until the next scream hit his ears, Jack's only worry was that his mother would be mad at him for making a mess and being up late. When he realized that it was his mother who had shouted, the young boy forget about the innocence he left broken on the floor.

Jack (Jill) peaked into the room and saw the crime unfolding on the couch. The back of the sofa obscured much of his view. What he could see was his mother's panicked face, a few fingers around her neck, Robert's rage filled visage, and his fist coming down against the lizard woman's tear stained features. For a moment, the young boy was shocked into stillness, his young mind not quite equipped to process all that he was seeing. He did not understand why Mister Whitman would hurt his mother. Nor could he comprehend the rage. Robert's lips were pulled back, showing white teeth and pink gums clenched so hard it was a miracle he did not crack a tooth.

What happened next went by so fast, sometimes Jack (Jill) still felt like it had all been some dream or vision. When the officers asked why Jack went for a knife, he did not have an answer. Perhaps he remembered how much it had hurt when he had cut himself cutting vegetables, helping his mother cook dinner, and thought that it would make Whitman stop hurting his mother.

The ten (or nine) year old grabbed the biggest, longest kitchen blade he could get his little hands on and charged back into the living room. Just as Robert had not heard the glass breaking in the kitchen, he did not see or hear the little boy run around the back of the couch. Being a nimble child, Jack easily hopped up onto the arm of the couch and from there, onto Robert's back, plunging the blade in downward grip as he went. In the grip of adrenaline, the young boy found a reserve of terrifying strength, sinking the kitchen knife all the way to the handle in Robert's back, just bellow the shoulder blade.

Next he knew, Jack was lying on the ground, Whitman having instantly responded to the attack by twisting and throwing the little urchin off. It was this opening, his hands no longer strangling and pummeling Miss Slater, that the mother heaved and rolled the man off herself. The mother and child were very lucky indeed, because if Whitman had gotten up from the ground, he might have gone past just giving the two a beating. But with the knife sticking out of his back, when the batterer hit the floor it drove the blade the rest of the way in. The handle, even though it had no edge was plunged all the way into flesh, cracking two ribs with the concentrated force. Several bloody inches burst from Robert's chest, showing just how far he had been skewered.

Robert tried to grab the steel protruding the wrong way, a dribble of blood leaking from his open mouth. The man would writhe out the last few seconds of his life, still trying.

With the combined smell of blood, piss, and fear in his nostrils for the first time Jack felt no pain from his own injuries. And because he was a good son that remembered what his mother had taught him about calling nine-one-one in emergencies did as he aught. He was a good boy. He protected his mother from the man who had been hurting her.

After getting off the phone with the operator, the authorities arrived with the alacrity of a world where home assault with possible life-threatening injuries and a child's life possibly in danger actually meant something. The responding officer found Miss Slater holding her son (daughter) tightly on the couch with the body of Robert Whitman still bleeding on the floor. Jack's mother insisted the EMT look her son over before she received treatment.

Young Jack did not remember much after that, just sitting in the hospital with her mother in a bed with lots of police asking a lot of questions. They were very nice about it. Jack remembered that much. Never pushing too hard, always reassuring him that Robert was a bad man and that he had done the right thing in protecting his mom.

They recommended for Jack's mother to take him to a child specialist to make sure that the event did not impact his psyche or development. In the end though, the many experts only served to reinforce Jack's new-found power. They would tell him that attacking someone was bad, but then praise him for the defense of his mother.

It was the beginning of a pattern. Jack learned that he felt safer with a knife in reach, found out that it kept the monsters and the bad dreams away. Soon, when he started bringing it to school it gave him power. He discovered that it was mistake to share his secret with anyone. Because no one understood. On recommendation from one of the private psychiatrists, Jack was enrolled in martial arts and self-defense courses as an after-school activity. The young boy could not have been more thrilled. The idea had been that discipline and the security given by the knowledge would distance him from his knife obsession.

Naturally, as always happened when parents wished for therapy to work, the plan backfired spectacularly. Instead of leaving knives behind, it allowed Jack to become truly capable and more dedicated to making his lifestyle work.

With enough determination, nearly anything is possible. After all, there was a group of people who changed the fundamental laws of the world, how much of a stretch was it for one young, traumatized boy (girl) to become an expert on knives?

****

"And that's pretty much everything. That's why my mother kept a shotgun in the house after that, and why we ended up moving here. I think we both wanted to get away. We only moved twice. So I never really minded. It let me get in practice with concealment. Also probably why when I did get caught with anything dangerous at school, my mom would just come and raise a little holy hell. She let me get away with it too, never really bugging me too hard. That's what a lot of the psychiatrists said. I had to work through the anxiety, that I would leave the 'security blanket' behind eventually."

Jill had no bitterness in her voice, simply resignation that what had happened, happened.

"I've only told a very few people about all that. Most of them obligated not to violate client privilege. Thanks for listening. I just needed someone else to know before we do this thing."

"I'm glad you told me." He sounded genuine, and that was enough for the other teen.

She caught the jackal noticing her cleavage in the swimsuit.

"You like me, don't you, Victor?" His gaze quickly snapped away and he stammered a few confused apologies. Then she brought his gaze back by pulling down the top of her swimsuit, almost letting her breasts pop right out. Then she leaned in and stole a kiss. At first he pulled away.

"Jill... Jill, I... I know things... must be hard for you being like... like that." She did not let him get far, pulling him back. For the sake of actually enjoying what she wanted, the young woman set Jack aside and was just Jill for a while.

"Please, Victor, I need this." Those were the magic words, for that shattered even the mightiest barriers of the male mind. She got off the picnic table and grabbed his hand. "C'mon. I want a little privacy at least. Hey, Lance, we'll be over here, okay?" She called to the detective as she led the young jackal off into the woods. The detective watched the two teenagers disappear behind some trees and shook his head knowingly. He could not begrudge them their moment alone because it made him reminisce on his own secret escapades with Annabelle.

There, behind some trees and few bushes, on a small patch of soft grass, Jill wrapped her arms around the jackal and kissed him truly. She tasted him, felt him, accepted him. She kissed him as she had kissed no other. And he kissed her back. He met her advances with equal passion and commitment. At first, their lips moved together slowly, learning and exploring. Closing her eyes, Jill focused on the feeling and found herself making little sounds of pleasure. With his arms around her and her breasts against his firm chest, she felt herself slowly opening up. Soon their questing tongues found each other and the young lizard girl moaned in unabashed pleasure.

Victor responded by squeezing her tightly, pushing and venturing boldly. He rubbed her back as his tongue felt along her teeth and lips. One of his hands slipped a little lower, gently grabbing her butt. And it felt so [i]good[/i] for her to be held and be touched. Jill pressed harder against his body and clenched her legs, suddenly gripped with a need to have stimulation. For a moment, the feelings became a little too intense for the teens and they pulled away without let go, panting.

"Wow." Jill said simply. She'd never gotten so hot just from a little kissing.

"Jill, I..." Victor started. He looked away and Jill giggled at his nervous gesture. "I hope it's not too much... But... I, I think." He glanced at her. "I think I love you." He winced in preparation for her rebuttal.

She broke from his grip. But not for the reason he feared. Jill lay down on the grass and held her arms out and open to him. Her eyes held a come-hither allure.

"Stop thinking about it. If you love me, then come here and love me."

And he did.

They resumed their kiss without hesitation. Their pace was a little slower as Jill took one of Victor's paws and guided it between her legs. In an agonizing tease, he did not immediately touch her flesh, instead he rubbed her slit along the swimsuit. She felt the pressure through the fabric. He could feel the heat radiating from her sex even through the suit His fingers pressing against her soft mound sent tingles to her nub. With a frustrated groan, she reached down and pulled the flimsy barrier aside and pressed his hand against her bare scales. As his cool hand at last touched her hot flesh her back arched in joyous pleasure.

The jackal gently cupped the lizard girl's vulva and then resumed rubbing up and down the slit.

So assaulted, Jill's eyes fluttered and although she hesitated for a long time, she reciprocated. The teenager ran a hand up her lover's shirt to feel his soft fur and ever so slowly, moved lower. At first, she teased him as he had her, rubbing his throbbing erection along the tent in his pants. And although she gulped a little in fright, she went back up, rubbed his chest a little more, and slid her hand under his waistband. Jill thought he felt big through his pants. But what she had felt on the outside was inaccurate. He was bigger. Even as a girl, she felt a little penis envy.

When her hand found, and wrapped around his manhood, she felt the rod throb a little in her grip. Fortunately Victor responded to the touch by giving more vigorous attention to her flower, going so far as to part her folds a little and tease her entrance. Her cunny practically gushed for him, for his touch. This extra pleasure eased down her barriers and she stroked his rod as they continued to kiss. As Jill's arousal increased, so did her appetite and a temptation grew in her mind and loins.

She pushed the jackal off her with a silent nudge. The girl compelled the teen to stand while she kneeled in front of him. With a growing blush, Jill undid the button to Victor's pants and pulled down his pants and underwear. His rock hard member sprung free and Jill nearly eeped in shock. The jackal was [i]quite[/i] well endowed. A little intimidated, the lizard girl once again wrapped a hand around his girth and found that he was so thick, her fingers were not even close to touching around the red cock. Hesitantly, she leaned closer.

"Jill... you don't have to..." The boy said. Jill looked up at him, her cheeks still bright with blush.

"But, I want to." She said simply.

For a moment all Jill's fears and anxiety came to the fore. If she did this, then part of her mind said she would be losing a part of herself. Then she realized that was ridiculous and wrapped her lips around the head of Victor's tool. Though, she did feel a little relief that he really just tasted like skin. Victor moaned at how warm her mouth was. With the first obstacle passed, Jill felt a little more confident and licked the tip a little before taking more of him into her maw. For the young woman, the erotic act felt so devious, she felt herself getting incredibly turned on. Meanwhile Victor gave in to the most incredible of blow jobs.

Jill moaned in salacious bliss, giving the jackal an extra jolt of pleasure. Even though he was huge, Jill's long muzzle allowed her to take almost his whole length to the back of her throat. Victor's knees nearly buckled and he grabbed Jill's horns for support, accidentally driving her a little deeper. Her nose brushed right up into his pubic hair while she suppressed her gag reflex. While one of her hands was on his hip for steadiness, she could not resist clenching the other between her thighs to ease some of the arousal she felt down there. She also could not fail to notice the subtly, spicy scent of his body wash. The masculine odor was oddly intoxicating, yet also comforting.

His girth made it a little difficult, but Jill pulled back a little and began running her tongue over the jackal's rod. Victor's dick was so hard it was painful as the lizard girl did her thing. He watched her lips move sinuously around his dick as she pulled almost all the way back to stroke the shaft of his manhood with her surprisingly strong tongue. The jackal supposed that having memories of what it was like to have a dick helped. The fact that in another life Jill had been Jack bothered the young man not one bit, for he only knew Jill. Simple as that.

From root to crown, the bent teen performed oral that would make a show-girl blush. Having had her fun letting go of inhibitions, she wanted to know just how good she was. Jill once again engulfed the jackal's girthy tool and sucked him all the way to the hilt. Once there, she started slow and worked up to a quick pace, bobbing her head forward and back. From the way she felt Victor grip her horns and thrust his hips, she knew she was doing something right. Jill kept up her pace, feeling his cock grow a little stiffer and throb. Although he tried, the jackal could not hold off his orgasm. The feeling, and the sight of Jill's luscious acid green lips around his red manhood was just too much.

"Jill... Jill, I'm gonna..." Was all he managed before growling in release.

She felt him pulse and knew he was cumming. Totally freed from shame, she pressed him as far back as he would go and started making her throat swallow. The head of his cock was milked as he came in Jill's mouth. She felt his warm cum hit her tonsils kept swallowing. Being a virile teenage boy, he had a lot in him. Slowly though, his throbbing cock and clenching balls eased off and Jill pulled back with a gasp for air.

"Was that good?" She asked, still level with his softening manhood.

"Holy shit..." Was all Victor could manage as he tried to keep upright. He saw the hand clenched between her legs, could lightly smell how horny she was, and got an idea. Rebounding with the quickness of youth from his climax, Victor playfully pushed Jill onto her back and moved between her legs. Curious, Jill watched him lay down on his stomach and scooch forward. He gave the hand over her crotch a little lick with a devilish grin.

"No, no, you... you don't..."

"[i]But I want to[/i]." He teased. And although she did not say it, she wanted him to as well.

Victor nudged her hand out of the way and pulled aside the crotch of her swimsuit. Feeling a very feminine shyness, Jill tried to cover her secret place. With one lap of his tongue, Jill's mind melted happily. Jill's soft flower felt especially sensitive as the cool air caressed her wetness then warm extremity licked her labia. Even though Jill did not know why, yet Victor licking her cunt felt so much better than anything Sky or Kristy had done.

The reason of course, was that it was [i]Victor[/i] doing it.

The inexperienced, yet creative and well-read jackal sensed when he had teased his mate just the right amount and drove his tongue deeper, parting her folds. Her clit was stiff and eager for stimulation so was easy for his questing tongue to find. Although Victor did not have the same finesse with eating pussy as a lesbian might, there was something [i]special[/i] in how he did it. His long, canine tongue, although clumsy, had a certain determination to it. Perhaps also, Jill realized, he was truly a selfless lover. He was not eating her out because he wanted something out of it, he was doing it, and with such zeal and fervor, because he simply wanted to make her feel good.

And feel good she did. Better than she knew she ever could. Tough and jaded, the lizard girl would have expected the nerdy jackal in glasses that sat at the back of class would not know right from left when it came to going down on a girl. How wrong she was. His tongue brushed across her entrance, tasting the soaking wet hole and slid up to her nub. He noted how Jill writhed whenever he hit her love button.

With gallantry verging on gynecomania, he threw himself into pleasing his partner. He sucked and licked and kissed her glistening sex. The jackal drove her up the wall with his ministrations to her erogenous zones. Every time he would come back to her clit, ravishing the sensitive little bundle of nerves. Eventually she had enough and grabbed some of his hair and guided his muzzle back to the sweet spot. Taking the hint, Victor focused all his efforts on her nub. His tongue did little circles, teasing the shy bud from its petals. Completely at his mercy, Jill gasped as the whole surface of his tongue undulated along her pearl.

Lost in euphoria, she wrapped her legs around his back and drew him in closer. Enraptured in the foreplay, Jill gripped the grass and Victor's hair. Her incredibly strong thighs were nearly squeezing the life out of him and the jackal knew his only chance was to make the lizard girl cum as quickly as he could and redoubled his efforts. Jill moaned, thrashed her tail, and thrust her hips uncontrollably as she was pushed over the edge, riding out her orgasm against Victor's mouth. She lost herself in a silent scream of release. For his part, the jackal lapped up her honey and breathed a sigh of relief as Jill eased up on her entwined legs. The lizard girl's pussy clamped as she practically gushed girl-cum.

The jackal rubbed a sore spot on his back where her heels had dug into him and watched her twitch a few times as the after bits of her climax stimulated her nerves. The bosomy girl panted, breasts rising and falling as all she could manage was to lay there and make tiny pleasured sounds. Victor crawled further on top of her and gave a good, long kiss. Then, made to get off.

"Wait!" Jill said, surprised. A part of her was truly touched that he would go no further without consent even though she could see he was sporting a raging erection again. For what would come next, she wanted to feel him like a real lover would. So to that end, she slipped the straps of the bathing suit down off her shoulders and shimmied the black one-piece down her waist and her legs. The lizard girl discarded the suit off into the woods with hardly a care.

She bared her body with all its oddities, all its scars, piercings, and excessive muscle. Jill would have been completely naked, but for the knives on her biceps. Always, she had her knives. Even so, it was a very intimate gesture. Once again she held her arms out to the jackal.

"Love me."

Victor was only a little surprised, having been quietly hoping that Jill would want to go all the way. He stripped as well. The jackal was thin and rather wiry, yet he had an oddly confident cant. The boy kneeled down between Jill's legs and rubbed the head of his manhood along her nethers.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He gave her every chance to back out.

She shook her head. With her long bright hair spread through the grass, Victor found her breathtakingly beautiful.

"Just be slow." She needed for it to be gentle, and he was gentle as could be. Victor collected her natural wetness to ease passage and guided himself to the bottom of her slit. Jill felt the tip catch in her pussy and she took a deep breath when she realized she was shaking. "Go ahead. It's okay." She urged him.

Leaning forward with one hand planted on the grass and another guiding forward, he steadily applied pressure until Jill's sex yielded and he slipped a few inches in. It hurt, yet it felt so good too. The jackal's circumference was almost too much for the lizard girl and the boy paused to let the girl become accustomed. It was hard to not just ram the rest of the way in. To say that the soft, scaly pussy was tight would have been like saying the sun was only mildly hot. If Victor had not cum once already he might have popped right there. After clenching and relaxing her inner muscles, Jill urged the boy to sink the rest of the way. Even with the incredible strength of her walls, she was so wet that it was pretty easy for Victor to hilt.

When Jill felt her nub at last grind up against his root she squirmed and shook and cried out a little at the intensity of all the feelings. He was in her, stretching her, filling her up to the core. He was inside her deeper than she thought he could go, deeper than she knew her insides went. He was mashing somewhat uncomfortably against the back of her tunnel, but the sensation was so new she did not mind. Nothing had touched her there before. There was a special closeness in their coupling that Jill acutely felt. She reached up and brought the jackal down and she sighed in pleasure as his soft fur pressed against her breasts.

She accepted Victor being on top of her. Embracing a little femininity did not make her muscles or mind suddenly atrophy like some might have wished her to believe. It was good to surrender control for once. Having that weight in fact made her feel weightless. There was only the grass beneath and the warm body above. The gaze of the lover's met and between them passed an understanding of warmth and affection that could only be expressed through the physical union of their bodies. Unable to hold back any longer, Victor kissed Jill to feel her mouth and make sure she did not moan too loudly, and began to make love to her.

The jackal began a rhythm, slowly increasing the depth of his thrusts each time, and burying himself all the way with every push. Jill involuntarily moaned into her mate's mouth with each, feeling her love tunnel yielding slowly. As he started moving fast, she clenched her muscles and made him moan in return. Wet slaps reached Jill's ears as Victor's pace increased. Soon enough he was slamming into her, his crotch mashing against her nethers. They both broke the kiss in order to pant and get more air.

Even if he wanted, Victor probably could not have stopped. The cunt he was rutting had virgin tightness due to Jill's incredible physicality. Silky green insides constricted with enough force to ripple and responded to each vigorous plow.

"Yes. Yes, fuck me. Oooh! Victor... fuck me." Jill begged as the eroticism outshone the discomfort. She wanted to cum badly with how he was stimulating her. She forced his cock against her secret spots by clenching as he fucked into her. For just a little while, the two teenager's worlds were right. No worry or fear could interfere with their bubble of safety. For that small time, they were simply two furs having really good sex.

"Jill..." The jackal warned as he was well past the point of no return.

"Make me cum. Cum in me. Yesssss." She said, uncaring about who might hear.

It was the special way he thrust into her as he approached orgasm that finally drove her over the edge. Fortunately their position meant every time he hilted all the way his pubic bone pressed against her clit. With him just thrusting in an out, she might not have been able to cum. When he neared his zenith, the jackal pistoned his hips as hard as he could, digging his toes and fingers into the ground to get a better grip and fuck Jill harder. He was sliding almost his whole, generous length in and out of her each time. When he had first began, Jill was unsure if she [i]could[/i] cum from their mating. For the second time she was very pleasantly surprised.

And for the second time, she crested the rise of her orgasm even as Victor built towards his. Just as she thought she would go mad from the feeling, barely holding back a real scream, Victor reach his climax and came deep inside her. Although his thrusts got shorter, they were no less vigorous as his tool shot hot seed and painted the back of her womb with cum. Jill's body tensed and her womanhood milked the invading tool for all she was worth as Victor's fucking extended her climax past what she thought possible. There had been a fire in her loins and somehow the hot male jizz quenched it. The jackal pressed as hard as he could into his lizard one more time, making sure she had squeezed every last drop into her fertile depths.

Panting, sweating, utterly spent, and content with the sun and moon and stars, the two lovers embraced there in the lonely wood. Victor's cock grew soft and he slipped out of his mate's pussy to hold her in the grass. For a time, neither Jill nor Victor wanted to move or face reality once again. Jill especially simply wanted to curl up there and maybe sleep. Let the world fix its own problems. She felt safe with her lover's warm fur and arms, enveloped in the scent of their coitus, caught in the afterglow.

But she knew she could not stay there forever.

So with a heavy heart and a well-used pussy full of jackal cum, she gave Victor one more kiss and sat up. She winced a little as the contents of her sex sloshed and a fair bit of cum gushed past her entrance. It was grossly satisfying in all the wrong ways. Even more strangely, the young lizard woman felt she could face the future without regrets and hoped that Victor felt the same way.

"You ready?"

The jackal sat up as well. In a very tender gesture, he laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah. Thank you, Jill, for everything."

"Pfft, what are you thanking [i]me[/i] for. Without you, we wouldn't have a prayer. I'm just a messenger making sure the message is delivered." The lizard girl stood with renewed fire in her eyes. "C'mon. We're gonna go save the world." She said with a self deprecating chuckle.

There was a thread that Jill had kept tabs on since she had appeared on the cliff above the quarry. She did not even have to physically reach out her hand, simply focusing and giving it a special little tug with her steely will...

****/n-li(externaluuuuuusserOverideideide****

... And stood ready for battle.

Shimmering obsidian carbon fiber guards were strapped to her shins and forearms. Fingerless suede SAP gloves meant she had steel shot on top of her knuckles and steel plates on the back of her hands. Jill had comfortable panties, spandex tights, and a thigh-length skirt all incredibly light, all black. The ensemble allowed her full range of motion without any hindrance. Underneath of course were concealed her babies, her favorite and most deadly of knives and a few other weapons as well. A thick, green studded belt cinched it all together. Above her waist was a coal tank top and a very tough bra to eliminate unnecessary jiggle. She wore a paisley bandana around her neck and her hair was back in a ponytail with a wicked, dragon topped spike through it for decoration. Her tail was bare and poked through the appendage friendly skirt.

Victor had to put his glasses back on to make sure he was seeing things right. Jill spun a little, checking herself out and making sure everything was in order. Then she looked around and located the grey hoodie to help conceal herself. She also picked up a bundle that she held out to the surprised jackal. It was a leather belt with something Victor had not seen in a long time.

The teenager drew out his father's colt nineteen-eleven pistol. The belt held four extra clips, all with live ammunition.

"This was my father's. He must have taken it with him when he left that last day. I looked for it. We used to go shooting together sometimes."

"I know." Jill said cryptically. "Trust me when I say, you're going to need it. Put it on, Victor. Oh, you might want to put on some pants first."

****

Detective Lance kept his thoughts to himself as he watched the two teens come out of the woods. He wore a Kevlar vest and his Beretta. A loaded Mossberg five-hundred waited in the cruiser. Victor had foolishly left his laptop behind and Lance had considered leaving the two in the park, but after seeing the coding of the alteration program decided grudgingly it [i]would[/i] be a good idea to wait.

"Alright. I don't like taking you kids into a potentially dangerous situation, so I hope you both are ready for the worst. If lead starts flying, I want you two to get low and stay behind me. Stick close, and watch out for each other. Am I understood?" Lance could hardly bear his own children vanishing. He did not need the blood of someone else's kids on his stripes. Jill did not argue the point and agreed, as did Victor.

****

The building which housed The Wheel had no physical address or name. Any search for the property, or any public record of the construction or ownership would come of blank. It was a simple glass and steel cube some ten stories high. Yet this was just a front for its true purpose. Just as there was no address, the building bore no identifying mark or logo. What it did have was a twenty foot high, barbed wire perimeter fence with only one gate going in or out. There was obviously a night shift security force as there was a light on in the gatehouse and visible from the lobby.

As they drove up, Jill noted at least two guards walking along the inside of the fence. Lance guided the cruiser that gave the illusion of urgency. The engine idled while the doberman manning the gatehouse emerged and approached the driver side. He appeared to be from a simple security outfit, blue shirt, black pants.

"Good morning, officer. What can I do for you?"

"I need you to open the gate. I'm here to pick up one of your employees."

"Please! Please, let us in." Jill pleaded, already coaxing fake tears.

"You're gonna have to explain a bit, officer. Who's this?" The security demanded.

"This is the daughter of one of my fellow officers. He... he's in the hospital right now. There was a major police action a few hours ago and he was injured. I'm here to pick up his wife."

"I know my mom is working late. Please." Tears gushed from Jill's ducts.

From where he hid in the back seat, Victor found it to be quite a convincing performance.

"Alright, alright, let me call you in and let them know you're coming. Who's your mom, sweetheart?"

"Missus Neal." Jill said with a sniff. It was the last name of one of the scientists. Using the bluff was a bit of a gamble, but it offered them the best chance of getting inside without raising an alarm. The doberman returned to the gatehouse and picked up the receiver of the phone on the wall. He talked for a few moments, each second of delay made Jill's heart beat faster. The security seemed confused, then he looked at the cruiser and his eyes widened before he slammed a fist onto the console in front of him.

Their cover blown, Lance gunned the engine and rammed the cruiser through the gate, tearing the feeble chain-link down with him. Tires screeching, he rocketed across the decorative topiary in the entrance plaza and drove the several hundred feet straight up to the front door. Both Jill and Victor held on for dear life through the rough ride. Just a yard short of plowing straight through the glass front of the building, Lance killed the engine.

Greenfield, Slater, and Wright got out of the cruiser and ran towards the glass-fronted building. There was another security guy sitting behind the front desk who was standing but Lance had his Mossberg up and trained on the hapless fellow. Jill tried the door, found it locked, and kicked it in with a shower of glass. Careful not to cut their feet, the trio advanced into the lobby while the outlying guards converged.

"Drop your gun and run." Demanded the shotgun toting Greenfield. With a nod and inward confirmation that he did not get paid enough for shit like this, the desk guard did as he was bid. The detective covered them as the three ran towards the recessed bank of elevators. Victor had his father's security pass and swiped it through the card reader. Fortunately, even though erased, the scientists still needed his contributions to The Wheel, so his codes still functioned.

As they waited tensely while the elevator clanked and churned, Jill felt another shift coming.

"Oh sh-"

****/n-thewhtheturnsethewheeleltturnsthewheelurnsline****

A high caliber bullet tore through glass, then Kevlar, then flesh, bone, then Kevlar again as it struck Lance high in the chest and exited through his back before burrowing into the floor of the lobby. The crack of the gunshot followed from the sniper tower that had appeared in the fence line. Police standard bullet proof fibers, stained with police blood, scattered from the wound as Lance dropped like a puppet with its strings cut. His Mossberg clattered to the floor from dead fingers.

"Shit!" Jill grabbed the drag handle on the back of Greenfield's vest and hauled the tiger out of the line of fire. Several more bullets impacted the wall of the bend, scattering masonry. The lizard girl propped the detective against the wall between two elevators and noted the hole in his chest was easily three fingers wide. Nothing short of a trained trauma doctor could save the tiger then. Blood dribbled from the tiger's lips. Next to them, one of the elevators let out a happy chime and the burnished steel doors slid open.

"Go, go, go. Just go." Lance burbled and shoved Jill and the horrified Victor away. It did not take a genius to see that the policeman was not going anywhere anytime soon. Jill steeled herself and grabbed Victor to get the jackal moving and leaped into the open elevator, stabbing the lowest floor button urgently.

Part of Jill felt sorry for the detective. A very small part of her that did not disdain authority and what it had become. Were the shifts really to blame for all the evil in the world? How many decisions tipped did it take to turn the world a darker shade of grey? How much of the brutality was impossible without intervention and how much needed just that little nudge? When all was said and done, the lizard girl felt more guilt in not really feeling any guilt at all.

The steel portal shut just as quickly as it had opened and the metal box descended quickly.

Detective Lance sat slumped against the wall, dimly aware of the voices of the guards drawing close. Every beat of his heart was painful. Yet that agony was fading with every failing thump in his chest. His life could be measured in heartbeats, literally ticking away. Numbly his fingers quested for the last thing he had left to hold onto. From a protected pocket he pulled the last picture of his family before the change, somehow miraculously preserved. It was for that possibility, for the potentiality that he had sacrificed his life.

In his dying moments as his sight faded he was content, knowing he had protected his wife and children. In his blindness he could not see that the picture was already blank except for the smear of his own blood.

And died smiling.

Sadly that is the hard truth of the world. Not everyone has a great destiny. For some, there is only glory in death. And for others, not even that.

****

Down and down they went. Deeper and deeper. Past layers of shielding concrete. Past structure pylons. Past layers of diesel generators and further still. Into the bowels of machinery the elevator at last ground to a halt, chiming that it had reached as far is it could go. Neither Jill or Victor could think of anything to say until the doors at last opened. The pair emerged into darkness.

Quantum processing stacks, lit with toggles, switches and displays ranged as far as they could see. Some reached all the way to the ceiling. Each row and column were mathematically precise in their distance from each other, laid out in a perfect grid. There were easily tens of thousands of stacks. And they had passed too many floors to count that were similar. Fiber optic cables hung like vines everywhere. Being the bottom level, the physical floor was free of clutter for movement free from trip hazards. The air was kept at a reasonable fifty degrees by cooling pylons that spanned almost the full height of the building.

Only the illumination given off by the stacks lit the way. Any overhead lighting would have contributed unnecessary heat and drawn excess power.

"Alright, professor. Where do we go now?" Jill asked, jamming the elevator open with a collapsible baton in the door sensor. The jackal consulted the floor-plan on his laptop and pointed.

"There should be a big set of doors that lead to the master console. Straight that way."

Together they made their way as quickly as the low lighting would allow. Soon they were lost in the forest of electronics. Jill stopped dead without warning, her ears twitching. Victor turned to ask what was wrong but the girl held up a hand for silence.

"Keep going. We're being followed." She commanded. Although he hesitated, the jackal understood how Jill worked. She waited for her lover's footfalls to fade before breathing the cool air in deeply. With a shrug she discarded the hoodie and stalked away into the dark. It was easy to spot the guards who had followed. The fools were actually using flashlights, sweeping them through the stacks. They may as well have been calling Marco Polo to each other. There was more than ample cover for Jill to approach completely undetected.

She started at one side and worked her way across.

The first guard she struck never knew what hit him. Deadly little Jill circled around behind, padding stealthily across the smooth cement. In both hands she held eighteen inches of sharpened, high carbon instrument. With only four knives meant for throwing, she had killed five prime young men. With real battle knives, Jill's abilities began to edge into the preternatural. The lizard girl's first strike sank blade into the small of the guard's back while the other plunged into his throat just above the clavicle almost simultaneously. With the finger holes affording her a superior grip, it was easy to retract her blades.

Carefully switching off the flashlight the fallen security had been carrying, she allowed her eyes a moment to readjust before going after the next.

Hamstring, then throat.

Heart through the back.

Both lungs punctured.

One by one, death followed the pursuers. Even covered in blood up to the elbows, Jill's grasp never faltered. Eventually the survivors caught on to what was happening and slowly clustered together. Patiently, Jill followed, darting between light beams and quantum stacks.

"Has anyone seen Jim?"

"No, what about Harry? Harry?!"

"Keep those sticks up! Remember, we can't use guns in here. Besides, that crazed cop was taken out already. There's just a couple of kids down here."

Jill grinned with a psychotic twinkle in her eye.

The overly armed teen had a hatchet and used it to similar effect as she had in her home. Heavy steel tumbled and thwacked into the back of the skull of the guard who had been rallying the rest. For a moment, the remaining three simply stood dumbfounded. Knives whistled from outside their light and struck another two. The last one gathered his wits just in time to be stabbed in the back, skewered so far that the tip of Jill's dagger emerged from under his ribs.

Coldly, Slater finished off the wounded so they would not follow.

****

Jill found the door easily enough. She just walked straight to one of the walls and following it from there. The titanium monstrosity would have been more at home in some evil organization's underground lair than a science building. Huge gears and pistons were turning even as Jill approached. Victor had his gun out and at the ready and looked very relieved to see the lizard woman.

"The door's just cycling. It opens both ways. Just takes a while. Something about containment. Not sure."

Just as Slater began to believe that maybe they were in the clear, a deep, grinding rumble emanated from somewhere far below them.

"Uh-oh. I don't like this. I really don't like this one." Jill put a hand to her head and felt liquid running down her face and found blood pouring from her nostrils. Her own blood.

"Fuck! Has it always done this?" Victor exhibited similar symptoms.

"I don't know. Either we were never close enough to feel the effects or-"

****/n-li*ljhafCatastrophasdfic FAILSAFE ENGAGED INSTABILITY DETECTED****

"If something else..." Jill never got to finish her thought as a dozen security guards stood arrayed around the two teens. These individuals were clearly from a different company, wearing all black and had more than a few nasty looking toys on their belts. They wore equally nasty expressions and held law enforcement nightsticks at the ready. Shaking off the vertigo of the shift, Slater made sure Victor was still up and aware.

With her back against a wall, Jill did the only logical thing, and attacked.

The element of surprise was lost after her first kill. She went for the second on the left. Getting up close, Jill discovered that these new forces would not be so easy to put down. They wore thick, heavy tactical vests. Even with her strength and the sharpness of her blades, it would be all too easy for Jill to become entangled in a kill. She retracted her knives from the dolphin she had gutted and made ready for the onslaught to come.

The next guard, the one on the edge of the line was quicker, getting his stick up in time to block one of her blades but not quick enough to catch the one that caught him in the jaw. With an upward swing, Jill brought her knife through soft flesh and up into skull and brain. When she wrenched her embedded blade free, the force wrenched the lifeless body around on her steel. Two more were on her quick as a flash and for just a second it was all she could do to defend herself. But with careful parrying, the lizard girl made the openings she needed.

First to fall was the crocodile who raised his arm way too high for a knockout blow. Jill plunged her knife almost to the hilt in his unprotected armpit. The only noise he managed was a sharp gasp before collapsing. The other she caught in groin, bending her body below a blow. It was not a fatal shot instantly, but all the severed blood vessels would quickly take their toll. Seeing Jill as the greatest threat, the rest descended as one, nightsticks held high and ready.

Jill lost herself in the bloody dance. Against her grace and skill, even the private security force might as well have been statues. She wove through the bloody threads of their fate like a Black Widow. Her blades were extensions of her arms and they responded to her will faster than she could think. There was more to her than what appeared on the surface. Even she, with all her practice and unnatural talent, still should not have managed what she executed. Slater's awareness of the strings upon which she pulled and manipulated had slowly been coming into clearer and sharper focus. The last shift had brought them into stark relief. Proximity to The Wheel, the source, allowed her to sift through the web of the threads and pick out probability.

Near-future sight let her see what paths her attackers would take. She could see their strikes and weak points with laser precision. And through it, she wove their ruin. Flesh parted, vessels separated, and organs were punctured as the security that had been forced into existence, died. They died to a seventeen year old girl with an unhealthy obsession with knives. She could not quite dodge bullets. Not [i]yet[/i] anyway.

Until only one was left.

Taking the more pragmatic approach the human raised a can of pepper spray and Jill tensed, ready to roll forward and put her steel through the man. Then a forty-five pistol blew his brains out. There was a certain finality, like a dirge as the shot echoed and faded into the stacks. Jill whipped her head around to see Victor with his father's smoking gun standing in front of the now open door.

"You could have done that earlier, y'know."

"You looked like you were having fun." He responded sardonically.

Together, they stepped beyond the threshold and with a few button pushes the door began to lock closed again. At last, their goal reached, the two of them stood within the room of the master console. Jill was expecting some arcane monolith or literally giant wheel. What she got instead was a single computer screen on a plain desk. The room was huge really, almost frightfully cavernous. Seemingly the only concession to importance was that the desk sat on a raised platform, little more than a step really. Generous illumination blanketed the room, splashing across the concrete walls.

Two things stood out as unusual. One was the pair of steel doors that made the one they had just passed through look like a mouse hole. The truly monolithic constructs occupied the entire height and almost half the breadth of the opposite wall. And, Jill noted, it was the wall the desk faced. The other... well...

Both Jill and Victor felt their stomachs churn a little at the sight of the pitiable creature near the master console. It looked to have been a blue rat at one point. Both legs, tail, and one arm just ended in stumps that had been stuffed into the vomit-stained business suit. Empty sockets turned to stare at the teens as Victor drew in a sharp breath.

"Who's there? Who are you? Please... please, don't hurt me." The rat gurgled, teeth and chunks of tongue missing from inside its mouth. Even gender was impossible to distinguish.

Even though Victor showed the greatest disturbance at the grotesquely mutilated thing in front of the master console, it was he who approached.

"What happened to my father? Why did you monsters erase him?" The jackal demanded imperiously, colt still in hand.

Jill had suspected a member of the original scientists to be orchestrating some of the recent shifts, but had not been expecting something like this malformed thing.

The sightless face turned to Victor.

"You...you're... you're Wright's boy. I remember you..." The lump succumbed to a fit of phlegm filled coughing. "We all thought he was being self-righteous. Why shouldn't we use it for ourselves? It wasn't my idea to get rid of him. But I didn't object either." Tears poured from the empty sockets. It was hard to tell whether they were from regret or pain. "Why shouldn't we get a reward for everything we had achieved? He was right, after all, about everything. It's funny that in our selfishness we actually spared him all this misery."

Jill and Victor listened as the soul confessed its sins. Slater with cold contempt and disgust, and Wright with outrage and loathing.

"I realized we made a mistake the moment we turned The Wheel. Too many variables unaccounted for. Too many mistakes. So many mistakes. I tried to tell the others, but no one would listen. They wouldn't listen even while they're new lives fell apart. Why? I tried to tell Mister Sable and all he did was give me a new program. It just got worse. Then the variables kept popping up and soon the system couldn't handle it. How?" The rat's ranting pace increased.

Even though there were no eyes to see her, Jill had the unsettling feeling that the rat was looking right at her. The thing pointed an accusatory finger.

"You're the remote access user. Gods above, that's what he was doing. Doctor Wright planned on using remote access after the shift. That was his adjustment. It must have been. Could Sable have... No. No, he can't have known. It must have been Wright. And once the coding was there, it must have resurfaced somewhere else. Wait... no... Wright wrote it in. But he forgot. Hee hee. He forgot! It could have saved him and he forgot! Or maybe he never knew." Laughter turned quickly to sobs as retching heaves wracked the rat's body.

"Mister Sable promised me that doing all this would fix it. That it would set things right. The first wave took my legs. They weren't gone. They just broke off. The more I tried to change the worse it got. I don't know how he did that. What was the harm in us getting some use out of it... How did Sable do that? He promised. He promised! He promised us everything if we did like he said!" The rat began to scream, cursing the name Sable over and over. Soon the scream became a burble however as the mutilated thing went into a seizure.

Bubbles of blood began forming at the rat's mouth before it twitched and slowly went still.

Even as Jill felt like she would lose her lunch, perhaps because she had ironically acquired a greater understanding of the shifts, Victor soldiered on and sat in the chair at the master console and opened up his laptop. He set the colt on the desk with a weighty clunk. For the first time in a long time for Jill, stillness.

In that stillness, she felt a strange compulsion.

(Come to me, my child)

Fascinated, she walked towards the giant doors, being careful to circumvent the rat's body. The closer she got, the larger they loomed. The steel construct was a magnificent feat of engineering truly. Feeling a sort of rumble, she set a hand against the cool steel. Still unable to discern the sensation, she pressed an ear to listen.

Terror enough to make her weep in fright, she could not pull away. (I see you, beautiful thing. Tiny thing. I am the One Who Turns, yet I never move. I have existed, Always, and Never)

A cancerous heartbeat thudded off-tempo from the depths of the machine. In a flash of insight Jill very much believed she could have done without, she understood in the most simple terms what the team of scientists had done. (Little soul, do you see me?) Somehow, they had replaced the functions of sub-atomic particle physics with a machine. Where before it was natural, now it was artificial. Where before it was subject only to quantum law, now it was governed by outside minds. (Or at least they thought they did)

How they had done it perhaps mattered least, for the existence of The Wheel was self-fulfilling. (Was it?) It existed because it had always existed. (Always and Never) But then the creators decided they did not want to have created it, yet still wanted the benefits of having created it. The paradox had been there from the very beginning, and those who thought themselves so clever for having fulfilled the requisite means for the existence of the machine were blinded by their own cleverness (So clever. Do you think you are cleverer?) to the most obvious of contradictions. If they used the machine to alter reality to better benefit themselves and not make the machine, but still need the machine made to perpetuate their more comfortable lives, then The Wheel had to turn without turning.

So it did. (Or do I?)

And as it turned, the paradox festered. Because the contagion had been introduced, by the very laws The Wheel held sovereign, (Growing. Ruling. Feeding. Hungering) the blight had always been there. (Just like it was supposed to be. Dead Yet Unable To Die)

Only Wright had the vision to see it. And now Jill saw it too. (No. You are special, little girl. Tiny, fragile thing. The other had not the true sight. Not like you little thing) She saw the madness in the mind of the machine god. (And you who look unto him shall look back unto you) But she saw something more. (Yes) Something that no one else save perhaps the wretched thing on the floor had seen. (YES) Everyone she met held the belief that things could be reversed somehow, that the world would go back to exactly the way it was before. When she touched the door that could not be opened, Jill knew it not to be true.

(And for that, I love you. I love you, child. Love you like no other can. Always. And Never. And although you do not speak it, you love me too. Do you not, Jill? You alone shall bear my gifts. Though you are but flesh, go with my love, for I shall love you forever)

What was done, could not be undone. The Wheel could only be gone by eliminating every world where it could exist. Those worlds would be forever lost. (Always, and Never.)

Pulling away from the doors with a tearing feeling in the sane bits of her mind, Jill sensed her whole being recoil. A little blood again dripped from her nostrils. Beyond the sealed portal was the machinery that turned The Wheel. It had sounded like any other huge thing made of churning cogs and clinking gears.

Except it sounded sick. Diseased. Malevolent.

(I love you)

Fear for her very soul made Jill run back to the console and set a shake in her limbs that not even the threat of rape had been able to instill. Once there, the feeling faded almost like it had never been, yet, had she not always known it?

Victor hit a couple more keys and stood up from the desk.

"There. It's done. All we have to do now, is wait." The jackal announced in a strangely vengeful, yet worried tone. Perhaps the boy felt vindicated now that all his efforts had come to fruition. Jill stood beside him, not really sure of the victory. Not yet.

But come what may, they would face it together.

A rumble and shrieking steel slowly grew as The Wheel began to turn for the final time.

Jill's questing fingers found Victor's and they embraced. They looked at each other, in their mutual fear and found resolve. A blinding white light came from everywhere and nowhere, engulfing the two. They clenched their eyes shut against the glare and the lovers held each other close.

****/:WARNI)(_NG, IMPUT MAY EXCeereEED WHEELthewheelturnsCONTINUITY VALUES**** ****/:(Goodbye, little thing. Little girl. Little Jill.)**** ****/:EXIGENxeT QUANTUM STATEthewheelturnsWILL BE RESET TO][][ NEGATIVE**** ****/:PROC&54EED? Y/N**** ****/:Y****

****$/n-line#w****

****g/n-line3****

****/n-line****

****/n-line****

The Wheel Turns.

****/end-line****

Jill opened her eyes and saw that they were standing in the same cavernous concrete room, yet noted the blessed quiet. There was no console and no deformed blue rat. And perhaps, most heartening of all, no door, and no Wheel. Gone as if it had never been. The room seemed smaller, and perhaps it was. Victor was looking around in equal wonder.

Hand in hand, the lover's left the place with all its empty promises behind. The elevator only had two buttons, one for the basement, and one for the lobby. Although she held out for hope, Jill was disappointed when there was no Lance Greenfield to greet them. She promised herself to look for him though. There was an overweight guard snoring softly at the desk with a television set playing.

[i]"We interrupt our coverage of the Bowman trials to bring you this press release on the latest development in the case. It appears another fugitive of the [i]massive[/i] murder conspiracy has just been apprehended."[/i]

The teenagers walked past the sleeping security guard and ignored the lyrical voice of the reporter. They walked out of the doors and for a moment, were both blinded by the light of the new day.

"Mister Wright, Miss Slater, over here, if you please." A woman waved to them from a waiting limousine. Dressed sharply in a form-fitting business suit, the green haired human welcomed them over with a smile. "My employer has been waiting to meet you both."

"If you have any questions, feel free to ask. My name, is Melody."

Author's Notes: Whew! I can't believe it's finally over! Finally, I have completed a pretty decent chunk of an arc. I know author's who can churn out that kind of volume in no time, but I'm certainly not one of them. Although, maybe I've kind of dug a hole for myself because this is only part one of technically a three (five) part series thing. I'll let everyone guess about the rest, hehe.

If everyone doesn't mind me saying so, that was quite the coup de gra of a sex scene. That right there is the reason I right porn with plot. There's just something about two characters going at it that you know more about. That's the difference between a random erotic romp and a fanfiction written between two long established characters. In my opinion anyway. It's that reader's familiarity with the characters that gives a sense of attachment that you just don't get otherwise.

Really though, this was a blast from beginning to end, but the ride's not over yet, oh no. We're just pulling over for some gasoline to keep the fires hot. Stay tuned for my next little project:

[i]Salamander[/i]

Until then... /End-line.