Biological Imperitive
Written and as told by Ryu Darragh
The man sitting in the green sculpted chair fidgeted a bit as the doctor seated at the desk opposite looked over his file.
"Well, Doc?" he asked, "Am I in good enough condition for it?"
The doctor put the data pad down and said, "Well, Mr. Marley, everything checks out. I don't see any reason we can't proceed today. Now, I'll need to set up an appointment with the technician and you will need to take the orientation lecture. After that, you can select your own personal library. You can purchase as many mods as you like, but I'd suggest getting two and learning how they work, first."
"Thanks, Doc.", the man replied with a relieved expression, "I've been waiting quite a while for this."
"You're quite welcome, Mr. Marley.", the doctor said. "Now, let's go see the technician..."
As the tall thin man in the pastel green knit shirt followed the doctor out of the small office a video started playing in the next room.
The narrator, a pleasant looking asian woman in a white doctors uniform, is pointing at diagrams and charts as she explains what is being shown.
The Nanorgs, Nano Robotic Organelles, take up residence in every cell in the host body. They, by themselves, are unable to reproduce, which is why we infuse so many into the host. Many will cluster together and form backup caches of Nanorgs to replace those that wear out and to inhabit new cells as they are produced.
The Nanorgs are robots in the sense that they are artificial and are capable of performing tasks under program control. They can direct the host cell to activate or deactivate genes, synthesize new and novel proteins and even change their form. Cells of any type can be changed into any other cell type.
Muscle cells can be cloned from other muscle cells or be created by changing a connective tissue cell into a muscle cell. Cells can even be moved to new locations and changed into a particular type of cell on demand.
All of this is possible because the Nanorgs are powered by ATP, the same chemical that supplies electrochemical power to other organelles, and can communicate using WiFi 801.49N protocol with the host’s central coordinator.
The central coordinator is under direct control of the hosts mind and can upload new mods upon command from any convenient library and execute those mods at will. Each coordinator can store many programs and mods.
The coordinating processor, or CPU, is the same one that was invented several years back when cumbersome cell phones and PDAs were becoming obsolete and mankind started to use the Link to communicate with each other.
Marley sat on his bed and looked at his hands. Long skinny fingers. Clean, if short, fingernails. No real calluses, to speak of.
Not the hands of someone who worked a real manual labor job. Those kinds of backbreaking, callus producing, and yet satisfying jobs were hard to come by.
No. Marley spent his days crawling around inside the bowels of Pratt Whitney FT909 FTL engines looking for what the sensors insisted was there, but could not be found, or taking apart and reassembling finicky little gravity polarizers for family vehicles.
Marley wanted some kind of relief from the boredom. He wanted freedom from the endless ennui of daily existence.
˜Alright, let's do this, he thought, and got up, threw on his jacket and headed for the playground.
When he arrived the others were already waiting. He could see that the others were already either in the shapes they were going to use tonight or were wearing the costumes of choice.
Marley went into the changing room and disrobed. Despite the advances in so many areas, clothing still had to be removed for what was to come.
He cleared his mind and thought the command his CPU was waiting for - "Presto Change-O". A trite, but effective mnemonic.
He could feel his body starting to tingle as the command took effect. He felt momentarily dizzy and remembered the orientation lecture. This was perfectly normal. He could see his eyesight loosing much of its color sense. But, his nose was starting to get more sensitive. A lot more sensitive! He could smell the heavy scent of a highly illegal cigar having been smoked in the room sometime earlier.
His hearing was also going into overdrive. He could hear the others outside speculating on the weather, the event, their wives or lovers. The cost of real estate or the best way to enjoy a coffee and bagel.
His hands started to itch and he noted, with some surprise, that black silky hairs were sprouting from his skin. These were in contrast to the red ones on his arms.. and now his torso! That's when he noticed his manhood. Something looked funny about it. ˜My god!" he thought, ˜the foreskin is bleeding!. Then he noticed, with relief, that it was merely different. More like the inside of his mouth. He touched it with his fingers, now considerably shorter than moments before, and noticed how sensitive it had become. ˜It's getting hard he thought a moment later. Then he realized that it wasnâ't getting hard as if becoming erect. There was a thin something *inside* that was hardening up. ˜Oh, yeah! Now I remember he said to himself, ˜the bone! and slapped his forehead. And felt the claws on his finger tips nearly pierce his skin.
That's when he felt his ability to stand upright leave him. His legs were changing rapidly. His feet had lengthened and his shins and thighs shortened. He felt his chest buckling and felt his arms lose some of their range of motion. He could see his manhood was now retracting into a long fleshy tube attached to his abdomen and covered in silky fine red hair. No, not hair, he remembered. Fur!
His face felt funny and he noticed his nose, now black and wet, was in his field of vision. "Almost done.™ He thought. And, a moment later, there was a soft ˜Bong!™ sound in his mind. His CPU signaling the changes were complete.
He tried to stand upright and fell back. ˜Not easy as it looks. He thought. After a few moments struggle he managed to get to his feet. ˜No,.. paws!™ he corrected himself.
He stood for a moment looking at the huge red fox in the mirror of the changing room. ‘Wow!’ he thought. He looked himself over and noted that he was a handsome canine, for all he was a gangly stick of a male as a human. He bent his head around and looked at his manhood, sniffing it lightly. He gave it a soft lick and thought of the fun he was going to have with that later and grinned a very foxy grin.
˜Well,™ he thought to himself, might as well go out and join the others.
He exited the changing room and saw that the human shaped club members had mounted the backs of the equine shaped club members and the hound shaped members were waiting as well.
This is going to be some night, he realized. It was his first time to be the fox in the clubs weekly fox hunts and he was looking forward to it with an almost savage delight. Some night, indeed. He hoped that that Winifred, the hound who, as a human woman, lived in the apartment above his caught him tonight. Canine sex sounded like it could be a lot of fun.
˜Arraunt, thee! The hunt is on! he sent to the other over the link and turned to run as the hounds started baying and the hunt master started blowing his horn.
˜Next time, I'm going to be one of the stallions."
End.
