Page 18 of Brody
I continued.“My work is completely original and independently verified by multiple research institutions.The OIA has reviewed every aspect of my methodology to confirm its originality.”
“Yeah, but what about the alien supersoldiers?”a man in a tinfoil hat shouted from the back of the room.He stood up, revealing a T-shirt that readThe Truth Is Way Out There, Like Way WAY Out There.“My cousin’s friend works at a Dhahabu lab and says they’re breeding human-alien hybrids for the government.I’ve been saying it for years!That’s why I keep my thoughts protected.”He tapped his tinfoil hat knowingly.
A ripple of nervous laughter went through the crowd.I blinked, momentarily speechless.
“Sit down, Chester!”called a woman beside him who was knitting what looked like either a very long scarf or a very thin blanket, her needles clicking at supernatural speed while her eyes never left my face.“We all know your cousin’s friend is your imaginary hiking buddy.”
“He’s real,” Chester protested.“Just because you can’t see him doesn’t mean he’s not there!Some beings exist on different vibrational planes.”
“The only vibrational plane you’re on is the one powered by those batteries you buy in bulk from my shop,” she shot back, causing several nearby shifters to choke on their laughter.
“Seriously?”I said, unable to keep the incredulity from my voice.“Alien supersoldiers?That’s what we’re going with?”
“Well, it makes more sense than trusting Big Pharma,” Chester called back defensively.“At least the aliens are honest about wanting to probe us!”
An elderly man behind him whacked him gently with his cane.“Chester, for the love of everything, we have a guest.Save your probing stories for Conspiracy Club Tuesdays.”
“That’s enough,” Quinn said, though I noticed him fighting back a smile as Chester reluctantly sat down, adjusting his tinfoil hat with wounded dignity.“The Conspiracy Club meets at the library at seven, Doctor,” he whispered loudly to me with a conspiratorial wink.“Bring your own tinfoil.”
“The council has a right to know exactly what chemicals you plan to inject into our citizens,” Gertrude said.“For all we know, these ‘neural stabilizers’ could be designed to make our unmated males easier for outsiders to control.”
“My treatment contains no mind-controlling substances,” I replied evenly, meeting her gaze.“The high-level overview of the formula ingredients is spelled out in the dossier I provided to the town council.As for chemicals, I’d remind the council that everything, including the air we breathe and the water we drink, is made of chemicals.”
“I’ve reviewed your methodology, Dr.Dhahabu,” Isabella said.“Your approach is sound.My question is about implementation.How soon could you begin treatment for our affected males?”
“ASAP,” I replied.“Quinn has told me that he’s collecting the names of the males who are interested in taking part in my research.”
“And I’d like to know if hybrid shifters respond differently than pure bloodlines to your treatment?”Bonnie asked.
“That’s inconclusive,” I said.
“Your pre-feral elixir approach fascinates me,” Freya said.“Particularly how it simulates the calming effect of a mate bond until the real thing can be found.As the one who cast the mating spell, I can tell you we’re running out of time.Despite my efforts to call fated mates to the Ridge, they simply aren’t arriving quickly enough.We need your solution to bridge the gap until more mates can be found.”
Her open support seemed to ripple through the room, shifting the energy.I noticed several audience members nodding in agreement.Having the witch who cast the mating spell acknowledge its limitations and support a scientific alternative clearly carried weight.
“Traditional methods offer proven options,” Brody said, his clinical tone betraying nothing of the tension humming between us.“My family’s brewing techniques have shown promise in managing symptoms without eliminating shifting ability.”
I turned to face him, letting ice coat every word.“Your family remedies might work, but without proper testing, who knows why?But I guess not everyone cares about proving things work.”
The barb hit home.His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
“Perhaps Dr.Dhahabu would benefit from understanding local treatments before dismissing them,” he replied with matching coolness.
Oh, you want to play this game?
“I’m always interested in primitive approaches,” I said.“Historical curiosities can provide useful baseline data.”
Something flashed in his eyes, a brief flicker of something that wasn’t quite human, before he forced them back to normal.The reaction was so quick I almost missed it.
Around us, the audience sensed blood in the water.Heads turned between us like spectators at a tennis match, following an exchange that had nothing to do with medical research and everything to do with old wounds.
I was about to continue my presentation when chaos erupted at the side of the room.
People scrambled away as a man staggered into the center aisle, his body convulsing in what was clearly a partial shift gone terribly wrong.
“Logan!”someone shouted.
His body shifted between human and cheetah form, skin stretching and contracting as his biology fought itself.One arm had fully shifted, deadly claws extended.His face was a grotesque blend of human and feline features, one eye brown, one vivid gold.Blood dripped where his teeth had punctured his own lip.
