Specific Tale: A Girl With a Tail

[Arc]

This is the main character that I've thoght of durring the conception of the D20 Futures setting I'm working on.

Insofar, she has no name, and its not for the lack of effort. She'll get one eventaully.

I forgot to mention: this will be updated from time to time, so stay tuned.

The heroine's name is Aero Sma DeAnafire.

[Arc]

A scalpel makes a slight tinking noise against a glass dish. The effects of this action will be felt by several multitrillion dollar cmpanies, three interstellar governments, and probably over a million single human beings.

The scalpel tinks again, and the small sample of human hair is in an appropriate size for the process now. The man in the lab coat uses a very fine forceps to pick a small unassuming peice of hair out of the dish and place it in the tube. The tube he uses to insert the hair into a DNA extraction device, which in turn spends several days dealing with the hair.

Fate is already sealed. The problem is no one knows what it is. No matter what happens, you can always look back and say "Yep, everything in the univers has happened so that right now, I can stand/sit her and think, everything in the universe has happened so that I can..." and so on. At this point, this scientist has no idea the reprocussions of his actions.

Three days later, the machine spits out a thumb sized card, made of acryllic crystal, containing approxamately six times ten to the ninth BP of information about a specific human being.

That very scientist has two thoughts, almost simmultaneously. The first (by about eight nanoseconds) is what he could do with the information in his hand. The second is what would happen, if he were to do this.

It is at this point that he has begun contemplate the reactions of his colleagues. But then again, he's not in a correct state of mind to care much what they would have to say about his ethics. The card is the only thing on his mind. And that is what made him dangerous.

[Arc]

It wasn't long before his thoughts became out of control. It started as a few small modifications; resistances to genetic diseases, increaced possible life span, specified physical traits and such.

He kept going. he expanded mental capability. He increaced muscular control. He inserted genetic code containing instinct and grace. He then gently sculped her physical form slightly. He adjusted her propensity for good posture.

He added code for more perfect teeth. Then he lengthened the canines to a small bit. He then took code from cats and lizards... and he gave the code a tail.

The final addition he made to the genetic code on his sample card was the most difficult. He had spent over five months working on this creation. Five months of some of the most intensive genetic study and investigation of all time, invested in one single being.

Finally, he adjusted her ability brain's ability to react to danger and control her muscles. This seemingly small adjustment took the scientist, who's intelligence quotient had been rated at 142, seven more months.

An entire year later, he took the chip he had invested so much money in and wrote on it a name. Some months later, that name would be synonomous with scandal.

He named her Aero Sma DeAnafire. He named her Aero for the air, the only thing that would be able to catch her. He named her Sma in honor of the woman he loved, who died in his arms, a sniper's bullet lodged in the base of her neck.

He named her DeAnafire on a whim, taking it mainly from the unborn child he had lost.

He placed the chip in a card reader. The reader gave him the estimate "fifteen months." and whirred to life. He gave the lab, a giant autonomous facility, the overriding command of protection of the card and the execution of its contents. He sat down at his desk with a syringe in one hand, and his resignation in the other. He looked up at his computer, distastefully. He set his items down and slipped his hands under the monitor and lifted it over his head with some effort. He threw it off to the side with all his might, rocking the chair sideways. He picked up the small box that held the files and ripped the cords from the back of it. He held it upright. The scientist poured his last cup of coffee down the vents in the back of the box and threw it at the wall. He barely heard it land.

The police find his body in the same seat, slumped over the table, papers gripped tightly in one dead hand. The syringe of engineered supervirus empty. They panic. Some look back at the cleanroom airlock doors, wide open. Others cover their mouths, in a futile attempt to prevent contamination. One simply walks over to the man, taking the papers. He leans over the dead man, and presses the airlock door lockout button. He places the papers against the glass wall so that the next investigators will see them from outside.

He turns to his compatriots. They look agast. Some are angry. Other want to call their families. They fight.

Eventually the whole process has claimed seven lives. Lady Laerin Sma, Grand Diplomat of Sol System; Doctor Arcken DeCouredes, lead Genetic Researcher of Quantumsoft's Genetic Influence project; Investigator Parish Don Ranseur; Officer Arnold Hamean; Officer Kerl Jesop; Officer Richmond Ech; and Officer Mae No Jiong.

Three days after that event, when the lab islolated for inspection, Cheif Forensic Scientist Luc Van Croix violates NATO inpection codes and steps past the decontamination zone fifteen seconds before the disolvent bath is complete.

Luc Van Croix is accused and brought to trial for the death of seven hundred thousand human lives. He dies durring the proceedings. The whole situation is cause to quarantine a massive portion of France and several neighbors.

The event is called the Sma/DeCouredes/van Croix Incedent, or the Aero Sma Scandle. In the commotion, Aero Sma DeAnafire is misunderstood as an instigator who planted the virus. She, however, is not born until a year and a half later, in secret.