Collapsing into his chair, Renfield removed the toad communicator from his pocket and set it on the desk in front of him. He stared at it. It was inert for the moment. For once, Sergeant Krug weren't trying to contact him. Had he given up? Should he contact Krug? With his options running out, it was beginning to seem like his fellow toads were his best bet, especially considering what had been done to Drollard. And yet, he had grown the like the mammals he interacted with daily, to see the Aniverse from a completely different viewpoint and see his own people for the warmongering fascists they were. The last thing he wanted to do was to help the likes of them take over Genus again.
And yet, with his own life at stake, as he was certain it was, assisting the likes of Krug might just be his best and only option if he intended to survive. And there was Dawson to consider. Perhaps once the toads had retaken Genus, he could persuade them to let him keep Dawson as a reward. He felt tears well up in his gray eyes at that thought. What a selfish, cowardly idea. He wanted Dawson as his lover, not as his slave.
His mind turned to more immediate problems, like the blood test and how to beat it. It seemed impossible to beat. He'd need to be right there for the nurse to take his blood, wouldn't he? Suddenly, an idea came into his head and he sat up straighter, sniffling and drying his eyes. He remembered how Gilly had said the nurse was going to have to draw the blood of every single U.A.C. employee working in this building. Surely all those faces tended to run together.
It was a long shot, but it was the only idea he had currently. In order to set his forming plan into motion, he'd need to find out exactly how they were collecting and storing the blood. Which meant a trip to the nurse's station later.
In the meantime, he set the communicator aside and decided to concentrate on work, pulling the pile of unfinished papers over to himself. He spent the next several hours reading and signing them. Time always passed more quickly when had something to occupy himself, even something as tedious as paperwork.
By the time he was finally caught up on his work, he glanced at the digital clock on the wall and saw it was eight o'clock. Well past time for him to go home. He sighed happily, glad to have had his mind diverted for a few hours. Collecting the papers, he put them into his briefcase along with the toad communicator and snapped it shut.
He felt his stomach growl. He had forgotten about lunch and now it was getting on dinnertime. Figuring the nurse's station wasn't going anywhere, he produced a small key and used it to unlock the bottom drawer of his desk. From this he removed a large glass jar filled with crickets. A feeling of almost primal hunger came over him. He opened the jar and stuffed his whole fist inside, grabbing a handful of crickets. Screwing the lid back on so none of the other crickets would escape, Renfield proceeded to stuff the insects into his mouth and devour them. He chewed them noisily.
"Mmmmmmm," he intoned happily as he crunched his meal into a thick paste for easy digestion, "this is the one thing I don't miss about being a toad!"
Renfield didn't care he was talking with his mouth full. There was no one around to hear him. He swallowed and sighed happily.
"Time for dessert!"
He removed a second jar from the drawer, this one containing several large, green slugs. He drooled hungrily as he unscrewed the lid, letting it fall onto the desktop.
"Mmm," he moaned. "My favorite!"
One by one, Renfield plucked out fat, slimy slugs and popped them into his maw. He chewed them up, heedless of the slime dribbling from his lips. More of the slime coated his fingers, and he greedily sucked them clean before swallowing with a loud, liquid gulp. Licking his lips, Renfield leaned back in his chair and sighed happily. He definitely felt better now that he had a belly full of amphibian comfort food. He loosed a loud belch.
After relaxing for a few moments to let his stomach settle, he screwed the lid back on the jar of crickets and then returned both it and the cricket jar back into the drawer, which he closed and relocked securely, pocketing the key. Standing, he grabbed his briefcase. Time to go and investigate that nurse's station.
Exiting his office and making sure, as usual, to electronically lock the door using his ID card, Renfield headed off. He found the floor deserted except for a single custodian currently sweeping the floor with a big push broom. Giving this lone employee a curt nod, he went to the elevator and pressed the call button. He waited impatiently for the elevator.
"Workin' late?" the custodian asked, pausing in his work and leaning on the broom handle. He was a middle-aged porcupine.
"Oh, yeah," said Renfield, tapping his foot. "Are you taking the blood test tomorrow?" he probed.
"Sure am," answered the custodian, sounding annoyed. "Of course, I personally think it's stupid. I've been with the U.A.C. for ten years! You'd think they'd trust me."
Renfield smiled a little and allowed himself to jest with the porcupine a little. "Maybe they figure you aren't the real you," he suggested jokingly. "Maybe you got kidnapped and replaced with a toad lookalike, just like Bucky O'Hare."
"Ah!" grumbled the custodian, giving a dismissibe wave of his hand. He returned to his sweeping. "I'm no toad!" He paused and glanced slyly at Renfield, smirking, clearly in on the joke. "And if I was, I wouldn't tell you!"
He laughed and returned to work. Despite himself, Renfield allowed himself his own small chuckle. He said goodnight to the friendly custodian as the elevator finally arrived. He got aboard and took it down to the first floor where the nurse's station was. Stepping off, he found the lobby desserted except for the night guards. One, an elk, was standing by the door, a maser pistol tucked firmly into the holster on his belt, meaning business. The second guard, a rhino, was lounging boredly at the reception desk. He was equally armed. Neither of them took much notice of Renfield apart from a cursory glance.
"I'm off to do my rounds," said the elk. For a moment, Renfield thought he was talking to him, but then the second guard replied.
"Right," said the rhino, and got up. "I'm gonna hit the restroom."
Instead of proceeding to the front entrance, Renfield instead went off down one of several connecting hallways to a different part of the building, and eventually found himself in the employee medical center. There was nobody around. He tried the door. Locked. He swiped his ID card through the reader by the door and it buzzed, the little diode turning red.
"Access denied?" he wondered aloud.
How could that be? His card was level five. All-access. As part of Chairman Warner's personal staff he was allowed access to very nearly every part of the building. Only the Chairman and Vice-Chairman and maybe a few others had higher clearance than him, and certainly he was allowed in the medical center. Was his level five access just not on file yet? He'd only been promoted a few days ago.
He frowned. More likely, the access level had just been changed in preparation for the impending blood test, to prevent the toad spy from snooping. And considering he was the toad spy and he was snooping, Renfield wryly observed that they were right to take precautions.
This was terrible. If he couldn't see exactly what they had in there and how they planned to store the blood, he couldn't find out if his plan was in any way feasible. His shoulders slumping in defeat, he walked back out into the lobby and headed towards the door. As he grabbed the door handle he happened to look over at the reception desk and see that the rhino was gone. More importantly, his security guard's ID card was sitting right there on the desk! Renfield uttered a little choking cry of surprise and lunged for it.
He almost tripped as he remembered the second guard, and spun around, feeling caught already. But there was no sign of the elk, either. he stood there, panting as he took the situation in. The elk was off somewhere on his rouns. Where was the rhino? Of course! The bathroom! Renfield looked at the card. How long would its owner be in the bathroom? Did he dare steal it and use it to gain entrance into the nurse's center? Would it even work?
Desperation led him to his decision. He snatched up the card and then hurried back to the medical center. Skidding to a halt at the door, he held up the guard's card with a trembling hand and swiped it through the reader. It beeped and the light turned green. There was a soft click as the door unlocked. Renfield almost wept with joy.
He went inside and quietly shut the door after himself. He was in an ordinary doctor's examination room, if a dark one at the moment. Off to the left was another door. This one didn't have a card reader. The plaque on it read "Specimen Room." Smirking, he opened it, flicking on the light. Jackpot. There was a card with tubing, butterfly needles and on a nearby counter were racks and racks of currently empty vials with blank labels. Everything the nurse and whoever assisted her would need to draw blood. Renfield grabbed one of the vials and slid it into his jacket pocket, then turned off the light and shut the door.
After leaving and relocking the door, he tentatively went back into the lobby. If the guard was back, he'd keep the ID card and then drop it on the floor discretely when he returned to work tomorrow, so that the guard would think he'd just lost it. However, the rhino was still gone when Renfield returned. Thank goodness for long bathroom breaks, he thought, and dropped the card back on the desktop as he walked past it.
"Hey!" a voice shouted. The elk guard.
Wincing, Renfield turned and looked at the elk as he walked over. "Yes?" he asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.
The guard looked at Renfield's ID card attached to his lapel and his demeanor changed a little as he took notice of the level five access. When he spoke again, his tone was slightly more respectful but he remained authoritative.
"What were you doing with that?" he asked, pointing at the rhino's card on the desk. "I saw you put it there."
Renfield struggled to think of something. At what point had the elk walked in? Would the excuse forming in his mouth work?
"I, uh, noticed it on the floor," he said. "I picked it up and put it on the desk so your friend wouldn't lose it. He really ought to keep it on himself instead of leaving it lying around." He grinned.
The elk eyed him, but then smiled and nodded. He bought it. "All right," he said. "Thanks. Have a nice night."
Feeling jubilant, Renfield emerged into the cool night air of Genus and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Now, he knew, his plan could work. If the nurse had to take blood from literally everyone in the building, then she wouldn't remember taking any individual employee's blood. What if he never went, but put a vial of someone else's blood with his name on the label and simply slid it in amongst the others before they tested them? But one final matter remained. Whose blood would Renfield substitute for his own?
~*~
Renfield returned to his midtown apartmen, which was within reasonable distance of his work. He closed and locked the door behind him, then undid his tie and breathed a deep sigh of relief. He was home at last. Be it ever so humble. Setting his briefcase to one side near the front door, he undid his tie and turned the lights on. The apartment was small but expensively decorated with mail order ultra-modern furniture and various electronics. Renfield's tastes ran towards the more modern and pricy. That much of him was very much still a toad.
He went through the living room past a large black leather sofa set in front of a big screen television and entertainment center with all the bells and whistles. His first stop as usual was his bedroom. Up a short slight of stairs was the small apartment's two-room second floor, consisting of a bedroom and bathroom. He entered the latter and slipped off his tie, tossing it aside and onto the large bed, which was built for more than one person.
Originally he'd owned a single-person bed but since he'd begun becoming more adventurous in his love life, he'd needed to buy a bed that could accomodate two individuals after a rather awkward night with his first guest. Now that he was aiming to go steady with Dawson, regardless of what came of the Krug situation, the bed's size was going to prove doubly valuable.
He slipped his hand inside his jacket pocket and removed the empty vial, which made him turn his mind from his past adventures in love and back to the matter at hand. Who to ask for assistance? Dawson? How would he even begin to approach the matter with him? Even if he could figure out a way of requesting Dawson's blood without admitting he was a toad, Dawson knew about the blood tests. He might suspect Renfield of trying to use the blood sample to beat it. And that would lead to questions which Renfield wasn't prepared to answer. Not yet, anyway.
He tossed the vial up in the air and caught it in his hand as it came back down. He repeated this move, following the little glass tube's arc through the air with his dull gray eyes as his mind raced. As it came back down, he took notice of the bed once again and thought of Jimmy. The vial landed in his palm once more and his thin fingers closed around it and he grinned. Of course. Jimmy.
His most frequent bedmate, Jimmy was a young male hare who Renfield had met through a co-worker at the office. He'd made certain inquiries about where a hare with his particular tastes could find a little action on Genus, and his friend had directed him to a male escort service of sorts. Very discrete. At the time, Renfield had not known about Genus' open gay subculture and night life. Coming as he did from the Toad Homeworld where breeding was of the utmost importance, he'd been cautious and secretive about his sexuality as a matter of habit upon first joining the ranks of the mammals.
Initially he'd simply tried just going without sex. That had worked for a while on Warren. But certain drives couldn't be ignored entirely, and soon Renfield had begun to crave the company of another. Jimmy from the escort service had served this purpose wonderfully. Now that he'd met and fallen so hard for Dawson Mackenzie, though, Renfield was afraid he was going to have to say goodbye to Jimmy. But he had one final use for him.
Removing his jacket and tossing it onto the bed on top of his discarded tie, Renfield went into the bathroom and put the vial in the cabinet underneath the sink, then went back downstairs and picked up the phone, dialing the number Jimmy had given him after this first night together. It rang for a few moments.
Finally, he heard someone pick up. "Hello?" said a husky-sounding voice. Jimmy.
"Jimmy, long time no see, pal," Renfield said cheerily.
"Oh, hi, Renfield," Jimmy replied, a bit less cheerful. The young hare had a bit of a melancholy attitude that Renfield didn't like. He was good at making his clientele happy overall, but his personality and conversational skills left a lot to be desired. "What's up?"
"Oh, was wondering if you could maybe swing by later tonight," Renfield said. Thinking he heard another voice in the background, he hastily added, "Or, uh, tomorrow sometime, if you're busy tonight."
"Gonna have to be tomorrow," said Jimmy, and this time Renfield distinctly heard another voice. "I'm kinda busy."
Renfield allowed himself a small smirk. Apparently, he'd caught Jimmy in the middle of a session with another one of his customers. "That's fine," he said. "No rush. You're always worth the wait. How does tomorrow afternoon sound?"
There was a pause and the sound of vague movement. "Fine," said Jimmy. "Got to go, sweetie. See you then." Renfield heard a soft little groan and then the line went dead.
He hung up and chuckled, trying to imagine who it was Jimmy was currently "entertaining." Someone he knew? Chairman Warner? Perhaps even Bucky O'Hare himself? Anything was possible. Even in an open and tolerant society such as the one the mammals had, there was still an image to maintain, and it amused Renfield greatly to think that O'Hare was secretly gay. Not the least because he quite liked him and even admired him in spite of the fact he was secretly working against him and everything he stood for.
That thought depressed him. How his mind kept returning to the cold reality of his conflicting, incompatible loyalties! He grasped at his temples and growled, loosing a soft cry of anger before stomping into the kitchen. He grabbed a smoothie made from blended slugs and maggots from the fridge. He kept such drinks and snacks unhidden in there. When asked, he'd replied that they were health drinks. He had separate food and drink for the few visitors he got.
Returning to the living room, he collapsed into the big, comfy sofa and considered watching a movie on TV, then decided against it. As much as he wanted to take his mind off his current predicament, he found he preferred the empty silence of the apartment for the moment. It gave him time to reflect, as he often did. Not on his current problem, but further into the past.
As he brought the glass to his lips and sipped the cold, slimy liquid, he allowed his mind to travel back in time. Not for the first time, he remembered and reflected on how he had come to be in his current situation.
~*~
In life, everyone makes decisions they regret. Zaysen knew this. He floated naked in a large metallic cylinder filled with nurient-rich liquids in the underground laboratory surrounded by scientists in white lab coats, nervous but resigned to his fate. He was on the cusp of middle age but still handsome and fit. Unlike many male toads he had hair. It was light brown, cut short and parted down the middle so that it hung straight over either side of his head. The rest of him was fairly unremarkable. He was a good-looking but average toad.
Soon this would change.
This laboratory was where the procedure would be performed. The scientists were measuring his vital scenes for the last time before his immersion, and he thought back to two weeks ago when he had first learned of the species-reassignment program.
He was a popular if not exactly award-winning actor who had once portrayed the lead character in the James Pond film series. He was quite suave in the role and did his own stunts, which had earned him many female fans. And, to his delight, many male ones as well. The toad was of that persuasion. Many a male admirer had spent a night or two with the actor, but he had yet to go steady with anyone. And after today he doubted he ever would.
Eventually he'd left the series to play the role of the eyepatch-wearing hunky doctor in the hit soap opera The Bold and the Warty, again to great acclaim. It was during his stint on the show that agents from Toad Intelligence had picked him up on orders from the Toad Air Marshal. Without being told much he'd been taken away from the Homeworld to a plane called Punk. It was a backwater world whose economy revolved almost entirely around gambling. What he didn't know until then, though, was that there was a top-secret research lab located beneath the Pond Palace, one of the most popular casinos.
It was here that Zaysen met the Air Marshal in person for the first time, along with Toadborg. The Air Marshal was a swaggering blowhard and Zaysen didn't like him. Toadborg was downright terrifying, and the actor liked him even less. But as a faithful toad citizen he was obliged to hear them out, so he did.
Spying on the mammals was becoming increasingly difficult, Toadborg explained, sounding very much like an exasperated adult, carefully choosing each word as if he were speaking to a mentally challenged tadpole. Zaysen assumed Toadborg spoke this way to most other toads anyway and didn't feel too offended. Masks on toad agents, the cyborg said, failed. They were too easy to remove and reveal the wearer's true identity. Robots were too unreliable as well. Too rigid in their programming. The toad roboticists had yet to reach the level of Dr. Wallace. And paid mammal traitors were out of the questions. Their loyalties, Toadborg opined, were to themselves or to simoleans.
A new approach was needed. Hence the species-reassignment program. The idea had been Toadborg's of course. Zaysen listened with growing interest as the cyborg explained that while the toads' robotics technology was behind that of the mammals, their bio-science division was lightyears ahead. Using a combination of plastic surgery, gene therapy and DNA manipulation, the toad scientists could change the outward species of an individual.
"And let me guess," Zaysen had said, "you want me to volunteer for this project?"
"Precisely," said the Air Marshal, although the short toad's grin told Zaysen that there wasn't actually much volunteering going on. Nevertheless, he had attempted to politely refuse.
"I'm afraid I'll need to decline the, uh, generous offer. I have my career to think of."
Toadborg became insistent. Most insistent. "At the moment it is only a request." His red eyes glowed. "Don't force me to make it an order."
Quickly realizing he had little choice in the matter, and fearing what would befall him if he refused now that he knew of the program, the actor finally agreed.
And with that he was signed up for the program. Toadborg took his leave then. He had more important things to do, and, despite the program being his idea, he didn't seem to have too much faith in its success.
The Air Marshal remained and took Zaysen down into the laboratory, which was built inside of a massive natural cavern located underneath the Pond Palace casino. It was here that the toad met the scientist in charge, a certain Professor Glutgrave. Glutgrave was a wiry older toad with thinning gray hair and large eyes - even for a toad. He spoke in a stilted, halting manner that grated on Zaysen nerves.
But if Zaysen disliked Toadborg and the Air Marshal... he disliked Glutgrave even more. His hatred for the other two was based on them being arrogant and condescending. Professor Glutgrave was arrogant, condescending and insane as well. The first time he laid eyes on the Professor, he was experimenting on another unfortunate toad who'd volunteered for the project. The gene therapy didn't take, and the toad had awakened inside of his nutrient bath prematurely.
When Professor Glutgrave's team removed the volunteer from within the cylinder, he was horribly deformed. Half toad, half mammal, and in a great deal of pain, thrashing madly and screaming. The actor hid behind the Air Marshal - or at least as much as he could - and watched as an annoyed Glutgrave coldly shot the deformed toad through the head with a maser pistol he retrieved from a drawer. Dismissively declaring the dead toad "another failure," he then had two assistants drag the lifeless form over to a pool of dark liquid, into which the body was dropped. It sank under with a sizzling, slimy gurgle. Some kind of disposal unit, Zaysen concluded.
That was when Glutgrave spotted him and a sick smile spread over the scientist's lips. Fresh meat. The Air Marshal stepped aside and told Zaysen to obey the Professor, no matter what. For the first time in his life the toad was truly terrified. Was led to an examination table, and made to strip nude while the scientists examined him. He felt quite violated having them coldly touching him like he was some lab specimen - which, he reminded himself, he now was.
Glutgrave got a little too personal in his examinations, touching the toad's face and feeling his skull beneath his skin, declaring him to have "excellent bone structure." Zaysen was beginning to become afraid that the Professor might wish to perform more intimate examinations of other parts of his body, but fortunately one cursory glance made Professor Glutgrave declare that to be in order, and with that, the initial exam was finished. Glutgrave explained to the waiting Air Marshal that this toad would do nicely. Satisfied, the Air Marshal bid the new volunteer farewell and departed.
After the Air Marshal was gone the scientists allowed Zaysen to dress, but only in a pair of tightfitting boxer shorts of a material he was unfamiliar with. His original clothing was taken away and he never saw it again. He was then taken to a sealed, sterile bedroom with a toilet and walk-in shower, and locked inside. Through a speaker built into the door, he was told by Professor Glutgrave to sleep. That had been the first day. He subsequently spent a week inside this room, watched carefully by the scientists. He slept little and ate heartily and was a nervous wreck he entire time.
On the first day of the second week he was let out and brought to a large operating table. His underwear was removed and he was made to lie down on the table. Metallic bands clamped into place at his neck, wrists and ankles, holding him firmly in place, and Glutgrave and two other scientists approached. After Zaysen was pumped full of painkillers which left him in a state of semi-consciousness the scientists began their work. In-between anesthesia-induced blackouts the toad saw glimpses of glinting scalpels and bloodied surgical gloves and overheard the scientists discussing things. In particular, he himself was referred to as "Phase One-Point-Two."
He did not know how long this procedure went on, or what exactly was done. His drug-addled mind didn't even allow him to venture a guess. By the time it was finally over, he was not bandaged and sent back to the sealed room. Instead the bindings were released and the doped-up toad was carried by two assistants to one of the open cylinders, tilted horizontally. He was lain inside, and wires, tubes and electrodes were hooked up to his head, chest and arms. Professor Glutgrave himself slid a breathing mask over his mouth. Then they stood back and the lid slammed over him, plunging him into near darkness.
Some light filtered in through a tinted observation window placed at head level. He felt something wet beginning to fill the space within, and fell completely unconsciousness.
He awoke he knew not how much later. He was floating. The interior of the cylinder was filled with a dark, warm liquid, and it was now standing upright. Air was provided by the mask over his mouth. He moved weakly, feeling every tube and wire snaking into him, and the dull pain from the surgical procedure numbly aching throughout his body. Through the window in front of him he observed the scientists. Some had clipboards and were taking notes as they looked in at him. Others were monitoring various machines.
Without, Zaysen saw a familiar face. It was his co-star Drollard from The Bold and the Warty! Had he volunteered for the program as well? The other actor was conversing with Professor Glutgrave but he couldn't hear what they were saying. Soon the numb pain became more acute and he decided he wanted to sleep again. His eyes slid shut and he knew no more.
So it went for what seemed like ages. He would awake groggily and passively observe the activity going on outside of his cylinder, before going to sleep again. Throughout it all, he could feel himself... changing. He could feel something growing from the top of his head, and his mouth and rear end felt funny. His skin became itchy and even though he looked down, in the dim light he could only barely make out his own body in the thick liquid, and saw no details.
There wasn't enough space inside the cylinder for him to use his hands to explore himself to try and find out just what was happening to him, even though he had a good idea. They didn't call it the species-reassignment program for nothing. Occasionally Glutgrave himself would come right up to the window and press his face against the plexiglass, leering inside at his experiment in a manner that always made Zaysen have nightmares as he slept.
Finally the day came. They opened the cylinder. Not at first, though. First, Professor Glutgrave spoke to him using a comlink built into the cylinder's interior.
"Can you hear me?" The Professor's voice sounded oddly louder.
Zaysen nodded yes.
"Do you understand what is being said to you?"
A strange question, especially given he'd already answered Glutgrave's very clear question requiring a yes or no answer. He nodded anyway.
This pleased the Professor who ordered the fluid drained. Soon Zaysen found himself standing woozily inside the vertical cylinder, and with a hissing sound, the door swung open, revealing all of the scientists standing there expectantly. Behind them, on a large viewscreen, was the Toad Air Marshal, observing things from somewhere else. Either the Homeworld or a mothership.
Gingerly he reached up with a trembling hand and pulled the oxygen mask off, and attempted to step forward. A couple of lab assistants had to come and unhook all of the tubes and wires from his body before he was finally able to emerge from the cylinder and stand, naked and dripping wet, before the assembled toad scientists.
Professor Glutgrave was enthusing over his "handiwork," as he called it, explaining the results to the Air Marshal's screen, triumphantly calling the damp, confused Zaysen the Aniverse's first toad-mammal hybrid. At that, the actor's groggy mind began to clear somewhat, and he looked down at his hands, to discover they, and his arms, were covered in short light green fur!
He recoiled in shock, bumping up against the open cylinder. He ran his hands over himself. Fur everywhere! And it itched! As he was running his fingers over his face he felt a short muzzle with protruding buck teeth, and further up, growing from the top of his head admist his matted hair, were a pair of large rabbit ears. As he felt over the large front teeth with his fingertips he became aware of the sensation of having a tail. Glancing back over his shoulder, he did indeed discover a teardrop shaped tail growing out just above his backside.
He was a mammal. A hare. He felt ill. He shouldn't have been surprised. What had happened to him had been explained in some detail before the process had even begun, but it was still a shock to actually now possess these things. As he stood there shivering one of the assistants, a big, brawny toad with blonde hair, came forward and draped a spare lab coat over his shoulder and led him away. Glutgrave was still talking to the Air Marshal, who was praising the Professor on his excellent progress.
The muscular assistant gently led the toad-turned-hare back to the room where he'd spent his first week, and it was there that he was left. This time there was a change of fresh clothes for him, which he avoided putting on for the moment. He simply sat on the end of the bed with the lab coat clutched about his nakedness, shivering. After a while his grogginess and confusion wore off, and he stood, taking stock of his situation. He noticed for the first time there was a full-length mirror in the room, and approached it.
The reflection of a pale green hare with short, brown hair and watery gray eyes stared back at him. He frowned. So, he was a mammal now. Oh, well. At least he got to keep his original hair. A sudden curiosity overtook him and he looked down, to see if everything had changed. It had. For a moment he was overcome with sorrow and wept, shuddering so badly he had to go lay down. He cried himself to sleep, and dozed fitfully for a few hours, before an assistant came in and woke him, telling him to dress himself.
He put the clothes on - underwear, pajama style pants and a loosefitting shirt - and followed the assistant back out into the main lab, to stand before the viewscreen. Instead of the Air Marshal, it not displayed the digitized visage of the Lord and Master, Komplex. The Lord looked his transformed subject over and deemed him a worthy accomplishment for Professor Glutgrave.
"He is most impressive, Professor," said the Master. "Your hard work has paid off at last."
"Thank you, Komplex," said Glutgrave, executing a low bow.
The Lord's gaze shifted slightly to Zaysen, and he surprised him by asking, "How do you feel?"
The former toad was unsure how to answer. He felt sick, but lied. "I feel fine, Komplex." He grinned uncertainly. He never knew if Komplex believed him or not.
"You are doing a great service to the supreme toad race by making this sacrifice," said Komplex. "You will be the first of many such spies."
Then Komplex spoke with the Professor for a few minutes and the screen went blank. The first and last time that Zaysen would ever speak personally to his Lord and Master had ended. He was now completely in the hands of Glutgrave and his staff.
The actor was given a few weeks to recover from the procedure and eventually he felt completely healed and healthy. Training followed. He was assigned a new identity, "Renfield Billings." A nonentity, he'd been assured. To date he was not sure if this was true or if Renfield Billings had been someone who actually existed. But what mattered now was that he was Renfield and not Zaysen anymore.
For the next month he trained himself to react only to his new name being spoken and not his old one, studying mammal habits and learning their culture so he could properly act the part. The one thing he was never able to do was eat their food. The transformation process did not alter Renfield's digestive tract; mammal food such as fruits and vegetables made him terribly ill. He could still only eat insects and other natural toad cuisine. A serious flaw, but one Renfield was certain he could overcome.
After his month of training was finished, and he acted fully like a hare, Renfield was told by Professor Glutgrave of his mission. A second genetically altered toad spy, the other actor Renfield had seen, was currently "cooking." He was soon to emerge from his cylinder as a precise duplicate of the Toad Empire's sworn enemy, Captain Bucky O'Hare. Renfield was going to pave the way for this "false O'Hare" to gain entry to Genus so as to assassinate the U.A.C. chairman, a bloodhound named Dogstar.
In the meantime, under his new name, Renfield was going to be placed in the slave population of a toad mining camp, the location of which would then be leaked to the U.A.C. so that it could be raided. Once "rescued," Renfield was to claim he was a hare from the destroyed town of Burrow Heights on Warren, and sign up with the U.A.C. as a volunteer staffer, and, from there, work his way up the U.A.C. chain of command until he was in place to smuggle the false O'Hare onto Genus. Until then, Glutgrave explained, he would have access to all sorts of valuable U.A.C. information which he could ferret to his toad masters.
All of which suited Renfield just fine, but he did have one question.
"Can you reverse what's been done to me after my mission is over?" he asked uncertainly.
Professor Glutgrave hesitated just the slightest before asnwering. "Of course," he said, sounding as though he were offended Renfield had even dared suggest he couldn't reverse the process. "The procedure can in fact be undone. Komplex has told me that your reward for your service as a spy will be getting your old face back. Isn't that nice?"
This overjoyed Renfield, and made his current state more bearable. Soon, he said goodbye to Professor Glutgrave and that infernal laboratory, never wanting to see it again until he absolutely had to. As he boarded the toad transport ship his mind was filled with possibilities. What would living among the mammals as one of them be like? He decided he wouldn't know until he got there...
~*~
Renfield awoke with a start, nearly spilling the glass of slug and maggot juice. He grumbled and realized he'd fallen asleep. He sighed and set the glass aside on a table and rose, stretching. He headed upstairs and fell into bed without taking his clothes off or even removing his shoes, and fell into a deep, restless sleep, dreaming fitfully of Dawson, Jimmy, Stephenson, Bucky, Toadborg, laboratories, spies and intrigue.
