Lucy could sense the creature’s anguish from where she stood. What have they done to you, Thingus?
Mr Fisher returned his son’s panicked glare. “How did you get down here?” he demanded.
“Let him go,” Milo pleaded.
Hearing the sound of Milo’s voice, Thingus’s yellow eyes flew open in his catfish face. He sloshed urgently against the glass, the bubbly water churning around him. Milo ran towards the tank, but his father blocked his way.
Stringy Dum and squat Dummer emerged from behind the vessel, marching in lockstep towards Milo and Lucy. Fisher raised his hand and the goons stopped, awaiting his signal.
Fisher bowed his head. “Milo, you can’t possibly expect me to release this monster.”
“He’s not a monster,” said Lucy. “Thingus is awesome. And smarter than you, probably.”
“He’s my friend, Dad,” said Milo. “Please.”
“Don’t be absurd,” said Fisher. “This creature is far better off in a secure lab than out there, endangering the community.”
“You’re the one who’s dangerous,” Lucy shot back, “with your deranged tests and experiments.”
One of the scientists stepped forward, a petite woman with a tight black bun, red cat-eye glasses gracing her angular face.
Lucy’s lip curled. Doctor Quittan.
“If we can put the children back in their cribs now, Richard,” said Quittan, “the work must continue.” She was carrying a sizable syringe.
Quittan was the head of chemical research at Nu Co. Lucy had previously encountered her at the Par-T in Da Pines carnival (ugh), and again at the factory. She remembered the woman as being overly fascinated by horrific bodily transformations and not especially keen on unannounced guests. She and Doctor Vink were the leaders of Fisher’s torturous endeavours, and had probably been voted “Most Likely to Commit War Crimes’” in their high-school yearbooks.
Turning on her stiletto heel, Quittan approached Thingus’s prison tank and lifted a cover to reveal a panel at the side.
“Introducing Substance Nu-791.” She drove the needle into the rubber injection site. A pale blue liquid travelled slowly through a thick intravenous tube and into Thingus’s torso.
The sky-blue substance appeared to have the opposite effect of the pink goo. Thingus’s body began to change uncontrollably: his eight limbs melted together into a snake-like, singular form, then split into two stork-like legs, which thickened and split once more to form four mammalian appendages. Simultaneously, his head and neck lengthened and then shrank, widened, then winnowed. The other scientists took notes as the creature thrashed and wailed.
“Stop it,” Milo begged Quittan. “You’re hurting him!”
Doctor Quittan shot Fisher a look of disgust, imploring him to silence the boy.
Fisher snapped his fingers for Dum and Dummer to advance.
Lucy and Milo ran in different directions. Their only hope was to break Thingus out of the oversized vessel before he was irreparably harmed.
Dummer, the shorter of the goons and faster than he looked, nabbed Lucy by the elbow and pinned her arms behind her back. Milo zagged away but Dum, with a sinister grin, caught him by the collar and held him fast.
Lucy struggled to free herself as Thingus’s anguished body morphed again and again, until finally his spasms ceased. The poor creature now had the body of a small deer, the head of an exotic lizard, and giant albatross wings that floated limply in the water. Thingus’s scaly forehead was pressed against the glass, his mouth open in a soundless cry for help.
“What are you doing to him?” said Milo, straining against Dum’s grip.
“It was Richard’s ingenious idea,” said Quittan, nodding at Fisher. “We’ve been developing ways to use the deviant species’ own biological morphology to incapacitate it.”
“Huh?” said Lucy.
“We’re stopping the creatures from transforming at will,” said a younger ginger-haired scientist. “The pink stuff prevents the creature from changing shape, and the blue stuff causes it to change uncontrollably.” He tapped his clipboard with his pen. “Pretty neat, huh?”
“That’s horrible,” Lucy growled.
“Oh, don’t worry,” the man insisted. “This creature doesn’t feel pain the same way we do.”
I’ll bet that’s what you dillweeds say about the chimps, too.
“Of course he does,” said Milo. “Just look at him! He’s in agony.”
Fisher shook his head. “You don’t know anything about this creature.”
“Do you?” said Milo.
“I know it’s not like us.” Fisher motioned to his flunkies.
Dummer dragged Lucy towards the entrance as she kicked his shins in protest. Dum marched Milo to a chair by the door and forced him to sit. Red-faced, the boy tried to stand, but he was pushed back down decisively.
Mr Fisher approached his son. “Milo,” he said, “I’ve been trying to protect you by keeping you out of all this, but I see now that that was a mistake. I think it’s time you learned the truth about Sticky Pines.”
Milo exchanged a glance with Lucy, who was dangling indignantly under Dummer’s stinky armpit.
Fisher bent down, his hands on his knees. “That creature over there is not alone,” he said, gravely. “You may find this hard to believe, but some of the people in this town are not what they seem. Milo, they’re not human.”
“Yeah. We already know that,” said Lucy, rolling her eyes.
“Dad, listen to me,” said Milo. “Thingus isn’t a threat to anyone. I’ve spent every day with him for the past few weeks. He’s no different from me or Lucy. You can’t just torture him. Please, Dad, let him go.”
“These monsters are not our friends,” said Fisher. “They’ve attacked my machines.”
“They just wanna stop you from destroying them,” said Lucy. She tried to wriggle out of Dummer’s grasp, but he twisted her arm until she doubled over in pain.
Ignoring her, Fisher focused on his son. “That creature over there is more than just a threat.”
“What do you mean?” asked Milo.
“It’s an opportunity.” Fisher gestured to the prison tank with pride. “This species has abilities
