The Maverick Project

At first, there was black. 

Now, he couldn’t have that, could he?

He needed to figure it out. How? He couldn’t move much. Small circles with flailing limbs. He wanted more. He wanted to see.

“Well, hello there, little one,” a voice whispered. Warm. He liked the sound of it. It was somewhere vaguely above his head. 

Whoa. Touch. There was something stroking his head. He liked that feeling. 

“This is it?” Much colder voice. Brisk, uncaring. 

“Yep, this is them. Turned out perfectly, didn’t you?” Warm was addressing him in that last one. But who was he even supposed to be? Where was Warm?

“I thought it was supposed to be bright. If we do an experiment in the tundra, we’ll lose it.” Cold.

“I made them pink,” Warm shot back, exasperated. “They’re young, it has yet to grow in. If you look closely enough, it’s already all over their tail and their forehead, just light.”

“Mmmf.” Cold did not sound pleased. 

Wait. There was now grey. Shapes in the grey. He had opened his eyes. 

“Would you look at that?” Warm breathed, amazed. 

“What?” Cold snapped. 

“Their eyes,” Warm said. A shape moved in his vision. Was it Warm? Warm was white and peachy, with a reddish-brown smudge on the top. He was angry; why couldn’t he see Warm clearly yet?

“You mean the two colors?” Cold was not impressed.

“Well, yes, but I wasn’t referring to the heterochromia. They’re open.” Warm again. He liked Warm. 

“Yeah, so?” Cold was dumb and mean, he had decided. He didn’t like Cold at all. Cold was being rude to Warm. 

“Cats’ eyes aren’t open at birth,” Warm replied. “But you’re special, now, aren't you, little guy?”

Cat. What was cat?

“Is it a guy?” Cold asked.

“Well,” Warm started.

And suddenly he was upside down. He hated upside down.

He lashed out with claws and paws he didn’t know he had, throwing open his mouth. He stuck a claw into something warm and smooth and soft. 

“Hey, now, it’s all right,” Warm said, and someone gently released the claw. “I’m not going to hurt you, it’s okay.” He calmed down. Warm was there. Had he scratched Warm?

“They don’t have a gender right now,” Warm said brusquely, and he was right-side up. Perfect. 

“You analyzed the genetic sequence. Which chromosomes were there?” Cold.

“I thought I’d isolated female,” Warm said, sheepish. Had Cold made Warm embarrassed? Bad, bad Cold. “But, as I was checking the embryo through development, a Y chromosome came up as well. I guess they can choose. I don’t know what’s happening with them, the number of splices I’ve done makes them so extremely unstable I can’t say anything. For all I know, we can come back tomorrow and they’ll have given themselves a fish tail.”

Cold grunted. “All I needed to know was that it was alive. You have four weeks to give it basic training. Then, we take the Maverick experiment for real.”

“Ah, I know,” Warm said, though he didn’t seem pleased. “You can go.” 

Swing, hinges, slam.

“Well, Mav, I guess it’s just you and me now, right, little buddy?”

Mav.

He liked that.