Firstborn, Intro v2

The Doctor’s Lair was populated with many unnamed creatures. He was indifferent to most of them, creations that didn’t meet his expectations or naturals that outlived their uses. His work was everything. He was an upstanding member of the Greonteo Empire, an experimenter of life sciences decorated for his many contributions to society. The Empire trafficked in slaves, which provided fodder for the Doctor’s work.

He’d begun with the unintelligent species. The Doctor had needed to stop using the slaves as assistants when they became too squeamish to help him. The other options were robotic or risk a colleague among his equals. He began to acquire robotic assistants rather than share his research with another. After he worked the details out with the assistants, he managed to build a small army. The slaves, then useless, became his new experiments.

The Doctor’s legitimate work ran with classifying creatures – for intelligence, instincts, and other unseen qualities. Usually his subjects lived through this first round of tests. He couldn’t obtain other Greonteo for tests, so he classified them the most intelligent. He knew his funding sources would appreciate those results. Occasionally he created gadgets to ease everyday Greonteo life. Between the gadgets and his legitimate funding, the facility ran smoothly.

His children were nearly grown now. His middle daughter had started showing appreciation for his science. Her picture graced his desk, the only family member of any importance to him. He had always considered himself lucky that Greonteo never mated permanently, as many other species did. He had no time for that.

The Doctor’s illegitimate work ran for breeding. He had about a dozen species to mix, including Humans – the traditional slaves of choice, Jore – long-time enemies of the Greonteo who had been newly conquered, and Ixi – shapeshifters unavailable as slaves on the open market and extremely difficult to break.

His half-breeds began filling the facility, until he needed to build a larger one. Any of the creatures in his halls was fair game – including the unintelligent ones and halflings who survived testing. One of his current projects included a specialized pet for his daughter. When he succeeded, he would sell them throughout the Empire.

The intelligent species took exception to his breeding program. Most of their societies had rules against that type of thing. Purity of blood and other such rules severely limited the Doctor’s work. Greonteo only cared about their own blood, others were fair game.

His favorite project was combining more than just two species. Most of the combinations lacked viability, but he knew it was possible. Ixi seemed to be the answer; the only surviving combinations he’d managed included Ixi. Few species couldn’t be combined. It was usually a small thing to add, a protein or a stabilizer or a spell to make everything viable. The trick was to figure out exactly what it needed.

The Doctor had one of each of the natural species in his lab. Cages lined every wall except near his desk and the two doors. Different types of incubators were set in the middle of the lab in rings. One of his robotic assistants was monitoring the conditions inside. Six incubators were in use. One working on the pet for his daughter, four for his new species, the final one held an experiment for publication on the outside incubation of a domestic species used for food in the Greonteo Empire. The last project was funding the other two at the moment, he couldn’t afford it to be set back much further.

He was plotting the new experiments for his other incubators. He sometimes wondered if it would be better to incubate new experiments inside other subjects, but hadn’t yet managed to control enough variables to make it work. If only all species laid eggs like Greonteo, he wouldn’t have to worry about it. He had managed to bring the unborn to term in another species, but only after a certain point. It was another experiment to finish that would wait until after these subjects incubated.

The assistant grabbed his attention. One of the incubators, the largest center one, was ready. There had been eight occupants, one of them hadn’t made it this far. Two of the remaining seven were questionable. He suited up, grabbed gloves, and hurried over to see the situation.

The first out was a four-limbed creature. He wasn’t sure what it would look like, the eight species he had combined to create these were very different. It looked much like a Tual or a Human. The skin was a ruddy color, eyes weren’t open yet. He handed it over to the assistant for weight and measure and reached for the next one. He continued this process until he reached the unviable one. The assistant tagged it and placed it in order for records. The Doctor reached for the last few. He worked first on the two that didn’t look like they’d make it before inspecting his new creations. He managed to save one of them. He had the assistant prepare the two dead for storage; he’d have plenty of time to dissect them later when he’d figured out what exactly he’d made.

The assistant returned with a generic formula the Doctor had created when he’d begun genetic alterations to the unborn. It worked on most species that breathed the air he breathed. The others he was still experimenting. The formula still funded half the facility since it was so wildly popular with the egg-houses in the Empire.

He surveyed the remaining living creatures numbered 1, 3, 4, 6, 7, and 8. During his examination, he decided the firstborn must be female, and it appeared she was the only one in this hatching. He’d thought the secondborn was male, he would confirm that later. The other six appeared to be two different genders, neither male nor female. The Doctor had heard of species with three genders, but had never run across them or been able to obtain them for his experiments. He wondered how he managed to create a hybrid with four genders.

It reminded him of a conversation with a schoolmate a few years ago. The schoolmate had said that the creation of a new species was impossible, and the (theoretical) blending of species would only create more versions of what was already known. It had started him down this path of creation. If they could be intelligent and self-sufficient, he could find a planet to plant them on. He could go on record for discovering them – never letting them know he created them in the first place. If he could get them to breed, it would be the perfect revenge. Both of them studied the lesser species; let him waste time trying to understand the nuances of a new species the Doctor would create.

The Doctor had a smile on his face as he finished his examinations and left the newborns in the assistant’s care. He checked on them every day, at first. They didn’t change much, and he decided to pick out one of them to carry with him. He chose the firstborn, the female, because of her skintone (she was a reddish color that his species couldn’t be and the only one of the hatching).

He carried her everywhere, when her fur grew in and she began to walk she followed him on his rounds. His goals were to assess her abilities on an initial basis and to decide where to set her kind in the uninhabited lands. The Doctor was pleased.