Project Leviathan

By Oboroten

The Transgenesis Corporation truck slowly rolled down the gravel road along the Rio Catrimani. The trip had been carefully timed to take advantage of a break in the clouds, to maximize the efficiency of the vehicle's solar cells. Still, even in the mid 21st century, weather forecasting was an inexact science.

The inspectors nervously scanned the trees for signs of intruders. They had heard that Roraima was overrun with the unregistered, people who had foolishly resisted the new world order established after the Great War of 2024. The Gates Foundation had implemented population control facilities in the towns near the Amazon, but many reactionaries had fled into the forest.

By mid day, the truck reached the compound, in the middle of the Transgenesis Bioreserve. The location had been picked because of the level of genetic diversity found in this remnant of the once great rainforest. It was vital to the financial future of Transgenesis, as each strand of DNA processed could potentially yield a fortune.

Dr. Morton greeted the inspectors warmly as they passed the security perimeter surrounding the scientific research area. "It is regrettable that we must resort to these primitive measures, but you never now what the unregistered will do. The government of Roraima had assured me that the problem would be solved, but it is so difficult to find our enemies."

Junior Inspector Raymond glanced at the bar code on his right hand. After the Great War, the United Nations Conglomerate had standardized a system of worldwide identification, allowing everyone to smoothly operate in an orderly society. All citizens had a similar ID badge, allowing for immediate intervention should something go wrong. Of course, the unregs did not have badges, but it was best not to think about such backward people.

Chief Inspector Davis responded abruptly to Morton's greeting: "I find it hard to believe that you are having trouble with some stupid unregs. Remember, you have a fiduciary duty to Transgenesis. You are supposed to extract any valuable DNA from this area, so our shareholders can be assured of getting quick profits. We cannot allow some primitives to stand in the way of progress. Whatever means are necessary to achieve our goals are proper."

Morton glared briefly at Davis, thinking of the many times meddling bureaucrats had interfered with his work. Carefully weighing his words, Morton replied: "The unregistered are not as unsophisticated as you suggested, Chief Inspector. The outer buildings of our compound have been raided regularly at night. Lately, they are even becoming bold enough to attack during the day. Due to our limited financial backing, we have requested help from the government of Roraima, but have received little assistance. Recently, I have started my own little program, which should at least stabilize the situation, and allow Transgenesis to receive the data."

Raymond glanced at a large glass case on a wall next to the entrance to Morton's laboratory. It was filled with hundreds of butterflies and moths. The insects seemed to have every possible combination of color and texture in their wings.

Noticing Raymond's interest in the display, Morton decided to change the subject. He was tired of discussing business matters, as his main interest had always been advancing the scientific frontier. "Inspectors," Morton declared, "These insects are the key to the future of Transgenesis. Many years ago, I started work as a genetic engineer by studying ecdysones in lepidoptera. Insects are truly remarkable creatures. They have achieved a greater diversity than any other form of animal on Earth. And the most successful insects can thrive through their unique skill at metamorphosis. By transforming into an entirely different form . . ."

Davis interrupted, "We are not interested in your views on bugs. We want to know what you have been doing to secure the genetic resources of this region for Transgenesis. If you have been spending corporation funds to just catch butterflies, we will shut you down, regardless of how many you caught. You better show us how a profit can be made from your insects."

Morton resumed, irritated at the disruption: "Insects can operate in completely different environments. Through my research, this can now be applied to other species. In the past, our competitors attempted to create chimeras by splicing together DNA from different types of animals. Even with nanotechnology, this process was fraught with difficulty.

But now, I can change a mundane animal into an improved form by adding specially adapted insect hormones to the DNA mixture. Just as a lowly caterpillar can change into a beautiful butterfly, I can create an entirely new creature from something that was nearly worthless. This will provide great benefits to Transgenesis. All of these new beings will be proprietary to the corporation. I am sure you can see the potential for great riches in this process."

Davis stared at Raymond, who was still gazing at Morton's collection. No wonder he had not been promoted from junior inspector. He could not keep his mind on important matters. Davis had enough of Morton's lecture: "Just bring all of your data out to our truck. We do not want to transmit it, for fear of a security breach. In addition, we understand that you have started new work, something called ‘Project Leviathan.' Does it involve whales?"

Morton was relieved to hear that the inspectors just wanted his computer files, and were not intent on a detailed tour of his facility. He decided to give Davis a partially truthful description of his latest project: "Project Leviathan actually involves crocodilians, not cetaceans. Reptiles were dominant on this planet for a vast period of time, especially the great dinosaurs. We have been able to collect many species from the local rivers, and have devoted most of our study to the caimans. Since they are relatively small, they are more manageable that the local crocodiles."

Davis was in a hurry to finish his job. He had heard enough: "I don't want to hear any more crock about crocs. Just make sure that all of your files are ready to go. The weather could turn bad at any minute. We are going to examine the river tract, to see if unregs are breaching security. I am leaving Raymond behind, to check for breaches in your immediate perimeter."

At that instant, a scream erupted from the woods upstream from Morton's compound. Raymond thought he saw a person standing at the edge of the clearing, dragging something. Suddenly, the shape dropped into the river, and vanished from sight.

Morton tried to calm the group: "This is not unusual. Our recent security upgrade has ensured that the unregistered cannot penetrate our facility. As you have just heard, one of our guards has terminated an intruder. Rest assured that Transgenesis can count on us."

Davis smiled: "It is good to see someone taking proactive measures. Some people are just too soft hearted, trying to persuade unregs to join society. But those savages will never fit in. It would be better just to eliminate the problem." Davis then left the room, leaving Raymond behind with Dr. Morton. The other inspectors followed Davis to the truck, determined to look for any signs of unreg intrusions. They were relieved that Morton had hired efficient guards.

Meanwhile, Raymond was examining the dark water, curious at how Morton's guard had moved so quickly. He noticed a small building next to the river, with a light shining through an open, slightly ajar door. He resolved to investigate.

A few minutes later, Morton noticed Raymond walking down the hill towards his river caiman facility. Morton thought quickly, realizing how foolish he had been to lose track of the remaining inspector. He shouted: "Don't go there. There could be another attack at any minute. I cannot assure your safety."

Raymond had already reached the door. Looking inside, he saw a motionless figure lying on a dais. It seemed to be a person, but was covered with a shell, like the chrysalis of a butterfly pupa. The table was tilted over an opening in the floor, dropping abruptly to the river below.

Walking inside, Raymond looked more closely at the inert being. It did not seem to be breathing, but instead pulsated, as if fluid was squirting just below the surface of the shell. He saw tubes linked to what should have been the creature's mouth, but also obscured by the same mass of brown material as the rest of its body.

The pulsation was most noticeable near what seemed to be the figure's left hand. Moving closer, the inspector reached down with his right hand to touch the thumb, which was vibrating more than any other location. Suddenly, the fingertip burst, revealing a sharp claw. Before Raymond could react, the entire hand dissolved, replaced by a huge claw, covered with shiny green scales. The claw grasped Raymond's wrist in its talons, tearing his right hand off. The severed appendage dropped with a plop into the water.

Grimacing with pain, Raymond struggled to get outside the door. His attacker, busy shedding its outer membrane, did not pursue. As Raymond finally left the building, he encountered Dr. Morton. "I told you not go there. But you did not listen," declared the angry scientist, "But I can hardly expect rational thought from someone like you."

Raymond glanced back. He could see a trail of blood stretching back to the dais. His reptilian foe was dropping through the opening, preparing to swim off into the river. But it looked more like a man than any reptile he had ever seen before. Once the thing reached the water, it dove below the dark surface, leaving little trace of its passage. A few husks of membrane were strewn about the floor, intermingled with the drops of Raymond's blood.

Morton decided to resume a more friendly manner: "See. It is already healing. Just a flesh wound. We can easily deal with such minor problems here." Raymond noticed that the pain had suddenly subsided. Looking down at his wrist, he noticed that the stump of his right hand was encased in a thick membrane, just like the chrysalis that had enveloped the reptile-man.

"What do you mean, just a flesh wound? Your monster tore my right hand off!" yelled Raymond. "Should I call you Dr. Moreau? Is your ‘Project Leviathan' a plan to turn humans into reptiles? When the other inspectors get back you will be in big trouble."

Morton responded calmly to Raymond's retort. He just needed to stall for time, to make sure that Raymond did not try to go up the hill to the main compound. "Monster? I do not make monsters here. All of my creatures are wonderful," said Morton. "The person you saw on the table was a volunteer from the security forces of Roraima. We have started a program of enhancing human abilities by inserting caiman DNA. I carefully monitor the process to ensure that the correct hybridization occurs. If I allowed the metamorphosis to continue uninterrupted, the human factor would be lost. I greatly value the intelligence of my guards."

Hearing this news, Raymond decided to back away, hoping to escape by running up the hill. But before he made one step, an intense surge of pain came from his left leg. He fell to the ground, crumpled in a heap next to the door, out of sight of the main compound.

Morton could hear the inspectors' truck rumbling as it returned along the gravel road. He was relieved that they would not easily discover his secret. He switched off the light in the caiman laboratory, and turned his back on Raymond. Slowly walking up the steep slope, he briefly addressed Raymond: "Don't try to scream. A caiman has a rather inflexible tongue, so you will only cause more pain if you attempt to speak. I will be back to feed you later."

Davis was pleased with his tour of the river tract. Morton's security measures had been quite effective. Other Transgenesis facilities in the area had been repeatedly pillaged, but there was no sign of any unreg activity along the Catrimani.

Returning to the front of his compound, Morton made his best effort to look shocked and traumatized, "It was terrible. We had another attack while you were away. My guards tried to rescue him, but Inspector Raymond wandered too close to the edge of the perimeter. I think he has been abducted, dragged off into the forest. If you move quickly, you may catch them."

Davis reacted immediately. "I knew we should never have taken someone as inexperienced as Raymond on this mission. How idiotic! He knew the unregs were out there. Why didn't he just stay away from the trees." The other inspectors immediately started the routine task of scanning for Raymond's ID badge.

A few minutes later, Davis and his team found Raymond's hand along the riverbank, downsteam from Morton's buildings. Davis tore out the badge, placing it in a package for later identification. He resolved to leave quickly, before anything else happened.

As Davis returned for a final time, Morton continued to feign concern: "Did you find him? I am sure they could not have gone far." Davis answered: "No. The unregs are probably carrying him off to replenish their human organ warehouses. Happens all the time in our other facilities. But he was expendable. I am sure this will help your effort to get additional funding for enhanced security." Before Morton could respond, Davis turned, urging his fellow inspectors back into the truck: "We must leave now. It looks like rain will arrive soon. Since we have all of the computer files loaded, nothing more is needed."

As the truck vanished into the jungle, Morton remembered to check on the status of his latest creation. He first walked to the freezer, collecting some chunks of meat. He normally used an intravenous solution to feed his guards during the transformation process, but always kept some raw flesh ready. The metamorphosis tended to drain a great deal of energy, so the experimental subject would be extremely hungry when ready to emerge.

Raymond had been aware of the presence of the inspectors in Morton's main building. He could clearly hear the truck moving away from the compound, for the final time. He had been unable to do anything to alert the inspectors, but was forced to remain silent, lying outside the door to Morton's caiman laboratory.

Every minute, the metamorphosis seemed to proceed at a faster rate. It was as if his insides had melted, and started to flow freely. The chitinous membrane had steadily spread over his entire body. His clothing had torn off early in the process, ripped to shreds by the hydraulic pressure of the expanding cocoon.

Raymond could still think, but found that his mind was increasingly dominated by one thought: food. He had almost gotten used to the sensation of parts of his body turning to liquid, and oozing in a gelatinous manner under the shell. But, when he tried to concentrate, intense pangs of hunger would strike, blotting out any other idea he could contemplate.

At this moment, Morton arrived: "Inspector Raymond. Are you ready to join my security guards? I am not sure if you will really measure up to my high standards. We demand strict obedience here. I have brought some food. I am sure you will need to eat soon. My metamorphosis process uses regenerative DNA reprogramming, so you right foreclaw will grow back soon. Provided you decide to cooperate."

Raymond could faintly see Morton through the membrane covering his eyes. He felt intense fury, thinking the Morton had somehow disposed of the other inspectors. But these thoughts were quickly swept away, replaced again by an overwhelming need to feed.

Morton continued: "I have some capybara viscera in this bucket, a typical food for the caimans in this section of the rainforest. I have also brought some special food, collected by my guards. They are proud of their skill in capturing the unregistered who stray within our compound. Generally, they only take an appendage, a hand or foot, and send the intruders off as a warning to the others. We keep the human meat in our freezer, as a reward for our cai-men on special occasions. Will you join my security force?"

Raymond briefly felt nausea and disgust, but could soon think of nothing else but eating raw meat. The capybara was particularly appealing. Morton had thrown the thawing carcass onto the river bank, and dumped a few loose bits of human flesh on top of it.

Morton resumed: "I will take that as a ‘no'. Most of my volunteers would immediately lunge at the chance for a fresh meal. But you are resisting. I thought inspectors had nothing but contempt for the unregistered. I was sure that you will having no problem with my selection of food. I was going to administer an injection of my stabilizing serum, to allow you to retain some semblance of humanity.

But now, I think it will be best to let the metamorphosis proceed to completion. I am always glad when I can increase the number of caimans in the forest. Too many have been killed by unregistered bands. By releasing my creations, I am restoring the natural order."

Raymond's head burst out of its membrane. His slitted eyes focused on the pile of rodent flesh. He lunged forward, as his four claws broke free of their casing.

Morton backed away, making sure that he kept a safe distance away from the emerging caiman. His DNA vectors were extremely infective at the end of the metamorphosis process, so he did not want to risk any direct contact. He could see that Raymond's long spiked tail was starting to shed its cocoon, as the caiman approached the meat pile.

The new caiman's head plunged into the middle of the capybara. It ate greedily, gulping down whole sections. It did not seem to notice the odd bits of human meat mixed in with the rodent flesh. After devouring all of the meat, it slid off into river, slowly slipping below the nearly black surface of the water.

Morton was pleased with his new creation. It seemed to have entirely lost any human characteristics. He sometimes worried that his cai-men might rebel, and somehow expose his plan to Transgenesis. But he had always maintained their loyalty, promising a restoration to human form once his work was finished.

But Morton's work was just beginning. He planned to restore the rainforest to its original splendor, recreating all of the wildlife that had been lost during the Great War, and the raids by the unregistered. He was sure the new caiman would help restore the food chain, a first step in replacing the predators that had been exterminated by human intruders.

More importantly, he thought he had done Raymond a favor. Inspectors were truly the lowest form of human life, having nothing better to do than interfere with other peoples' work. In Raymond's new life as a caiman, he would become an important link in rebuilding the complex web of the rainforest ecosystem. As Morton returned to his laboratory, he started to daydream, thinking about how many other people could benefit from ‘Project Leviathan.'