Alpha

by Tim Tow

Art by Francine Lee

It wasn’t as painful as I was told to expect. It was more excruciating than I expected. Groggily, I started to rise from the bed. The nurse pushed me back and said, “Wait and settle first.”

I laid back as forced and did a quick survey of where I was. I was lying on a movable bed that was being whisked down a corridor accompanied by a nurse. The automated bed moved along smoothly keeping me comfortable until it arrived at what I guessed to be my room.

The bed slid into its dock in the room. Above the bed was a diagnostic display that chirped to life now that the bed was interfaced. The nurse looked up at the display and tapped a few times on a tablet. “How are you feeling?” asked the nurse, not really expecting an answer.

I whined a low keening moan, not really able to speak yet. The nurse patted me gently on the head and my moans subsided. During the roll to the room, I clenched my hands, flexed my toes, stretched my legs, bent my knees, arched my back and rolled my shoulders. 

The nurse looked at the tablet again and said, “Rest for now. These treatments are really a lot for anyone. I bet you’re hungry.”

A meal came in and settled beside the bed. Famished, I wolfed down the food, hardly using the utensils provided and then full, laid back on the bed and fell into a deep sleep. 

The next several weeks passed quickly and while I did not know at the time, they were testing me thoroughly. I practiced walking again and it seemed so different being up on just my two feet. Soon I graduated to running on a treadmill, though a few times I dropped down and continued on. It seemed a bit remedial to me, but I went through it all. The nurse again mentioned that I was a fast learner and continued to heap praise on me.

Around the first week, I started to finally speak and fully vocalize. The staff marveled at that ability, and I thought they were mocking me, but gradually I began to answer in complete sentences.  Alongside physical therapy, I started vocal therapy and cognitive therapy. I went through endless roleplay and question and answer sessions with an auto-teacher and therapy staff.

One of the stranger tests they made me do was to build a campfire in the woods one day. I had complained about having to do it by rubbing sticks together which didn’t work but finally using a piece of glass and a sunny day, a smoldering pile burst into flames, elating everyone especially me.

Before I knew it, it was release time. The nurse said that I was ready to go. Looking up at her, I asked expectantly about my family and why no one had come to visit. “Very good,” the nurse said and tapped once more on the tablet.” You’ve been given multiple regenerative DNA and RNA treatments, that includes cognition augmentation, accelerated instruction, and surgical alterations to improve your physical dexterity, strength, and telomere lengthening.”  The nurse paused for a moment and looked at something on the tablet.

I understood most of those terms the nurse had mentioned and knew I had gone through some augmentation, rejuvenation and life extension procedure and that it took time to recover physically and mentally.

I never thought about how smart I was, but I do remember people around me saying I was smart and learned fast. “I guess I’m a fast learner,” I said.

“You definitely proved that!” the nurse said.

“You know that you’re our first success. Your body did not reject the treatments, and the psychological testing has shown you to be stable and well adjusted. You can thank your family for your socialization in your puppy years,” the nurse said. “Our past test subjects failed psychologically mainly because most of them were too young, too feral, or physically unfit.”

The nurse continued, “Many of our initial test subjects were considered expendable, and until you, we didn’t have a test subject who had lived in a secure domestic environment. We’ve learned a lot now about how environmental factors impact and interact with genetics. As such, I think we know how to successfully perform this treatment on others of your kind now.

“Since you have also passed the Piper-Carr Sapience test, we need you to sign the release for you to leave.”

I reached out for the stylus to scrawl my signature. I was still adjusting to the opposable thumb they had made from my dewclaw but sign it I did.

 “Are you ready to go?”

I leapt off the bed and landed on all fours. I still preferred walking that way despite the enhanced hindquarters that allowed me to stand upright. I couldn’t wait to see my family again who had dared to not just want a pet, but a true best friend. I trotted after the nurse to rejoin my family and will wonder how much our relationship will change.