"Speci-Men" - Part One

 

Part One

            Miya felt like she was a kid parading around in their dad’s clothes. It had been just a couple of days since she regenerated into her new body – an athletic, blond Japanese-American girl of twenty-something years of age. It was a heavy contrast to her previous incarnation, Skeeta Jenkins, who was a bald middle-aged African-American man with a rather brawny physique. As such, his clothes were practically draped on Miya’s petite figure. His ‘Size 15’ shoes might as well have been clown shoes on her ‘Size 7’ feet, so she decided to go barefoot, once inside her TARDIS.

            Unfortunately, that didn’t take care of the problem she faced with the pants, which she fought to keep up several times. She even tried tightening the belt, but it went way beyond the last notch.

            She needed new clothes – ones that suited this third incarnation.

            After saying goodbye to Sonia, Alan, and the companions they made in their journey within one of the Gotham Cities, she was now alone in her orb-shaped Type-X TARDIS, a ship of her own design. The first place she went was the wardrobe room; there, she got a good look at herself in the cheval mirror. Her eyes focused mainly on her new hair – and she had a lot of hair. It had been so long since she had so much; she wondered if this regeneration somehow knew that she missed having it.

            Then there was the most striking aspect of this new body – it was female.

            Aznavorian knew of certain possibilities of Time Lords changing gender via regeneration, for reasons that varied on the individual. In the case of this second regeneration, she had difficulty determining what reason she had to regenerate as a woman.

            “Oh, well,” she said aloud with her new voice, which carried a slight Californian accent. “Let’s see what suits you, young lady.”

            The wardrobe room inside her TARDIS still had a lot of women’s clothes left from when Kristin traveled with her, and a few from other female companions. First, she figured a black top hat and matching tuxedo would be the one…

            No, this is way too much for travel.

            …then she put on some makeup, a red nose, and a dress with puffy sleeves…

            Yeesh! This is enough to scare a Sontaran!

            …then she tried something from a bygone era…

            No, no! I’m not a Viking, I’m a Tinkerer.

            After multiple other wardrobe changes, she thought there would be nothing to satisfy the new body…until she put together a black buttoned shirt, a white suit jacket, white pressed pants, and a pair of white Nike brand shoes. She took one look at herself in the mirror, wearing the ensemble, and a gratified smile manifested on her face.

            Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about!

            It was vibrant attire for a vibrant young woman, though she anticipated people on Earth to suspect that she was a businesswoman.

            Satisfied with this choice, she returned to the console room to land her TARDIS.

            The place where she landed appeared to be a museum, judging from the white walls, floors, and ceiling – as well as the art pieces displayed in the room; her Type-X perfectly blended with the scene. I’ve always thought it to be a work of art…coming from the artist…and that’s me!

            The only witnesses to her arrival were a father and his five-year-old son, both of whom wore matching blue polo shirts and jeans – contemporary Earth apparel. They stared at Miya and the TARDIS, but mostly at the former.

            Noting their mouth-gaping bafflement, she gestured to her ship and told them, “New method of travel…it’s really gonna take off.” They didn’t seem quite so amused of the TARDIS or her dad joke.

            She continued along the halls of the art museum and recognized it more specifically as the Metropolitan Museum of Art. By this recognition, she was able to further narrow her current location. Undoubtedly, it was New York City – the hometown of Kristin Curtsinger, her wife from a previous life. Aznavorian hung around the city long enough to know it like the back of their hand – an idiom that would’ve made more sense with their original hand.

            And yet, just like her new hands, there were things about this world that were foreign to Miya. That much was clear with the painting she passed by, on her way out of the museum, depicting Jesus Christ standing in the Garden of Eden. Whoever the artist was certainly had a creative (if not sacrilegious) imagination.

            Another peculiarity that she noticed was the number of men and boys she passed, all of them wearing various styles of clothing that were blue, just like the father and son. There was even an entire class of boys with a male teacher on a field trip, led by a male tour guide.

            Every single one of them gazed on Miya all the same way: mouth agape, confused, shocked, and disgusted.

            She stuck out like a sore thumb in her white suit, standing in a sea of blue-dressed men and boys.

            It got much worse once she made it outside.

            Men of all ages, shapes, sizes, and races throughout the city.

            And not a single woman or girl among them.

            “Oh, boy,” Miya muttered as it dawned on her how different this Earth was from the usual ones she landed in. She felt more alien, being the only female on a planet inhabited by males. A couple of days ago, she would’ve fit in well in such a fascinating society; but now, she was the target of a multitude of curious and revolted male gazes.

            Among them, she saw a little boy standing at the middle of a crosswalk. He wasn’t accompanied by an adult, which she found more than alarming…but no more so than the blue taxicab that was speeding directly towards him. The cab driver’s attention wasn’t on the road but on Miya – the alien – instead.

            “HEY!” She yelled, her instinct to react flaring to the impending danger.

            She found out how fast Miya’s legs moved the second she ran from the museum entrance to the crosswalk, which was a good nine yards. Skeeta’s physical age, height, and girth wouldn’t have allowed him to move as swiftly as the younger, shorter, and slimmer Miya. This may very well have been the factor that decided this little boy’s fate. She reached him just in time to scoop him off the street and onto the sidewalk, clear of the taxicab’s path. The driver swerved in a delayed reaction, t-boning into another vehicle at the intersection.

            Both her hearts beating like bongos in her chest, Miya took a moment to breathe before checking on the boy she saved. “You O.K., lil’ fella?” she asked him, but he was too much in shock to speak; whether it was from the near-death experience or from being face-to-face with an alien, it was hard to tell. He was breathing and responsive, which was all that mattered to her.

            CLANG! Something struck Miya in the back of her head, clattering to the ground afterwards. She saw that it was a half-full soda can. “GET AWAY, FREAK!” she heard one of the men say. She soon realized that all the men on the block had surrounded her and the boy, hurling both insults and objects in her general direction.

            One of the items happened to have been a brick.

            It nearly would have struck the boy instead of Miya, had she not caught it.

            “THAT’S ENOUGH!!” she screamed in rage, her tone making the mob recoil in fear. It wasn’t her intention to escalate the scene with her anger, but seeing how close the boy came to having his face bashed by a brick infuriated her. It was that reason she urged him in a whisper, “Get outta here, lil’ dude. It’s dangerous.” He acknowledged her warning with a nod and dashed off, leaving her to face the mob alone.

            Soon, the police arrived – literal boys in blue.

            Of course, rather than diffuse the situation, they made it worse by focusing all their aggression strictly on Miya, pointing their guns and waving their batons. Miya wisely chose to surrender, holding up her hands in peaceful protest. Unfortunately, this didn’t inspire any sympathy from the male authorities, one of whom came in from behind and clocked his baton right on her head.

            Miya dropped immediately, losing all sense of consciousness.

-------------------------

            Dr. Derek Sands couldn’t have imagined his day to have gone any better. When news broke of the alien lifeform that appeared that morning in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, he expected a direct call from the White House to come at any moment. As the most renowned scientist of the Unified Region, in addition to being the founder and CEO of Sands Corp, he and his company were responsible for some of the most technological and biological developments in the six territories. There was no one more capable of handling the alien situation than Sands Corp.

            Its unconscious body was wheeled in through the rear entrance of the Sands Corp building in Manhattan, only accessible by security. Dr. Sands and his assistant, Richard Chambers, waited in one of the labs that made up the sublevels of the building. It was where the most top-secret research was conducted, away from prying eyes and possible leakers. Sands had his competitors, and they would do anything to get in on Sands Corp’s latest innovations.

            Sands was elated the second that the alien creature was delivered to the lab by National Security, laid right onto the examination table. “Such a fascinating humanoid,” he grinned beneath his surgical mask.

            Chambers, by contrast, was mortified. “Look at its clothes,” he gripped the creature’s shirt and jacket. “I’ve never seen clothing made in these colors.” He gagged under his mask. “Ugh…it has…some sort of tear-shaped growth in both pectorals.”

            “It’d appear so,” examined the intrigued Sands. “Quite fascinating indeed. I wonder what purpose the growth serves to its overall physiology.”

            Curiously, Chambers placed a stethoscope to the left side of the creature’s chest, just beneath the ‘growth,’ listening for a heartbeat. “Its heart is on the same side as ours,” he noted, sounding somewhat relieved.

            Sands listened with his own stethoscope; he gave his assistant a skeptical glance when he detected rhythm reverberating from the opposite side of the creature’s chest. “Uh, no, its heart is on the right side. I can hear and feel it throbbing from here.”

            Chambers began to sweat. “So can I from here!”

            Sands’ eyes lit with excitement of yet another discovery. “A binary vascular system?!” To verify this, he carted a portable, multi-purpose machine over to the table. Among its multiple functions was an x-ray screen that swiveled on an industrial arm mount. He positioned it over the creature’s chest and switched it on, providing the two examiners a look inside the alien.

            Sure enough, two hearts – highlighted in red on the display – were beating.

            Sands giggled with glee, while Chambers wheezed in anxiety. Both men exhibited polarizing viewpoints on the alien humanoid with the unnatural biology. “If the upper half is this fascinating, I can only imagine what the rest looks like!” Sands beamed.

            “Dr. Sands!” A gruff, elderly voice bellowed from outside. Chambers was relieved when the President of the Unified Regions himself stormed in, flanked by his personal security, a group of tall, aggressive-looking men in blue militia suits. “Please tell me you boys have something to give me.” He caught a glimpse of the alien, grimacing in disgust. “Good heavens! What is this thing?! Where did it come from?!”

            “Other than outer space, we don’t rightly know, Mr. President,” Sands said.

            “You sound like the tabloids,” the President scoffed. “They think it’s alien, too.”

            “W-What do you t-think it is, s-sir?” Chambers stammered.

            Glaring at the creature, the President hissed, “A mutant…a freak of nature! And it needs to be destroyed…incinerated!”

            “I…I don’t think that’s wise, s-sir.”

            Chambers became the recipient of the President’s icy stare with that remark.

            Thankfully, Sands stepped in and supported his assistant, “Dr. Chambers is right, Mr. President. There’s so much that we have yet to explore in this creature. I believe, once it has regained cognizance, we can communicate with it and find out its true purpose…where it came from…why it’s here.”

            The President was very hesitant to approve this proposal.

            “Fine, Sands! Conduct whatever research you need!” He ultimately permitted. “But, when all is said and done, I want you to get rid of this thing by any means necessary!”

            Sands greedily smirked. “You have my word, Mr. President.”