"You will not believe what we uncovered."
"You have my complete attention."
"Agent 1 kept an embedded microchip journal."
"Wasn't that against regulations back then as it is now?"
"It certainly was! Here's a rather bizarre entry:
He claimed to be the descendant of pharaohs, but his broken tooth smile and black stubbled face made him appear to be just another Egyptian wino, burnt and spent from too many hard days in a hot desert climate.
His fingers were yellowed from tobacco and he stunk of smoke and sweat. Bugs buzzed around his matted hair.
He kept a rat in his pocket he called King Tut. He would often sit and stroke the rat as he spoke. Tiny red eyes would glare at the listener.
They unnerved me.
I felt that the intelligence of the man somehow resided in the rat.
When there was no other food, the rat would gnaw at the man's fingers, like a beaver, leaving bloody stumps on both of his hands.
The man never showed any signs of pain, but each day I passed by, there was less of a man, more of a rat grinding stories on the street.
"My word! What do you make of it?"
"It's too soon to say, but Agent 1 certainly took a risk recording on planet. We suspect he stumbled upon an alternative species development experiment."
"But whose?"
"That is precisely what we must discover."
YOU ARE READING
Who Dad?!
Science FictionAfter a revealing search for his birth mother, Lee declined to pursue the paternal side of the story. Little did he know how the fate of the planet itself was wrapped up in his own star-crossed origin. Only through the unexpected appearance of an al...
